Hunting the Mule-Deer in Colorado. 



269 



pick up those traps of yourn and come along with me, an' don't you 

 ever do that again in this vie-cinity. You'd 'a' been in a nice fix 

 here before morning." 



I was on my mettle in those days, and inclined to be proud of my 

 powers of endurance. I had quite enjoyed the prospect of practicing 

 this kind of bed-warming, which I had heard the old fellows tell us 

 of as something to make the pilgrim wonder, and I hardly relished 

 the half-apparent amusement of this big mountaineer, who wasn't in 

 the least impressed by my show of resignation and resources. One 

 look at the black sky, that seemed to be rapidly settling earthward, 

 decided me, however, and with a grateful acknowledgment and a 

 half sense of relief, I followed my entertainer to his mountain home. 

 Ah, those steaks, cut from the rump of that three-hundred-pound 

 buck hanging in the back room ! There were three inches of fat on 



the edges of them, and my handsome hostess blushed before the fire, 

 as she turned them to a beautiful brown, while the little dog looked 

 on with an air of quiet approval and anticipation. 



" That's my huntin' dog," said Big Osborne, laughing at my stare 

 of surprise, not to say incredulity. " Yes, sir ; and that's the kind of 



