THE CHIEF TEMPTS ME. 11 



used to be rather gone on it. I haven't pointed a rifle at a deer since I 

 lost my right hand ten years ago and I wouldn't walk across the 

 street to kill a deer. But the birds and especially those ducks call 

 to me. I surely will come if I can possibly arrange it. You let me 

 know what the proper time will be and if it lies within the power of 

 one James, plain American, to sail the blue seas, and land on Britain's 

 shores to bust the ducks, I'll be there. 



"By the way, what guns ought I to bring?" 



"On that score, of course," returned my impending host, "you will 

 have to suit yourself, but I should say as long as you have to shoot 

 with one hand, you ought to bring two automatic shotguns. You 

 will find three or four hundred shots a day from a twelve-gauge with a 

 good heavy load a little trying, I imagine, if you fire them from a 

 double gun. I'll look out for ammunition and furnish a loader for you 

 and all that. All you need to bring is two automatic shotguns, your 

 shooting clothes, and, of course, whatever rifle you prefer to use on 

 the deer." 



This was the beginning of it. The talk occurred in the winter of 

 1910 at my house in Washington, where the Colonel and the Chief 

 were spending an evening with me. 



You might have expected me to forget the conversation with its 

 attendant invitation almost immediately if you are crazy otherwise 

 you may be quite sure that sleeping or waking the thought of that 

 suggested expedition was never quite out of my mind. 



I planned and I hoped and I worked for it as a boy struggles to 

 save his first money to get Fourth-of-July fireworks. I almost came 

 to the point of feeling sure I would die before the time came around, 

 much as I used to feel when I was a little shaver and counted the 

 long months between me and Christmas. But nothing happened 

 except good things. My business went along well, two or three new 

 clients with reasonable retainers in their hands appeared as it were 

 out of a clear sky, and by midsummer of 1911 dalliance with the 

 ducks began to loom large in the fall foreground. 



The Colonel and I used to talk it over together. He is one of the 

 most sympathetic men I have ever known. He wanted to go, too, 

 but it was impossible, so he took out his wishing in helping me get 

 ready. 



