tale calculated to outdo the Arabian Nights. I envied his most
remarkable imagination. His story had to do with hunting meat for a
mining camp in Mexico. He got so expert with a rifle that he never aimed
at deer. Just threw his gun, as was a habit of gun-fighters! Once the
camp was out of meat, and also he was out of ammunition. Only one shell
left! He came upon a herd of deer licking salt at a deer lick. They were
small deer and he wanted several or all of them. So he manoeuvred around
and waited until five of the deer had lined up close together. Then, to
make sure, he aimed so as to send his one bullet through their necks.
Killed the whole five in one shot!

We were all reduced to a state of mute helplessness and completely at
Copple's mercy. Next he gave us one of his animal tales. He was hunting
along the gulf shore on the coast of Sonora, where big turtles come out
to bask in the sun and big jaguars come down to prowl for meat. One
morning he saw a jaguar jump on the back of a huge turtle, and begin to
paw at its neck. Promptly the turtle drew in head and flippers, and was
safe under its shell. The jaguar scratched and clawed at a great rate,
but to no avail. Then the big cat turned round and seized the tail of
the turtle and began to chew it. Whereupon the turtle stuck out its
head, opened its huge mouth and grasped the tail of the jaguar. First to
give in was the cat. He let go and let out a squall. But the turtle
started to crawl off, got going strong, and dragged the jaguar into the
sea and drowned him. With naive earnestness Copple assured his mute
listeners that he could show them the exact spot in Sonora where this
happened.

Retribution inevitably overtakes transgressors. Copple in his immense
loquaciousness was not transgressing much, for he really was no greater
dreamer than I, but the way he put things made us want to see the mighty
hunter have a fall.

We rested the hounds next day, and I was glad to rest myself. About
sunset Copple rode up to the rim to look for his mules. We all heard him
shoot eight times with his rifle and two with his revolver. Everybody
said: "Turkeys! Ten turkeys--maybe a dozen, if Copple got two in line!"
And we were all glad to think so. We watched eagerly for him, but he did
not return till dark. He seemed vastly sore at himself. What a
remarkable hard luck story he told! He had come upon a flock of turkeys,
and they were rather difficult to see. All of them were close, an