44 WILD ii.()\vi:rs ok Colorado. 



|)cr[)ciKliciilar wall al)()\c. lie seemed to uiKlerstaiid that there 

 was no escape ; to go higher was im[)ossil)le, to stay where he 

 was or to descend was certain death, for alread}' the men were 

 within shooting distance. lie hesitated hut a moment, then 

 looking up as though to ask forgiveness for past sins and the one 

 about to be committed, he gave a fearful leap into the chasm, 

 falling on his head and dying instantly. It was e\'idently a 

 suicide. An old fellow near me remarked: "A downright 

 shame to cheat us all out of a fine shot and a good dinner," 

 for venison, c-'MI in the mountains, is considered a luxury this 

 early in the fall. 



I went near to look at the deer. He had a splendid set of 

 antlers. I asked the men if they would give his head to me. 

 "Why, yes, mum; it belongs to you as much as to any on us: w^e 

 all see him first." Sending for Dick, who had cjuite a reputation 

 as a taxidermist, we secured the head (which now adorns my 

 studio), and in triumph walked into camp. "Where did you get 

 it ?" "Are there any more ?" " Did you shoot it ?" were a few 

 of the questions asked me. I told them if they would promise to 

 give me the credit t)f securing "the first antlers of the hunt," I 

 would tell them the truth. They promised, and the story was 

 soon told, the result of which was that each man vowed he would 

 get up by sunrise every morning, go into the canyon, and watch 

 for deer. 



The castclleia grows here in great abundance, and is, perhaps, 

 better remembered than any of the wild flowers. Children pick 



