HOW I MISSED HER. 



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tance. Looking round at my companion, I 

 found him coolly taking a chew of tobacco 

 -After an interval of most humiliating silence 

 he remarked: " Must have missed her, 

 Charlie." Need I say more? 



The day passed with no change in the bad 

 luck and once more we camped, hungry, 

 tired, and almost out of grub. Our camp 

 was on the banks of the Gros Ventre, from 

 whose generous bosom Mr. Y. soon gath- 

 ered a splendid supper of trout — averaging 

 3 pounds each. In this employment I was 

 only permitted to catch bait and carry fish, 

 a fit punishment for my blundering haste of 

 the morning. This, also, was my fate of the 

 following morning. In addition my rifle 

 was taken from me. I had been so weak as 

 to question its accuracy as a defense of my 

 miss. My duty was to humbly lead the pack 

 animals a good 2 hundred yards in rear of 

 Mr. Y. 



Presently I saw my companion dismount. 

 The Bullard, whose qualities I had criticised, 

 spoke loudly twice, and 2 fine bulls lay 

 dead before us, mute but eloquent witnesses 

 to the deadly accuracy and power of the 

 weapon and to the fatal skill of him who 

 used it. Mr. Y. handed the rifle back to me 

 with the quiet remark, " You may have it 

 now." 



The game was quickly skinned and hung 

 up, and some fine, fat ribs were put to roast. 

 It was hard for me to wait till they were 

 done, for I was nearly famished. Imagine, 

 therefore, my feelings when my companion 

 informed me that I " might eat fish." How- 

 ever, he relented, and together we enjoyed 

 such a meal as can only be tasted by the 

 famished hunter in the Rocky mountains. 



My pride had been humbled, and I was 

 ready to admit that the experienced hunter 

 has little to learn from the tenderfoot. 



AMATEUR PHOTO BY J. H. HIBBARD. 



COLONEL HUNDLEY, FROM A PAINTING BY RALPH DE CAMP, HELENA, MONT. 

 Colonel Hundley was an old timer in Montana and an enthusiastic hunter. 



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