180 THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 
bear stories to tell, of how bruin trespassed upon his orchard and tried 
to make him adopt them. More and more the boys from Michigan 
began to realize that they were in the vicinity of big game. So, prom- 
ising Ben that they would return and exterminate the nefarious 
creatures from his ranch, they plodded on until dark overtook them, 
and simultaneously with its coming on they came upon an old 
hut that had been used for a postoffice at Chenoweth, which was full 
of old papers, and they concluded to camp for the night, as the 
papers would serve as a good bed for them, but the boys from Michi- 
gan, not used to such fare and too much engrossed by the thought of 
the bear they were to kill, slept but little, lying and rolling about, 
listening to the stentorious breathing of the two Oregon boys, to whom 
the soft side of a board was as good as an Ostermoor mattress. As 
the bright rays of the sun put the shadows to flight, you could see 
four young men busy over a campfire and the smell of frying bacon 
and the aroma of coffee floated on the air. After they had partaken 
of their morning meal and packed up their belongings, they again 
started on their journey for Old Baldy and the big bears. 
After journeying about one and a half miles, they came to a 
ranch owned by a man named Willard, whom they tried to induce 
to sell them potatoes and butter, but not being able to get any there, 
they proceeded on to Tyrrell’s ranch, which lays at the foot of Old 
Baldy. They tied up the dogs and separated into two groups. Bill 
Currans and A. Archer going one way and Cecil Holman and H. S. 
Currans going in the opposite. After tramping until the sun had 
started well down the western slope and seeing no signs of deer or 
bear, and the demands of the inner self demonstrating that the fresh 
air and mountain scenery was not sufficient for all needs, they turned 
back to enjoy their bacon and coffee, as well as a good sleep, to start 
out in the early morning to hunt again for the game. After arriving 
at their camp and procuring wood and water and starting a roaring 
fire, they proceeded to start supper, when, to their disappointment, 
they found they were shy of eatables, as they had lost their pack 
containing their all. After trying to locate their pack, they were 
forced to the necessity of borrowing some tea and salt of Mr. Myers 
and, having killed some birds, contented themselves with a repast 
that was in vogue at the time of Lewis and Clark. They nevertheless 
had detective instincts enough to learn who the party was that had 
made away with their pack, but after they had concluded their even- 
ing meal they still found there was a longing they could not satisfy, 
as their greatest standby was also gone with their pack—they had 
no tobacco. They dug deep into their pockets trying to satisfy their 
longing, but all they could do was to draw them out empty and pacify 
their desires by heaping curses upon the head of the miscreant. Sun- 
day morning loomed up bright as an October day can shine, but the 
boys from Michigan could not be induced to go hunting, so after Mr. 
Tyrell, who had arrived home and finding out how the boys were 
fixed, volunteered to go after their lost property, Cecil Holman and 
Bill Currans started out to see what could be done or found in the 
game line on Sunday. Leaving the dogs at the camp with the boys, 
they started up Little White Salmon River. After following it for 
about one and one-half miles, they crossed over and took to the 
hills, separating after a half mile, Cecil continuing on toward the top 
and Bill going around the side, but it seems that the game knew 
they were there and hid out from them, so after wandering around 
and only getting a few birds, they arrived at camp about 5 o’clock 
and found that Tyrell had arrived with their pack. So, fixing the 
birds for cooking, they prepared themselves for the feast, and how 
