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Updated: May 23, 2025
I accordingly devoted myself one afternoon to shooting "sage-hens"; this is a species of grouse about the size of a domestic fowl, and, when young, there is nothing better. The old birds are not only tough, but they taste too strongly of sage, from subsisting upon the buds and young shoots of the wild plant.
While thus engaged, I scared up a flock of sage-hens, two of which I shot, intending to have one for supper and the other for breakfast. By this time it was becoming quite dark, and I rode down to one of the little mountain streams, where I found an open place in the timber suitable for a camp. I dismounted, and after unsaddling my horse and hitching him to a tree, I prepared to start a fire.
One of them did make a rush, and passed across me before I could stop him, and I didn't mind this, as I couldn't have managed two. I got in front of the other, and cracked my whip at him, and at last I got him well in the open on the big plateau, where we shot the sage-hens.
It was apparent that from this time on, I would have to be on the alert for some good opportunity to give them the slip. "Come along," said one of them, and together we went down the creek, and soon came to the spot where my horse was tied. One of the men unhitched the animal and said: "I'll lead the horse." "Very well," said I, "I've got a couple of sage-hens here. Lead on."
It appeared that two large bears had been seen as they came along the glen, and turned up the open slope, by which we had descended after shooting the sage-hens. My best horse had not been unsaddled, as the evening was chilly; therefore Texas Bill had immediately jumped into the saddle, and was off in full pursuit. "What rifle did he take?" I inquired of little Henry.
This was his account of the hunt in the dark: "Well, you see, when the two bears were going up the open slope, down which you and I came, after shooting the sage-hens, all I could do was to gallop after them, to keep them from getting into the forest; when of course they would have been gone for ever.
While thus engaged, I scared up a flock of sage-hens, two of which I shot, intending to have one for supper and the other for breakfast. By this time it was becoming quite dark and I rode down to one of the little mountain streams, where I found an open place in the timber suitable for a camp. I dismounted, and, after unsaddling my horse and hitching him to a tree, I prepared to start a fire.
I could not get him into the wagon, as it was already overcrowded. He had a shotgun, which he had brought from England, and which had been a great blessing to him and his family, for he was a good shot, and often had a mess of sage-hens or rabbits for his family.
They did secure a few rabbits and sage-hens and one small antelope, but all the signs of the times grew blacker and blacker, and it was about as well to kill and eat the remaining ponies as to let them die of starvation. A sort of apathy seemed to fall upon everybody, old and young, and the warriors hardly felt like doing any more hunting.
I picked up the sage-hens which I had killed a few hours before, and followed the man who was leading the horse, while his companion brought up the rear. The nearer we approached the dugout the more I dreaded the idea of going back among the villanous cut-throats. My first plan of escape having failed, I now determined upon another.
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