166 BIG GAME FIELDS 



the point, a little nearer, if anything, than they 

 were at first, apparently not having located the 

 point of danger. 



"Nothing to it!" I exclaimed under my breath, 

 knocking down two more before they bid me 

 farewell. These turkeys were a highly unsophis- 

 ticated lot. I picked up three ; one unfortunately 

 got away in the brush, crippled. Hi rode into 

 camp in the afternoon, bringing in a deer, and 

 reported plenty of lion sign, but he believed that 

 the bear had holed up for the winter. 



We were all astir at the crack of dawn and 

 rode out of camp the following day before the 

 sun had put in an appearance. After going not 

 more than a mile or two from camp the dogs 

 picked up a trail and tried to puzzle it out, but it 

 evidently was not very fresh, so Hi called them 

 off. We rode up the north branch of the Bonito, 

 and I think it was the wildest canon I had yet 

 visited. We were riding on one side of the river, 

 while some of the dogs had crossed to the other. 

 "Those dogs are shore acting mighty queer over 

 there," said Hi, reining up and peering across 

 the creek. Just then Jewel, who had the keenest 

 nose of the pack, started the music with her busi- 

 ness-like bark and lost no time in getting over 

 the ridge, closely followed by old Don and Red. 



