294 MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



foreman through the body. Six hours after Chico 

 died. His last words were, ' Boys, I die for the 

 Pick.' 



This sad catastrophe changed all our plans. It 

 was clear that our projected hunting-trip was at an 

 end for the present, at all events. All our forces 

 would be required to join the round-up and complete 

 the gather of beef cattle in time for the autumn 

 market. Two of the boys were required to take the 

 foreman's body to Rawlins and give evidence at the 

 inquest. Charley Smith also rode into town and 

 surrendered to the Sheriff. The verdict was 'Justi- 

 fiable homicide,' on the ground that Chico had fired 

 the first shot. But the unanimous unrecorded verdict 

 of the boys was that the wrong man had died. 



I may note in passing that two years later Charley 

 Smith came to his expected and untimely end. ' That's 

 a bad man,' remarked old Bob Snell one night, ' and 

 he'll die with his boots on, you mark my word.' Bob's 

 prophecy was literally fulfilled. Charley, who always 

 carried a ' gun,' and was known to shoot on sight, 

 had threatened a certain law-abiding ranchman whose 

 cattle had been stolen, and who had not hesitated 

 to make known his losses and his suspicions. Fate 

 decreed that the two should meet on a lonely path 

 near Caspar, north of Sand Creek, when the ranch- 

 man had his Winchester rifle across his saddle-bow, 

 and Charley had only his Smith and Wesson's six- 

 shooter. As the latter 's hand was at his hip, the 

 ranchman, in fear of his life, fired from the saddle 

 and broke Charley's leg, and then ' filled him up with 

 lead ' as he lay on the ground. 



It is worth noting here that most of the free- 

 shooting characters of Wyoming that I ever heard 



