THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 259 
impression made by the feet of the deer and the blood stains on the 
grass and ground when Crandall and I could see nothing. 
The four of us followed the deer until along in the middle of the 
afternoon Crandall and I became tired plowing through the snow and 
the mud, for in the middle of the day it would thaw considerably. Fur- 
thermore, the deer was not bleeding sufficiently to indicate that it was 
very badly wounded. I told the Young boys if they would follow the 
deer and bring it into camp I would recompense them. They were 
confident that they would find it in the wooded brakes of the Grande 
Ronde River and did not want to give up the chase. Crandall and I 
returned to camp. 
As we neared camp, we saw the doctor coming into camp with 
something thrown over his shoulder. I remarked to Crandall that I 
guessed the doctor had bagged a coyote. We arrived at camp just 
before the doctor got there. ‘‘Well,’’ I said, ‘‘I see you killed a coyote 
if you couldn’t get a deer.’’ ‘‘Do you call that a coyote?’’ he said, 
throwing a young cougar from his shoulder to the ground. The doctor 
was in exultation at his conquest, and his laughter echoed and re- 
echoed throughout the mountains. He had killed several deer and bear 
and only the night before had said that he would like to have a cougar 
skin to add to his collection. He said that after hunting deer until a 
little after noon, he became tired and sat down behind a stump to rest, 
and when he raised up, three cougar—an old mother cougar and three 
kittens—jumped out from behind another stump and beat it for the 
thick timber. He did not get a chance at the old cougar but took a 
shot at one of her kittens as it circled around, and landed. It was a 
good shot and the doctor could well feel proud of his trophy. Of course 
the rest of us tried to convince the doctor that his hitting the young 
cougar was a mere accident, but we could not convince him. He stepped 
the distance between the stump he was sitting against and the one the 
cougars were behind and it was twenty-one steps. I told him they 
wanted to see what a real, live disciple of materia medica tasted like. 
J don’t know whether it was caused by exultation at his capture or the 
reaction of fear, but the doctor did not sleep very much that night or 
let any of the rest of us sleep. He would lie down awhile and then get 
up and sit by the stove and smoke. How he did rub it into Crandall and 
me about shooting twelve times at a deer standing and he only took one 
shot at a young cougar on the run. 
That evening while we were eating supper, we heard several shots 
in succession towards the direction the Young boys were following the 
tracks of the wounded deer. I remarked that I guessed the Young boys 
had jumped our deer. The next day I saw one of them and he said that 
while they had not jumped the wounded deer they did jump another 
deer and killed it. . 
The next morning after partaking of a good breakfast of bacon, eggs 
and black coffee, we started out for another day’s hunt, Crandall and I 
going in one direction and Hanna and the doctor going in another. 
While Crandall and I covered a good deal of ground for heavy weights 
we did not see any fresh sign and we returned to camp in the middle 
of the afternoon all worn out from trailing through the snow. We 
had not much more than reached camp when we heard a bombardment 
off to the south and east which sounded like an engagement between 
the Germans and the Allies. We concluded from the number and rapid- 
ity of the shots that the boys had jumped some deer, as it was in the 
direction they had started in the morning. Hanna and Biggers got to 
camp just about dark and reported having had an eventful day. When 
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