BIG GAME IN VIRGINIA. 



G. G. BARKMAN. 



On the morning of November 10, last 

 fall, Jacob Mullendore, a veteran hunter of 

 60, and I boarded the train at Rohrersville, 

 Md., for Staunton, Va., where we arrived 

 after a ride of 6 hours. We were met by 

 Major Crosby, who at once loaded our bag- 

 gage into his wagon. 



" Get in boys," he called, with a merry 

 shout, " we are off for the happy home of 

 James Crosby, which lies at the foot of the 

 great Shenandoah mountains." 



We arrived after a 3 hours' drive, and 

 were met at the gate by the Major's father 

 and family. After the usual greetings, 

 given with open arms, we were ushered into 

 the house, where we enjoyed the comforts 

 of a great log fire until supper time. Then 

 we heard a bell ringing in the kitchen. 



" Come on boys," our host said, " the 

 sheep are in the kitchen, and we'll have to 

 drive 'em out." We did not find sheep, but 

 did see a table loaded with a meal fit for a 

 king. 



After doing justice to the supper, we re- 

 paired to the fire again, got out our pipes, 

 and laid plans for the future. 



As corn was not all shucked, we jumped 

 in, the next morning, and helped to finish 

 it, so nothing should interfere with our 

 plans for a good hunt. 



On Friday morning we started out. The 

 forenoon was spent without success, but we 

 had just finished lunch, when the Major 

 jumped up and grasped his rifle. 



" Look over there," he cried; " there go 

 3 deer on the opposite ridge! " Sure 

 enough; 2 bucks, and a doe were bounding 

 gracefully along. 



The Major and I commenced throwing 

 lead from our rifles, while Jake was jump- 

 ing around trying to see the game. Failing 

 in this, he became confused. " I can't un- 

 derstand it," he yelled; "this is the first 

 time I ever missed seeing deer when any 

 one else could see 'em." 



The deer ran down into a hollow, among 

 the spruce, where we lost sight of them. 

 On going down, we found we had wounded 

 one badly; for there were drops of blood 

 on the leaves. 



The Major and I took up the trail, while 

 Jake went around the point to head off the 

 wounded animal. We had not gone far 

 when we found where it had lain down; but 

 he had winded us, and was off again. On 

 we followed for about V2 mile, to a rocky 

 ridge. Looking down I saw the deer lying 

 under the cliff. Major fired, and the buck 

 made a long spring down the mountain. 

 Then I sent a bullet from my 38-56, strik- 

 ing it in the back, killing it instantly. 



A loud call was sent up for Jake. The 

 deer was tied to ia pole, and a start made for 

 home, for it was getting late and we were 3 

 miles away. When we arrived at the house, 

 it was dark, but grandmother Crosby and 

 " Miss Lizzie," Jim's wife, were on the 

 lookout. Seeing us coming with the buck, 

 they ran to meet us. 



" Just see," " grannie " cried, " they've 

 got a deer! Hang it up, quick; for the 

 buckwheat cakes are ready and will get 

 cold." 



Hearing this, we were not long in string- 

 ing up the deer, when a rush was made for 

 the kitchen. The next thing to do was to 

 lay plans for a bear hunt, which was ar- 

 ranged for the following Tuesday. 



We made an early start on horseback, for 

 the bear country. Arriving there, we 

 hitched our horses and hunted on foot. 

 The plan was for Jim and Jake to hunt near 

 the top of the mountain, while Major and 

 I hunted lower down. 



In a short time we heard several rifle- 

 shots near the top of the mountain; then 

 came a plaintive cry. We could not. tell 

 what it was at. so great a distance. At first 

 we thought one of our friends was badly 

 hurt and was calling for help. Running in 

 that direction a short distance, we stopped 

 to listen. The Major then declared the cry 

 came from a bear. 



' Yes," I exclaimed, catching sight of an 

 object moving in the bushes, " there it is up 

 near the top of the hill." We could catch 

 a glimpse of it occasionally, but could not 

 see Jim or Jake. The Major concluded 

 they had wounded another bear and had 

 crossed the mountain. The best thing for 

 us to do was to make a circuit around the 

 top of the hill to get a shot. 



When we were about 50 yards from the 

 top, Jim's " stem-winder " was turned loose 

 across the gulch, and the cry of the bear 

 ceased. Just then Jim spied us, and beck- 

 oned to come quickly. We were soon at 

 his side. Looking over the cliff, I saw an 

 old bear running from her dead cub. Major 

 shot, but missed. I then jumped on a rock, 

 and as she was passing through a clear spot, 

 I shot her in the back, disabling her. 



We all made a rush, and just then Jake, 

 who was about 300 yards down the moun- 

 tain, commenced to pump his rifle at the 

 bear. It was too late then, for one of us 

 put a bullet behind the shoulder, killing 

 her. Some one said Jake kept firing in 

 our direction 5 minutes after the bear was 

 dead. 



Now came the hardest part of it all. To 

 get the bear on top of the mountain where 



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