MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



But no halt was made. Jack and Bob were obviously 

 in a great hurry to move on, and afterwards explained 

 that they feared my shots would be heard by the 

 Indians, who might take a notion to follow us. No 

 such idea had entered my inexperienced head. That 

 bear had to be killed ; and our party disappeared in 

 the distance down the valley as I followed the 

 wounded silver-tip a well-grown two-year-old into 

 the timber, there found and killed him, took his skin 

 and claws, and hustled on the tracks of our party, 

 whom I did not catch up until dark. 



Four days' steady travelling took us out of the 

 Bighorn Range ; but Jack was uneasy in his mind 

 and bubbling with profanity until we were once again 

 south of the desert and the Rattlesnake Range. What 

 he chiefly feared was the theft of our horses. Six 

 well-armed men would only be attacked by Indians 

 if caught napping and taken by surprise. But to steal 

 all our horses would have been an irresistible tempta- 

 tion and an easy feat for a redskin marauding band, 

 and to compel a westerner to travel home 200 miles 

 on foot was almost as bad as taking his scalp or 

 his life. 



Fortunately, nothing of the kind occurred. We 

 soon after reached our ranch with a goodly load of 

 twenty-two bearskins and fourteen big-horn heads, the 

 largest of which latter trophies measured 39 inches 

 along the curve of the horn and 18 inches round the 

 base, as well as a couple of buffalo-heads and one or 

 two of good black-tail deer. For the last week of our 

 travel south the stores had run short, and we had 

 learnt by practical experience how easy it is to do 

 without unattainable luxuries. Tea, oatmeal bread, 

 and meat straight then made up our bill of fare. 



