into execution; I thought he was "gassing," and put it
down to the credit of the flowing bowl.

Next morning I awoke at my usual time,--daybreak,--got out of my
blankets, arose, stirred the fire into a great blaze and turned my back
to it to get a good warm. I looked for my companion,--his blankets were
empty; I glanced towards the arms,--his rifle and belt were gone; I felt
his blankets,--they were cold. He had consequently been gone for some
time.

I made a cast round, and struck his fresh tracks going in the direction
of our last day's tramp. He had "gone for" the big buck. For my part,
I was too tired to stir that day. Though then as hard as nails, and
in first-rate condition and training, I was thoroughly done up and
quite stiff--"played out"--with the previous day's wetting and walking,
so remained in camp, and spent the time in helping to make the
plum-pudding, dress and stuff the turkeys, and in resting,--principally
in resting.

Night came, but not my comrade. I was not exactly uneasy about him, for
he was a first-rate hunter and mountaineer; but many are the unexpected
accidents that may happen to a lone wanderer in the wilderness.

I piled the wood on the fire and sat waiting for him until near
midnight. Then I began to think I was foolish to do so, and had better
go to sleep. Just as I was turning in the dogs ran out, frisking and
capering, into the darkness. I heard the whistle of my comrade, and he
strode into the light of the camp-fire. On his back, in a sling
extemporized out of the skin of the deer, were the hind-quarters of a
big buck. It was not yet twelve, and though a close shave on being
Christmas-day, our bill of fare was filled. Some more flowing bowl.

At breakfast the following day my companion narrated to us the story of
his late hunt, as nearly as may be, in the following words:

He said, "By daylight I was where you came to grief by breaking through
the ice, with this difference, that I was upon the other side of the
creek, having crossed it higher up by means of a beaver dam. Being a
cold trail, I pushed ahead sharply, keeping a good lookout, and in a
little over two hours came to where the buck had lain down to pass the
dark of the night. There being no morning moon, I knew he had not
stirred before sunrise, and might, therefore, be browsing, or standing
under some tree quite near; so continued my way most cautiously, never
following the tracks when they crossed an open, unless obli