96 THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 
In going back we kept up nearer the foot of the hill, and just as 
we got well into the timber, out jumped a big five-point buck and tore 
out through the timber at a terrific rate., It was open timber here, 
and in those days I was a pretty good shot on the run. The lever went 
down and up, and quicker than a flash I sent a bullet whizzing after 
him, which by good luck struck him near the bulge of the ribs, and 
ranging forward passed through the heart. He ran a few yards and up 
ended. Say, believe me, all my trouble disappeared right there, and I 
could smile now as well as Bob. This was pretty good luck. Fish, buck 
meat and wolves to start in with, and several miles yet to go before 
we would be to our permanent camp. 
The next morning we packed up and went out across Elk prairie, 
across Butte Creek, up past Fish Lake, and along the trail towards Lake 
of the Woods for four or five miles, then turned to the left and kept 
around the foot of Mt. Pitt a few miles, and landed high up on a 
creek called Paradise, that empties into Lake of the Woods, where we 
found a beautiful place to camp—lots of grass, lots of water and lots 
of huckleberries, and we hoped lots of game. The balance of the day 
was spent in fixing up camp, making a fir bough bed and also racks 
to jerk meat on. Late in the evening we took a little round and seared 
a bunch of grouse near camp, They flew up and lit in the pines all 
around us. We turned loose and kiled five, shooting the heads off of 
three. Bob did that. We also saw some bear signs, but not real fresh. 
We were in a wild country now, and had big expectations as game here 
had seldom ever been bothered, and we had such good luck to start 
with that we felt confident of getting all the game we wanted. So next 
morning we were up bright and early, and after a fine breakfast of fat 
buck meat we got ready and started out. I took the dogs and went up 
on the east side of the creek, and Bob crossed over and went up the 
ridge on the west side and was supposed to follow it up towards Mt. 
Pitt and keep high up so that in case Trailor started a bear he would 
stand a better chance to hear him. By the way, Bob cautioned me before 
he left to be sure and take my gun, which I thought was not very good 
taste in him, but I smothered it down. I had not got a half mile from 
camp when I discovered where a big bear had come down off the hill 
from the huckleberry patch and went down towards the creek. The 
dogs were a little distance back, so I gave the horn a few quick, short 
toots, which was the signal for them to come and come quick. It was 
hardly a minute until they were there, and I could tell as quick as 
Trailor got his nose on the track that it was fresh. They both went to 
work like they meant business, and were down across the creek and 
going up the hill on the track in just a few minutes. Pretty soon I 
heard them turn loose to yelping, and over the hill they went and out 
of my hearing in just a short time. They were going towards where 
Bob should be, so I stayed where I was, hoping it would make a turn 
and come back my way. But in this I was disappointed, and after 
waiting some little time I made up my mind to go on over across the 
creek and up on top of the ridge and see if I could hear them. Sure 
enough, when I got up there I did hear them, away down near the 
trail that leads to Lake of the Woods from Fish Lake. I could tell 
from the sound that they had overtaken and were baying him. The old 
scamp wouldn’t climb. I lit out down the ridge, and, believe me, there 
was no grass grew under my feet, ‘either. I was satisfied that Bob 
would be following up on the other side, and if the bear made a break, 
which he was nearly sure to do, one or the other of us stood a show 
to head him off. I kept on going and had got up to within probably 
two hundred yards, when, sure enough, away he went down the hill 
towards Black Butte. He made quite a run this time before the dogs 
