ed; so
we started on the trail of those that got away.

For a while walking was easy and we made pretty good time; then we had
a rocky hill to get over. We had to use care when we got into the
timber; there were marshy places which tried us sorely, and windfall
so thick that we could hardly get through. We were obliged to pick our
way carefully to avoid noise, and we were all together, not having
come to a place where it seemed better to separate. We had about
resolved to go to our horses when we heard a volley of shots.

"That is somebody bunch-shooting," said Mr. Struble. "They are in
Brewster Lake Park, by the sound. That means that the elk will pass
here in a short time and we may get a shot. The elk will be here long
before the men, since the men have no horses; so let's hurry and get
placed along the only place they can get out. We'll get our limit."

We hastily secreted ourselves along the narrow gorge through which the
elk must pass. We were all on one side, and Mr. Haynes said to me,
"Rest your gun on that rock and aim at the first rib back of the
shoulder. If you shoot haphazard you may cripple an elk and let it get
away to die in misery. So make sure when you fire."

It didn't seem a minute before we heard the beat of their hoofs and a
queer panting noise that I can't describe. First came a beautiful
thing with his head held high; his great antlers seemed to lie half
his length on his back; his eyes were startled, and his shining black
mane seemed to bristle. I heard the report of guns, and he tumbled in
a confused heap. He tried to rise, but others coming leaped over him
and knocked him down. Some more shots, and those behind turned and
went back the way they had come.

Mr. Haynes shouted to me, "Shoot, shoot; why _don't_ you shoot!"

So I fired my Krag, but next I found myself picking myself up and
wondering who had struck me and for what. I was so dizzy I could
scarcely move, but I got down to where the others were excitedly
admiring the two dead elk that they said were the victims of Mrs.
O'Shaughnessy's gun. She was as excited and delighted as if she had
never declared she would not kill anything. "Sure, it's many a meal
they'll make for little hungry mouths," she said. She was rubbing her
shoulder ruefully. "I don't want to fire any more big guns. I thought
old Goliar had hit me a biff with a blackthorn shilaley," she
remarked.

Mr. Haynes turned to me and said, "You are a dandy hunter! you didn