366 



RECREATION. 



never killed a deer, to the last bench under 

 the cap rock, I took the next below, which 

 placed several hundred yards of granite and 

 cactus between us. We had proceeded but 

 a short distance when I jumped and shot 

 a yearling doe, but we failed to find her, 

 though I was sure I saw her fall. As the 

 morning was rapidly passing we gave her 

 up, temporarily, and proceeded. We had 

 not gone a quarter of a mile when Charley's 

 30-30 began to crack so fast and spitefully 

 that I, though a mountain of rocks inter- 

 vened, sought the South side of a huge boul- 

 der and only looked up occasionally, to take 

 advantage of any fleeing buck which might 

 hunt a lower range. 



A bunch of 3 bucks and a doe had gone 

 up the steep mountain, thus giving Charley 

 full play, which he used to advantage as his 

 triumphant yell announced. In going to 

 him, the steep rocky ground, compelled a 

 slight detour, and when I had struggled 

 up almost to the top of the bench a 5 point 

 buck jumped below me and ran around the 

 mountain, passing me at about 100 yards. 

 After waiting until I decided he was not 

 going to stop, I shot, but with no apparent 

 effect. Before I could fire again he had 

 run around the mountain until he presented 

 an almost straight away shot, which I took, 

 striking him in the back of the neck and 

 tumbling him in a heap. The first shot, 

 striking back of the shoulder, would have 

 done the work. After dressing him, I 

 scrambled up to Charley, who had 2 bucks 

 dead, about 100 yards apart. 



Charley had broken his water bottle and 

 as we were thirsty he offered to go after 

 mine, which had been left with our saddles. 

 On the way he jumped and s^ot another 

 buck and found the doe we h?d lost in the 

 morninP r . Charley went to camp, about 2 

 miles distant, and brought a hack to the 

 foot of the mountain; also some horses, and 



all the help in camp. By dragging the deer 

 down to where we could reach them with 

 horses we got all to camp, after dark. 



Two others of the party divided honors 

 in killing a young doe that day. The pre- 

 vious day Ed. had killed a 5 point buck and 

 had brought in one shot but lost the day 

 before. While 3 of our party had killed no 

 deer, they all agreed he had enough, and 

 must get home with the meat as quickly as 

 possible. 



We had killed no bear, so it was agreed 

 that all but I, who volunteered to stay 

 in camp and help prepare the 6 deer 

 for transportation, should go on the mor- 

 row, with Mr. Harmon and his splendid 

 pack of bear dogs, over toward Santiago 

 mountain for a bear. They promptly 

 jumped one, but he led them such a lively 

 chase, over foothills, ravines and canyons, 

 that all but Charley were left behind in the 

 mad run of 6 miles. One by one they re- 

 turned to camp, with the comforting as- 

 surance, that the others would get the bear. 

 Sure enough the dogs stopped him in a 

 cedar brake, and Mr. Harmon and Charley 

 dispatched him with 6 shooters ; the fellows 

 with long range guns all having dropped 

 out. He was a black bear weighing about 

 350 pounds and though they killed him 12 

 miles from camp, it happened to be near a 

 wood road, and we went after him with a 

 hack and took him out that night. 



We broke camp next morning for Alpine, 

 reaching there in time for our train. In 

 4 days' hunting we had killed 9 deer and a 

 bear. Near the limit, think you? I fear 

 so, and while I have hunted from the 

 Texas coast to Wyoming, it was the great- 

 est kill I have ever engaged in. I think we 

 deserve to escape your pen for stopping in 

 such a game district, where 3 of our party 

 l-nd killed nothing; but even they said, 

 "We'll cuit, we have enousrh." 



A PLACE THAT'S UNDER KANSAS. 



H. N. BEECHER. 

 (With apologies to Vermilya and White.) 



There's a place that's under Kansas, 



Far below fair Persia's dell : 

 It was built for would be critics, 



But forgive them, they mean well. 



When a fellow writes a poem 

 On a country that's on top, 

 . Then another, who's not in it, 

 • Dips his ink and makes a blot. 



But this country, broad and spacious, 



Is quite big enough for all : 

 So forgive the would be critic 



For his verses; they're just gall. 



