l was easy to follow. The buck and his mate had gone into a
thicket, and it was likely that there the pair had spent the night.

"We'll have our own trouble finding the tracks again," said the foreman.
And so it proved; for during the night some cattle and other animals had
passed in and out of the thicket, which covered a large extent of
territory.

At last the hunters hit upon the right trail, and the foreman went
ahead, leaving Roosevelt to keep somewhat toward the outside of the
cover. Both were wide-awake and on the alert, and presently the foreman
announced that he had found the spot where the wounded buck had passed
the night.

"He is not very far from here," said the foreman, and hardly had he said
this than Theodore Roosevelt heard a cracking of fallen twigs and a
breaking of the brush and lower limbs of the trees as the buck rushed
through the thicket. He ran with all speed in the direction and took
station behind a large tree.

Only a few seconds passed, and then the buck showed his head and antlers
among the brushwood. He was gazing ahead anxiously, no doubt trying to
decide if it would be safe to leap into the open and run up the trail.
Then he turned his gaze directly toward where Theodore Roosevelt was
crouching, rifle in hand.

Another instant and it would have been too late. But just as the buck's
head was turned and he sniffed the air suspiciously, the young ranchman
pulled the trigger.

"He turned his head sharply toward me as I raised the rifle," says Mr.
Roosevelt, in writing of this adventure, "and the bullet went fairly
into his throat, just under the jaw, breaking his neck, and bringing
him down in his tracks with hardly a kick."

The buck proved to be an extra fine one, and the two hunters lost no
time in dressing the game and taking it to the ranch. Not wishing to go
back for their horses, the two dragged the game over the snow, each
taking hold of an antler for that purpose. It was intensely cold, so
that each of the hunters had to drag first with one hand and then with
the other for fear of having his fingers frozen.

This was one of the times when the young ranchman and hunter was
successful in his quest. But Mr. Roosevelt has not hesitated to tell of
the many times he has gone out on the hunt only to return empty-handed
and glad enough to get back to a warm shelter and where he was sure of a
good meal.

"Ranching and hunting was no bed of roses," some one who knew him at
that ti