182 MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



Ute Indian reservation and close to a good country 

 for deer. I well remember meeting some Indians 

 while hunting with Frank en route. Here was Feni- 

 more Cooper's noble red man in the flesh. Alas for 

 our ideals ! I was completely disillusioned. The 

 particular real article that I first saw was clothed in 

 buckskin and moccasins certainly, but he was also 

 small, somewhat mean-looking, and not too clean. 

 He wanted whisky, which he did not get, and was 

 keen on a horse trade. 



We camped near the reservation for some days, 

 and killed two or three good black-tail bucks. On 

 one or two occasions an Indian accompanied us. 

 Their eyesight is marvellous. I never knew an 

 Indian fail to pick up deer before we did. But their 

 shooting is indifferent. That, at least, was my ex- 

 perience of them. One day we met an Indian who 

 had just killed three deer, regardless of age or sex. 

 He had not even butchered them. This was a squaw's 

 work. The Indian buck rode back to camp, and 

 promptly despatched his squaw to find and bring in 

 the meat that he had killed. 



Every night after supper the Indians came string- 

 ing into our camp, and sat silently round our fire, 

 emotionless, quiet, almost dignified. But they were 

 not impressive. I was interested, but not attracted. 

 One of these Indians, somewhat more intelligent and 

 of better appearance than his fellows, helped us on 

 one occasion to put out a fire in the grass round our 

 camp, and we in return asked him to supper. He sat 

 on a log and consumed alarming quantities of fried 

 venison, tinned beans, hot rolls, and molasses, till he 

 could eat no more. Probably he thought it polite to 

 accept all that was offered, and we continued to ply 



