soon again I could see the outline of the animal on
the tree. I was working along out towards the pup, when Mr. Nettel,
close to my side said, "It is a lion; be careful and take good aim
this time and kill him, if you can." I got up to the tree where I
could see the cat fairly fell, and with all the care possible, I
fired. The cat lit out from the tree, but this time he went down the
hill instead of up, and when he struck the ground it was broadside
instead of on all fours. As good luck would have it, I had hit him
square through the shoulders.

The cat was a little over seven feet long, and Mr. Nettel said that
it was not a large lion, but as it was the first one that I had seen
then I thought it was longer than a twelve-foot rail. We pulled the
cat up to the shack and turned in again. It was only eleven o'clock
and Mr. Nettel was soon sound asleep, but I had too much cat
excitement for me to do any more sleeping that night.

In the morning we skinned the cat, gathered dry leaves and stuffed
the skin and had a stuffed cat in camp. Later, we sold the skin to a
party for three dollars. We stayed in camp two weeks, feasting on
venison, trout, grouse, and other game. Some of the time we spent
prospecting for gold, but we failed to strike it rich.

At the end of the two weeks allotted Mr. Nettel, he was obliged to
return to his work, and I can say that I never spent two weeks' time
with more pleasure than I did with the friend I found while fishing
for bass.

CHAPTER XII.

Some Michigan Trips.

Owing to the recent fires (1905) in the northern portion of Michigan,
which have undoubtedly killed many of the smaller fur bearing animals
in that section, has called to mind experiences I had trapping and
hunting in both the Lower and Upper Peninsulas of that state. In the
fall of 1868 on the first of October, a party of four of us took a
boat at Buffalo, New York, and went to Alpena on Thunder Bay,
Michigan, where we purchased provisions for a winter's campaign
hunting and trapping.

We engaged a team to take our outfit up the Thunder Bay River, a
distance of about twenty miles, where the road ended. The road was an
old lumber road and rather rough over those long stretches of
corduroy. We camped at the end of the lumber road the first night and
the team returned home the next morning. We took our knapsacks with
some blankets and grub and went up the river to find a camping ground
to suit our notion.

Mr. Jones and