82 HILLS AND LAKES. 



over, down into the gulf, and I heard him strike the 

 bottom, as plain as I heard the crack of my own rifle. 

 " My two shots were answered by old Pete Meigs ? s 

 rifle, and I fired again as a signal, and waited for the 

 old man to come round. Presently I heard his halloa 

 below me, and I went to meet him. He'd hardly be- 

 lieve my story, but we went up the gulf, and found 

 my two painters shot dead enough, and their bones 

 broken by their plunge down the rocks, in the bar- 

 gain. One of them was a she one, and from appear- 

 ance 3 was the mother of a family, Old Pete declared 

 he'd have her whelps. We vent round to where I 

 fourd them eatin' the deer, and the old man, after 

 examinin' the signs, as he termed them, started off to- 

 ward the head of the gulf. We searched the rest of 

 that day, but found nothing. We were satisfied, 

 however, that we war'nt a great ways from the old 

 painter's lair, for we found, scattered about, the bones 

 of deer, and other animals they had devoured. We 

 camped on the mountains that night, and about day- 

 light, old Pete started from his bed of boughs, and 

 cocking his ear for a moment, cried out, * that's them.' 

 I listened, and heard a whinin', moanin' sort of a 

 noise, like a kitten's that's lost its mother. We started 



