196 BIG CIAMK OF NORTH AMERICA. 



portion of the intestines. Had the Deer been allowed to 

 lie down and give nature a chance, he might have come out 

 all right. As it was, tlie odds were against him, but he 

 kept pluckily on until his viscera began to drop out, and 

 then the hounds soon had him. 



We had a twelve-mile ride back to the plantation, cross- 

 ing that vile bayou, and leaving the colored men to attend 

 to the game and hounds. But, tired and hungry as we 

 were, we delayed eating until we could get a Juicy cutlet 

 from the fawn, and then we were ready to make the same 

 trip on the morrow. 



As already stated, the range of the Virginia Deer is 

 bounded on the east by the Atlantic Ocean and on the west 

 by the Pacific. I have met him in various portions of the 

 Far West, on the plains, in the mountains, in the great 

 river valleys, and among the foot-hills. 



It may not be amiss to reproduce here portions of an arti- 

 cle which I recently contributed to Sports Afield^ descriptive 

 of one of my hunting-trips in Western Wyoming, on which 

 occasion we killed several Deer, in addition to Antelope 

 and Mountain Sheep. The story runs thus : 



The last round-up of the year was over. The last train- 

 load of cattle bearing the G-square brand was on its way to 

 Chicago. The corral was deserted. Narboe and the boys 

 had gone to Green River, and I was alone. I was blue. We 

 boys who have rustled about mining-claims and cow-camps, 

 living on fat bacon, wrapping our blankets about us at 

 night and lying on the cold ground, with the starry dome 

 for a canopy, with the howl of the coyote for a lullaby, 

 know what it is to be blue. It was Christmas-tide, and as I 

 watched the smoke of the receding engine become fainter 

 and fainter, and finally lose itself in the haze of Red Des- 

 ert, there was a big lump in my throat. I wanted excite- 

 ment; so I turned to the shed, saddled Old Calamity, 

 mounted, and with my 40-90 Bullard across my lap, rode— 

 not eastward, but westward down the saline waters of 

 Bitter Creek. 



