Griggs courier. (Cooperstown, Griggs Co., Dak. [N.D.]) 1885-1902, 1902-02-27

well took out one from the belt and
began to examine the ball with great
interest.
''What's this for?" he asked.
That's the chamber for the anti
septic. It's capped with wax" re-
piled very seriously.
"Antiseptic!" he exclaimed, big
eyed.
Eyes. In these big hills we have to
make such long shots sometimes on
wild deer we have to have something
to keep the meat from spelling in hot
weather before we can get to it. Mine
are that way, but they are all in the
magazine of the rifle.''
Martin took the cue in twinkling
and, with an air quite as serious as
mine, asked me:
"What kind do you like best?'
"Why, concentrated creosote is the
best, if you are going to smoke VEN
ison. But for fresh meat chloride of
zinc is the best" replied.
81 don't like the idea of it, though.
Too much like enbalming,'' said Mar
tin, with an air of disgust. cts a
pity arsenic is poison, for it's so sure
and don't taste a bit. You can notice
just q faint taste from the chloride
if you have had to lose much time in
finding your game in the brush, or if
its got away wounded"
Boswell had started to pick out the
wax with the point of his knife, but
had suspended operations and sat
looking at us with big-eyed wonder.
Neither of us quivered, but we contin-
ued the discussion in that line until
finally Boswell, with all the artless-
ness of sucking lamb, gracing a
childlike smile of bashful incredulity,
said:
"say, you fellows are fooling about
that, amt your
Wbereupon we took roll on the
ground, but he didn't see anything
funny about it and kept dignifed
silence for the next hour, as he wan
dered away by himself.
We finally beckoned him to us, for
we had found the track of two big
bucks. We told him to go and get
q position on the top of the ridge
where he could get shot if they ran
around on either side.
"Pig tracks, he said with contempt
as he looked at them.
"Well. you make goat tracks for
that ridge, and you may see some
thing
"You just want to get me to climb
that big hill in the hot sun for moth
ing'
It'll be nothing all right enough,
for you'll never hit anything, but it's
worth something to see good buck
run through the brush and rocks"
said ].
"Another California fake, I'll bet a
dollar" he muttered jas he went off.
After waiting awhile for my friend
to reach the ridge, sent Martin
around the hill one way while I took
the tracks that led the other way, so
that some one would have chance
for shot if we could start the deer.
After following the tracks about half
an hour, as they wound around hill,
reached the ridge that commanded
view of the other side of the main
hill. AS followed the trail up it's
side there was a heavy thump of
hoofs from its top and q grand smash
of brush. scrambled to the top as
fast as l could, and reached it's crest
well out of breath in time to see two
big bucks in high riochet career, now
clearing brush with lofty bound, then
diving through the heaviest like a
dolphin through the wave, now skip
ping a huge holder as if playing fol-
low my leader, then twisting around
some smaller one at an angle that
would almost unjoint the tail Of q
rabbit.
It was only wild and desperate
chance of touching one, but I whirled
the rifle from my shoulder and raised
it on the largest buck just as he rose
in curve of glistening hair high
above the brush, aiming low so as to
be safe against overshooting. because
his body would drop two or three feet
while the ball was making the trip.
had the calculation made in great
shape, when, just as was about
ready to pull the trigger, the buck
suddenly wilted like a wet rag at the
top of his bound and at the same time
the crack of Boswelrs rifle came sharp
and clear from away up among the
rocks on top Of the ridge.