Trail and Camp-Fire 



ran ahead with my rifle at the ready, crouch- 

 ing down as I came to the sky-line. Usually 

 on such occasions I find that the antelope have 

 gone on, and merely catch a glimpse of them 

 half a mile distant, but on this occasion every- 

 thing went right. The band had just reached 

 the ridge crest about 220 yards from me across 

 the head of the valley, and had halted for a 

 moment to look around. They were starting 

 as I raised my rifle, but the trajectory is very 

 flat with these small-bore smokeless-powder 

 weapons, and taking a coarse front sight I fired 

 at a young buck which was broadside to me. 

 There was no smoke, and as the band raced 

 away I saw him sink backward, the ball having 

 broken his hips. 



We packed him bodily behind Sylvane on 

 the buckskin and continued our ride, as there 

 was no fresh meat in camp, and we wished to 

 bring in a couple of bucks if possible. For 

 two or three hours we saw nothing. The un- 

 shod feet of the horses made hardly any noise 

 on the stretches of sun-cured grass, but now 

 and then we passed through patches of thin 

 weeds, their dry stalks rattling curiously, mak- 

 ing a sound like that of a rattlesnake. At last, 



coming over a gentle rise of ground, we spied 



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