elt had separated from his companion when of a sudden he
caught sight of a beautiful doe. It was a fair shot, and dropping on one
knee he took aim and fired. But to his intense chagrin the doe bounded
off and disappeared in the brushwood.

"Hit anything?" sang out the foreman.

"I am afraid not," was the answer.

"Never mind; better luck next time." And then both sank down behind a
rock where they could get a good view of a hollow ahead of them.

They had been behind the rock but a short time when they heard a
cracking of twigs, and a fine black-tail buck came cautiously into view.
Both fired, and the buck rolled over, never to rise again. Then another
deer came into view and both fired again, but the game was not struck
and lost no time in disappearing.

"Never mind; one isn't so bad," said Theodore Roosevelt, and his
companion agreed with him.

The hunters now decided to go forward into the hollow and look for the
doe Theodore Roosevelt had missed. This was done, and soon the foreman
pointed to some drops and splashes of blood.

"Must have hit her, after all," said the foreman. "We can take our time
about following her up. We'll be sure to get her sooner or later."

But locating the wounded doe proved not so easy, after all. The trail
was followed for some time, but was lost on the hard ground higher up;
and at last the two hunters agreed to look for new game. They had lunch,
and then started out nearly as fresh as before when suddenly the foreman
called out:--

"There's your game all right!"

He pointed to a clump of bushes, and running forward, both saw the doe
stretched out, stiff and cold. She had been mortally wounded, after all,
much to both hunters' gratification.

So far the hunting had been on foot, but now the hunters took again to
their steeds. Mr. Roosevelt says he was wishing for just one more shot,
to see if he could not do better than before, when his wish was
gratified. Just ahead a yearling black-tail buck leaped into view and
cantered away. After the buck went both hunters, but Theodore Roosevelt
was in the lead, and this time determined to make no miss or poor shot.
He waited until the buck turned its side to him, then fired with
especial care. The game staggered on, then fell. The bullet had gone
clean through its body, and in a few seconds it breathed its last.

CHAPTER VII

RUNS FOR MAYOR OF NEW YORK CITY--MARRIAGE TO EDITH KERMIT CAREW--HUNTING
IN THE BIGHORN MOUNTAINS--A W