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He was so powerful that he just crashed through, but I had to worm my way, and walk over the tops of the bushes, like a tight-rope performer. Of all strong, thick, spiky brush manzanita was the worst. In half an hour I joined Copple at the point under the dome-topped end of the ridge, only to hear the hounds apparently working back up the canyon.
I never make any mistakes when I see game hit." "But I see him coming!" "Where?... By Golly! that's another bear. He's black. Yours is red.... Look sharp. Next time he shows smoke him!" I saw a flash of black across an open space I heard a scattering of gravel. But I had no chance to shoot. Then both of us heard a bear running in thick leaves. "He's gone down the canyon," said Copple.
He had come upon a flock of turkeys, and they were rather difficult to see. All of them were close, and running fast. He shot eight times at eight turkeys and missed them all. Too dark brush trees running like deer. Copple had a dozen excuses. Then he saw a turkey on a log ten feet away. He shot twice. The turkey was a knot, and he had missed even that.
He seemed to say to all the world, "I have chosen me a woman." His manner defied gossip; there was none that Clara heard. This immunity of theirs distilled the more bitterness in her heart because gossip was now at the heels of her and Mr. Copple, following them as chickens do the feed-box. She knew it from such transmissions as, "But doubtless Mr.
I ran ahead another few steps, to be halted by Copple. "Buck!" he called, sharply. "Hurry!" Then, farther on in the open, out in the sunlight, I saw a noble stag, moving, trotting toward us. Keen, hard, fierce in my intensity, I aligned the sights upon his breast and fired. Straight forward and high he bounded, to fall with a heavy thud.
In time he ascended to the place where our grizzly had rolled down, and from there he yelled up to the Haughts, high above him. They answered, and soon disappeared on the far side of the bluff. Copple also disappeared going round under the wall of yellow rock. Perhaps in fifteen minutes I heard them yell, and then a wild clamor of the hounds.
It harked back to pioneer days when men were men. Nielsen said he had lived among Mexican boys who sawed logs for nineteen cents apiece and earned seven dollars a day. Copple said three minutes was good time to saw a four-foot log in two pieces. So much for physical condition!
Men, cities, civilization contaminate waters that are not isolated. Copple told me a man named Mitchell had lived in that lonely place thirty years ago. Copple, as a boy, had worked for him had ridden wild bronchos and roped wild steers in that open, many and many a day. Something of unconscious pathos showed in Copple's eyes as he gazed around, and in his voice.
Last night a bear was feedin' along that end of the thicket. The hounds are millin' round tryin' to straighten out his trail.... It's a dead cinch they'll jump a bear an' we'll see him." "Look everywhere!" I cautioned Copple, and my eyes roved and strained over all that vast slope. Suddenly I espied the flash of something black, far down the thicket, and tried to show it to my comrade.
We all hear the echoing footsteps of the past years! In those days Copple said the ranch was overrun by wild game, and wild horses too. We rode on westward, to come out at length on the rim of a magnificent canyon. It was the widest and deepest and wildest gorge I had come across in this country. So deep that only a faint roar of running water reached our ears!
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