The air was sweet; it seemed to freeze as I breathed, and was
a bracing tonic. I was tingling all over, and as hungry as a starved wolf.
I set forth on a hunt for game. Even if the sound of a shot betrayed my
whereabouts I should have to abide by it, for I had to eat. Stepping softly
along, I glanced about me with sharp eyes. Deer trails were thick. The
bottom of this canyon was very wide, and grew wider as I proceeded. Then
the pines once more became large and thrifty. I judged I had come down the
mountain, perhaps a couple of thousand feet below the camp in the gorge. I
flushed many of the big blue grouse, and I saw numerous coyotes, a fox, and
a large brown beast which moved swiftly into a thicket. It was enough to
make my heart rise in my throat. To dream of hunting bears was something
vastly different from meeting one in a lonely canyon.
Just after this I saw a herd of deer. They were a good way off. I began to
slip from tree to tree, and drew closer. Presently I came to a little
hollow with a thick, short patch of underbrush growing on the opposite
side. Something crashed in the thicket. Then two beautiful deer ran out.
One bounded leisurely up the slope; the other, with long ears erect,
stopped to look at me. It was no more than fifty yards away. Trembling with
eagerness, I leveled my rifle.
Pages:
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118