There was, however, no trail. How difficult to keep
the lad quiet! I expected of course that Haught would dismount, and
take me to hunt on foot. After a while I gathered he did not hunt deer
except on horseback. He explained that cowboys rounded up cattle in
this forest in the spring and fall, and deer were not frightened at
sound or sight of a horse. Some of the thrill and interest in the
forest subsided for me. I did not like to hunt in a country where
cattle ranged, no matter how wild they were. Then when we came to a
forested ridge bare of grass and smelling of sheep, that robbed the
forest of a little more glamour. Mexican sheep-herders drove their
flocks up this far sometimes. Haught said bear, lion, lynx, and
coyote, sometimes the big gray wolves, followed the sheep. Deer,
however, hated a sheep-run range.
Riding was exceedingly pleasant. The forest was shady, cool, full of
sunlight and beauty. Nothing but fire or the lumbermen could ever rob
it of its beauty, silence, fragrance, and of its temple-like majesty.
So provided we did not meet any cattle or sheep I did not care whether
or not we sighted any game. In fact I would have forgotten we were
hunting had not Romer been along. With him continually seeing things
it was difficult to keep from imagining that we were hunting Indians.
The Apaches had once lived in this country Haught informed us; and it
was a habit of theirs to burn the grass and fallen leaves over every
fall, thus keeping down the underbrush.
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