Two-year-old black-tail buck."
Sure enough he had shot straight this time. The buck lay motionless
under a pine, with one point of his antlers imbedded deep in the
ground. A sleek, gray, graceful deer he was just beginning to get his
winter coat. His color was indeed a bluish gray. Haught hung him up
to a branch, spread his hind legs, and cut him down the middle. The
hunter's dexterity with a knife made me wonder how many deer he had
dressed in his life in the open. We lifted the deer upon the saddle of
Haught's horse and securely tied it there with a lasso; then with the
hunter on foot, leading the way, we rode through the forest up the
main ridge between Beaver and Turkey Canyons. Toward the rim I found
the pines and spruces larger, and the thickets of aspen denser. We
passed the heads of many ravines running down to the canyons on either
side, and these were blazing gold and red in color, and so thick I
could not see a rod into them. About the middle of the afternoon we
reached camp. With venison hanging up to cool we felt somewhat like
real hunters. R.C. had gone off to look for turkeys, which enterprise
had been unsuccessful.
Upon the following day, which was October tenth, we started our bear
hunting. Haught's method appeared to me to lack something. He sent the
hounds down below the rim with George; and taking R.C.
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