38 THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 



the horses and went the next morning and went to the bear first and 

 after getting him loaded we went up to near the cougar and hitched 

 the horses and walked up to where he lay. Fred set his gun down ami 

 leaned on the muzzle and stood looking at him for some time without 

 saying a word. "Well, what do you think of him, Fred?" "Good Lord 

 Almighty, Griffin, ain't he a monster?" Fred said this in a voice that 

 there was no mistaking he meant every word of it, and there is no 

 harm in stating in print just as he said it, for his old friends knew him 

 well and his way of expressing himself, would be disappointed with this 

 story, which is true, if this expression were changed. 



# •* * 



I have some of the teeth and claws of this cougar yet. I brought 

 the hide to Ashland and also one of the feet and if anyone has ajiy 

 doubt of his size ask Ed Farlow or some other old timer there who saw 

 him. This was the largest cougar I ever killed and no doubt had killed 

 hundreds of deer as he ranged above the Soda Springs at the mouth of 

 Dead Indian creek and was an old residenter when the deer trails were 

 as thick as sheep trails. Fred and I were at camp two weeks and suc- 

 ceeded in getting eleven deer and the bear. 



Poor Fred! He used to like to hunt better than anybody and 

 often told me when we were out together that he was going to hunt as 

 long as he could see the sights and then get him a shotgun, but when 

 he got older he thought different of it and quit it entirely and took to 

 fishing in Eogue Eiver, which he followed up until at last it was the 

 cause of his death; having gone over to the river above Bybee's Bridge 

 he waded out on the cement and suddenly stepped off into deep water 

 and was drowned. Thus ended the life of one of Eogue Eiver Valley's 

 highly honored and loved pioneers. 



MERRY CHRISTMAS, BOYS 



Pilot Epck, Oregon, January 7, 1918. 

 The Oregon Sportsman, 



Portland, Oregon. 

 Gentlemen: 



I enclose you a little reading that I sent to all "the boys" who 

 hunted with me last year. I send it to you for publication. 



Yours very truly, M. D. OEANGE. 



"I have often hunted with you and I think of you quite often. I 

 am asking you to forgive me for all the harm I have done this year to 

 you and everybody else. I don't remember what it is, and being a 

 hunter I know you don't. 



"One thing sure, I have been wrong many times, so have you. I 

 have had hard luck this year, so have you. But when I sit of evenings 

 and think of the one unpardonable sin that I hold against you of you 

 sending me through that thicket and I missed that chance and you got 

 the shot, I was just plain mad, but that night at camp I forgave you 

 as we always do. I want to always live just like that to always for- 

 give all your faults and mine too. 



' ' They say that grouchy people always have the indigestion. Have 

 you got it? I haven't. 



"I never knew of a man that could buck all the hardships that a 

 day's hunt has laid out for him and of course sometimes cuss your luck 

 and of course sometimes blame somebody else, and that evening not 



