ut is
still nervous, and keeps her forefeet down just long enough to get
herself over the ground. She is beautiful, and Kelly simply adores her
and keeps her bright-red coat like satin. Faye can seldom ride with me
because of his numerous duties, and not one of the ladies rides here,
so I have Kelly go, for one never knows what one may come across on the
roads around here. They are so seldom traveled, and are little more than
trails.

CAMP BAKER, MONTANA TERRITORY, March, 1878.

THE mail goes out in the morning, and in it a letter must be sent to
you, but it is hard--hard for me to write--to have to tell you that my
dear dog, my beautiful greyhound, is dead--dead and buried! It seems so
cruel that he should have died now, so soon after getting back to his
old home, friends, and freedom. On Tuesday, Faye and Lieutenant Lomax
went out for a little hunt, letting Hal go with them, which was unusual,
and to which I objected, for Lieutenant Lomax is a notoriously poor shot
and hunter, and I was afraid he might accidentally kill Hal--mistake him
for a wild animal. So, as they went down our steps I said, "Please do
not shoot my dog!" much more in earnest than in jest, for I felt that
he would really be in danger, as it would be impossible to keep him with
them all the time.

As they went across the parade ground, rifles over their shoulders, Hal
jumped up on Faye and played around him, expressing his delight at being
allowed to go on a hunt. He knew what a gun was made for just as well as
the oldest hunter. That was the last I saw of my dog! Faye returned long
before I had expected him, and one quick glance at his troubled face
told me that something terrible had happened. I saw that he was unhurt
and apparently well, but--where was Hal? With an awful pain in my heart
I asked, "Did Lieutenant Lomax shoot Hal?" After a second's hesitation
Faye said "No; but Hal is dead!" It seemed too dreadful to be true, and
at first I could not believe it, for it had been only such a short time
since I had seen him bounding and leaping, evidently in perfect health,
and oh, so happy!

No one in the house even thought of dinner that night, and poor black
Cagey sobbed and moaned so loud and long Faye was obliged to ask him
to be quiet. For hours I could not listen to the particulars. Faye
says that they had not gone out so very far when he saw a wild cat some
distance away, and taking careful aim, he shot it, but the cat, instead
of falling,