THE PECCARY. 397 



started down the canon. Taking my field-glass, I could see 

 something coming down the trail. I told my guide to get 

 on his horse, but he would not. Pretty soon v e could hear 

 the noise of their hoofs as they came down the mountain. 

 I saw there was only a small bunch of them, so I tied my 

 horse and got down behind a large rock near the trail. 

 Just then my guide fired and killed one. Then he fired 

 again, and down went another. Then I fired, but only 

 wounded one, and it began to squeal, when the rest of them 

 caught sight of my "guide and went after him. Just then 

 the Long Tom. spoke again, and another one rolled over, 

 ftbw there were but three left, and they were not more than 

 twenty feet from me. I got two of them with my Marlin. 

 My guide had thrown down the Long Tom and drawn his 

 Colt's revolver, when the only one left charged right at 

 him, and he killed it not more than two feet from the 

 muzzle of his revolver; making seven we had killed in that 

 many seconds. 



We cut the musk or gland from two of the smallest, tied 

 them behind our saddles, and started down the canon, well 

 pleased with our day's hunt. We found our Indian at 

 home, and when we told him what we had done he seemed 

 surprised, as he expected us both to be eaten. We gave 

 him both the Peccaries, except the hams of one, and told 

 him to go and get the rest that night. We had fried Pec- 

 cary, fried fish, and fried quail for supper. 



All that evening my guide begged me to go again next 

 day. When I told him there was lots of danger, he only 

 laughed, and said he would go alone if I would not go with 

 him. Next morning, I again tried to persuade him out of 

 the notion; but nothing would satisfy him, and at sunrise 

 he was off. It was the last I ever saw of poor Prank Yanso. 



I put in the day fishing, and that night I watched and 

 waited all night for him, but no Frank came; so, early the 

 next morning I was in the saddle, riding up the river on 

 a swinging lope. It did not take me long to get to the 

 house of the Indian who had showed us the hunting- 

 ground two days before, and speaking in Spanish, I asked 



