MY FIRST TRIP TO THE ROCKIES 165 



breathless with the run uphill, and aggrieved at the 

 mischance that had lost me a ' sitting ' shot. I did 

 not expect to get him. But I pulled myself together, 

 took a quick sight from the shoulder all I had time 

 for at the broad yellow side, pressed the trigger just 

 as the graceful body turned, and the next moment the 

 elk had vanished over the ridge. 



Had the bullet sped true ? That was the question. 

 The rifle was unsteady, I knew, when, as a panting, 

 perspiring biped, I had drawn the bead. But some- 

 how I fancied there was hair on the foresight at the 

 exact psychological fraction of an instant when the 

 bullet left the muzzle of the rifle. 



Here, mark you, was the opportunity for fate to 

 give me back, at the last moment, the success so 

 nearly snatched from my grasp. For I wanted 

 that head, and wanted it very badly. I had come 

 some thousands of miles to get it, and others like 

 it. Therefore, to lose it by mishandling my rifle at 

 an inopportune moment would be a most vexatious 

 disappointment. 



Frank joined me with the horses, and I saw 

 a twinkle of amusement and humour in his eye ; 

 but ' You blew a big hole in the ground back there ' 

 was all he said. My immediate reply is not worth 

 recording, but I went on to suggest that the elk was 

 probably dead by this time, and that we might as well 

 go and get his head. It took us a quarter of an hour 

 or so to cross the steep valley to the point of the ridge 

 where the elk had vanished. He had crossed it, as 

 Frank somewhat unnecessarily, as I thought, pointed 

 out, ' in about three jumps. 5 



A few minutes after the sun was shining brighter, 

 all Nature seemed fairer ; the plainly humorous 



