u8 



RECREATION, 



buck lumbered over the hill and out oi 

 sight forever. 



Our tent was up and everything in good 

 order before night. We had agreed that 

 the man who killed the first deer should be 

 chief of the camp, consequently every 

 man was off early for the hunt, tak- 

 ing different directions. I crossed a stream 

 and went West across a chopping into a 

 large tract of hard wood. There was no 

 snow, but I could see plenty of fresh signs. 

 At a little after 8 o'clock I jumped a 

 spike horn buck, which disappeared over a 

 knoll after the first jump. The sound of 

 his running ceased, and I knew he had 

 stopped, as I could have seen him if he 

 had run far, owing to higher ground that 

 encircled us. I waited at least 5 minutes 

 before I heard him. He had taken his back 

 track and walked right back to the top of 

 the knoll to see what had become of me. 

 That time I pulled the right barrel and 

 sent a 45 bullet into his breast, through 

 his heart, and out at the fourth rib.* He 

 ducked his head, dropped his tail and ran, 

 crazy like, but fast, about 20 rods, then 

 went down. Had I not been sure of him 

 I could have stopped him with the buck- 

 shot. This proved the only deer shot that 

 day, so my right to be chief of camp was 

 not disputed. 



The next day Fisher shot a big buck and 

 a doe. After hanging them up he started 

 down a logging road for camp, with his 

 buck head on his back. Mason and I, who 

 had come to him after his shooting, also 

 started for camp, but through the woods 

 parallel with the road. We had not gone 

 y 2 mile before Mason jumped a whopping 

 big buck, but on account of the underbrush 

 he could not get a shot. The buck ran 

 straight to Fischer, who got up on a log 

 when he heard him coming and put a bullet 

 through his neck, killing him instantly. 

 Either of these bucks would weigh nearly, 

 if not quite, 200 pounds. Strange as it 

 may seem, Fisher got no more deer after 

 that day. 



Owing to the fact that we had no snow, 

 something unusual . for November in the 

 Upper Peninsula, our party of 6 got only 9 

 deer, all bucks but one ; but the fine weath- 

 er made camping so pleasant that we all 

 agreed it fully made up for the absence of 

 snow. 



One of our party was no other than 

 Percy Selous, who often contributed to 

 Recreation. He was a hunter and trav- 

 eler of wide experience, an accom- 

 plished artist* naturalist, taxidermist, mas- 

 ter of many languages, and, better still, a 

 good fellow. We had a great joke on him 

 one day. He was sitting on a chest in front 

 of the tent, after a fruitless chase, and had 

 been saying he was afraid he would not 

 get a chance at a deer. Just then a mighty 

 buck jumped with a splash into the river 



from the thick cover on the opposite side 

 and ran down stream, not 30 feet from Se- 

 lous. His gun was in the tent. He called 

 * to Hillman and Mason, who were in the 

 tent, to bring a gun quick. They did so, 

 and fired several shots at the buck as he 

 plunged about in the water, making for cov- 

 er again. How we did roast Selous, only 

 to hear him mutter, "Deuced hard luck! 

 Beastly luck !" 



E. A. Kemp, Greenville, Mich. 



A BUFFALO HUNT. 

 In August, 1883, I was working for a 

 cattle outfit, which employed about 40 

 men. We had just come off the spring 

 roundup, where we had been for many 

 weeks working about 22 hours a day and 

 we had only recently caught up in our 

 > communication with the Land of Nod. 

 It was not many days until the once tired 

 and worn out cowboy was thirsting for 

 some excitement, and after a few fights 

 between some of the boys over cards, sev- 

 eral shooting scraps, in which, fortunate- 

 ly, none were killed, I was informed by the 

 horse wrangler that while riding in a cer- 

 tain flat he had seen a large buffalo, bull. 

 There was little, need of his urging me 

 to accompany him on a buffalo hunt on 

 foot, for our 300 cow ponies were out on 

 the range recuperating, preparatory to the 

 calf and beef roundup, which was to begin 

 in a few days. Although unusual to hunt 

 buffalo on foot, we were of that age when 

 "any old way" went, and being expert pis- 

 tol shots, we had no fear. Each of us ob- 

 tained "Evans rifles and with- Colt's 45 

 caliber revolvers, we went out. The buf- 

 falo was lying down in an uncultivated 

 meadow. To his left, extending in a semi- 

 circle was a dry creek, whose banks were 

 25 feet high. Up this bank my companion 

 and I crawled and crept along some dis- 

 tance toward his lordship, until we had- 

 a good opportunity to open fire. He was 

 then 150 yards away. We agreed to fire at 

 the same time. Had we used our pistols we 

 might have succeeded, but we chose the 

 rifles, about which we knew little. After 

 aiming steadily at his heart, we both shot 

 simultaneously. His lordship arose, ma- 

 jestically, looked about, shook his shaggy 

 head, and as the smoke directed his at- 

 tention to his pursuers, he came toward us. 

 Keeping our eyes on this mighty beast, 

 we at once attempted to manipulate the 

 levers of our guns. Mine, curious to 

 say, stuck; try as I might, I could not 

 get another cartridge in and although I 

 would not admit it, I seemed to be pos- 

 sessed of that peculiar feeling known to 

 persons realizing they are in a tight place. 

 The buffalo ran 150 yards to where we 

 were standing. My companion went to the 

 right, I to the left, each hoping the bvfffalo 



