THE REGENERATION OF EAGLE BAR. 



105 



"Boys, although this foolishness of hunt- 

 in' chipmunks ain't none in our line, it is 

 howsomever our religious duty to bag 

 everything that shows up to-morrow, from 

 a sand-peet to a grizzly or an ostrich. It's 

 the principle we've got to stand up for. 

 We've got to show rhem honeysuckles that 

 seems to be springin' up all over that 

 they's one place into Uncle Sam's bean 

 patch where they don't bow down to no 

 knock-kneed, porridge-eatin', .30-caliber 

 dudes what sleeps onto air cushions an' 

 washes 3 times a day." 



"That's whereas," assented the Coyote. 



"Remember, boys, it's the principle of 

 the thing that you're shootin' for to-day," 

 said Nosey, as he stood in the door of the 

 Glory to bid the hunters good-by. 

 "There'll be 3 rounds of nectar waitin' for 

 the side that brings in the most game." 



And so, armed with 6-shooters, and with 

 belts stuffed with cartridges, the party 

 started forth to sustain a principle, and 

 wipe off the earth every unlucky bird or 

 quadruped that might have the temerity 

 to show itself. They were to scatter and 

 each hunt alone, as far as possible, thereby 

 increasing their chances of securing game. 

 For awhile all went well, each hunter be- 

 ing occupied with the thought of how the 

 dude editor would turn pale with anger 

 when he read of the big score they would 

 make, an account of which the stage was 

 expected to take out on the morning fol- 

 lowing. 



After awhile, however, the hunt grew 

 a trifle tiresome. The yellow sand 

 gleamed in the sunshine, and occasionally 

 from a tuft of dry grass came the shrill 

 chirp of a locust; but a peculiar sense of 

 stillness and desolation seemed to pervade 

 earth and air. Game did not make its ap- 

 pearance in the flocks and herds which 

 they had anticipated; for though the 

 miners of Eagle Bar knew little con- 

 cerning the fauna of the surrounding coun- 

 try, they had always confidently believed 

 that birds and beasts abounded there. 

 They were not aware that because of the 

 work of certain meat hunters and skin 

 hunters that region was destitute of game, 

 though formerly it had been well supplied. 



Now and then, when one of the hunters 

 neared a rocky spot, he would see a small, 

 sorry-looking animal, apparently a cross 

 between an Eastern chipmunk and a com- 

 mon rat, scurry into a crevice in the rocks 

 as though ashamed of his hermit-like ex- 

 istence. Sometimes even a lonely little 

 rock rabbit might be descried, dozing at 

 the door of his den; but there seemed an 

 utter absence of birds. About a mile from 

 the camp was a small stream — at least it 

 contained water at certain periods of the 

 year — and there stretched away to the 

 Southward an expanse of chaparral. 

 Thither at some time during the day most 



of the hunters directed their steps; for 

 there it seemed they must find game. But 

 nothing in the line of fur or feather re- 

 warded their efforts; and as they had 

 plenty of time, they began to note the 

 loneliness of their surroundings. 



Sometimes a man would fire a shot or 2 

 in the hope of starting a bird or a rabbit, 

 but he seldom realized his desire. The 

 lack of the song and chatter of birds, now 

 that they were listening for such music, 

 became painfully apparent, and seemed 

 positively oppressive. The hunters thought 

 as they wandered about, of their boyhood 

 homes — for none of them were indigenous 

 to their present locality — of the coming of 

 the birds in the spring as the winter 

 snows gradually disappeared from the hill- 

 sides; of their joyous songs during the 

 long and pleasant summer; and of their 

 noisy gatherings in the autumn to take 

 their migratory flight. Again they saw 

 the saucy robin in the old cherry tree: the 

 blackbirds flocking by the river's bank; 

 they heard the woodpecker drumming on 

 the hollow stub, or the quail whistling in 

 the corn. Again, in memory, these rough 

 men roamed the woods at home and 

 watched the bright-eyed squirrel as he 

 scampered along the zigzag rail fence be- 

 yond the orchard and heard the chirp and 

 chatter of birds as they flitted from tree to 

 tree. 



Here was desolation indeed, and now 

 the sight of even a crow or a hawk would 

 have been hailed with delight. 



The sharp, condemnatory articles con- 

 cerning the slaughter of birds, which they 

 had read in Recreation with so much dis- 

 gust and scorn, looked different to them 

 and the desolate condition of a land 

 barren of the feathered songsters was 

 brought home to them all with such crush- 

 ing force that it is doubtful if any of them 

 would have shot a bluejay had the oppor- 

 tunity offered. 



"Baldy," said Sam, on meeting that 

 modern Nimrod about the middle of the 

 afternoon, "this ain't no fun and I'm go- 

 ing home. This has been the lonesomest 

 day I ever put in, and I'll say right here 

 that my notions in regards to that 'ere 

 editor chap has some changed lately. I'd 

 like to hear the song of a bird once more." 



The hunt in a gameless region had af- 

 fected all the men in about the same way. 

 but in view of their sudden change of base 

 they did not care to say much about it. 

 though they thought a great deal. 



The sun had nearly completed its jour- 

 ney through the heavens, and loomed 

 large and red on the Western horizon, 

 when the returning hunters, singly or in 

 squads, began to arrive at the Glory, where 

 they were scheduled to meet. They bore 

 no game and said nothing concerning the 

 day's sport; and Nosey, discerning that 



