I was at it I cut many thin
slices of venison, and, after roasting them, I stored them away in the
capacious pocket of my coat.

My breakfast finished, I again set out to see what had become of the
remains of the deer. In two or three places the sharp hoofs had cut
lines in the soft earth, and there were tufts of whitish-gray hair
elsewhere. A hundred yards or more down the hollow I came to a bare spot
where recently there had been a pool of water. Here I found cat tracks
as large as my two hands. I had never seen the track of a mountain-lion,
but, all the same, I knew that this was the real thing. What an enormous
brute he must have been! I cast fearful glances into the surrounding
thickets.

It was not needful to travel much farther. Under a bush well hidden in a
clump of trees lay what now remained of my deer. A patch of gray hair, a
few long bones, a split skull, and two long ears--no more! Even the hide
was gone. Perhaps the coyotes had finished the job after the lion had
gorged himself, but I did not think so. It seemed to me that coyotes
would have scattered the remains. Those two long ears somehow seemed
pathetic. I wished for a second that the lion were in range of my rifle.

The lion was driven from my mind when I saw a troop of deer cross a
glade below me. I had to fight myself to keep from shooting. The wind
blew rather strong in my face, which probably accounted for the deer not
winding me.

Then the whip-like crack of a rifle riveted me where I stood. One of the
deer fell, and the others bounded away. I saw a tall man stride down
the slope and into the glade. He was not like any of the loggers or
lumbermen. They were mostly brawny and round-shouldered. This man was
lithe, erect; he walked like athletes I had seen. Surely I should find a
friend in him, and I lost no time in running down into the glade. He saw
me as soon as I was clear of the trees, and stood leaning on his rifle.

"Wal, dog-gone my buttons!" he ejaculated. "Who're you?"

I blurted out all about myself, at the same time taking stock of him.
He was not young, but I had never seen a young man so splendid. Hair,
beard, and skin were all of a dark gray. His eyes, too, were gray--the
keenest and clearest I had ever looked into. They shone with a kindly
light, otherwise I might have thought his face hard and stern. His
shoulders were very wide, his arms long, his hands enormous. His
buckskin shirt attracted my attention to his other clothes