Identifier: westernfield61905olym (find matches)
Title: Western field
Year: 1902 (1900s)
Authors: Olympic Club (San Francisco, Calif.) California Game and Fish Protective Associations
Subjects: Olympic Club (San Francisco, Calif.) California Game and Fish Protectice Associations Sports
Publisher: San Francisco
Contributing Library: San Francisco Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: San Francisco Public Library

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in a bloody conflict. The animal turnedslowly about, and with an ominous, rum-bling growl started briskly off into the brushwith long, fearful strides. Bill lifted hisrifie, took a surprisingly quick aim, andpulled the trigger. A moment later theysaw the animal rolling convulsively amongthe rocks, where in a few minutes hebreathed his last. It was the easiest thingthe boys had ever witnessed, and was doneso quickly that the young students weredumfounded. After that they found the oldenthusiasm returning, and no longer har-bored a fear of the formidable Bruin. One day, about a week after the boys ar-rived at the old hunters cabin, they wentout alone in search of bear—taking withthem a good supply of cartridges, a hunt-ing-knife, six-shooters and rifles. They re-turned late in the afternoon, almost breath-less, declaring that they had run across a whole drove of deers about two hundredyards from the mouth of Red Canon, a pointbut a short distance from the cabin. Bill 104 WESTERN FIELD
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BIG BILL SAW THEM AS THEY APPROACHED. looked Incredulously at the young hunters,and smiled, agreeably. Well, why didnt you get one? he asked,calmly. We—we couldnt get close enough, oneof them explained. Then he added, test-ingly: Why, even you, Mr. McGuffey,couldnt have shot one if you had been righton them! You never saw such wildanimals. Me couldnt shoot a deer? They weretouching a tender spot in Bills pride, so hethrew his shoulders back with much dig-nity, and continued with a tone of cold as-surance: Huh! thar aint a critter aswalks on four legs that / couldnt bringdown if I wanted to. Blast my buttons, gen-tlemen, but I aint been huntinthese twenty-five yeers fur nothin ; No sir! You kinchew my suspenders ef I dont go out anshow you what kind of a hunter I am! With this expression of braggadocio BigBill shouldered his Old Trusty and walked moodily out into the red glow of sunset.The woods and hills were burnished withgold and crimson of departing day, and hegazed around him wi

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