o Jim went to work and in a short time he had cut three places on
either side so that the water could drain through and back into the
river.

While he was busy I went back of our camp with my shotgun, looking for
game. At this point the walls bent back from the river for over a mile,
and there was a growth of brush and of pine and cottonwood trees.

I had gone probably half a mile, when I saw a heavy bird rise from the
brush ahead of me and light in a tree. It was too big for a grouse and I
was puzzled to make it out.

Keeping cautiously out of sight I crawled up to within range, and,
taking aim at a dark bunch among the branches, I fired and down it came
kerplunk on the ground.

I ran quickly up, and to my surprise I saw that it was a fine turkey, a
big gobbler. "My! won't this make the boys open their eyes and their
mouths too," I mused to myself.

Picking up the turkey I continued hunting back towards the receding wall
of the canyon. After a half hour's climb over rocks and through brush I
came to a dark, narrow slit running westward through the wall of the
canyon.

I decided not to go any further and perhaps it was just as well.
Something made me turn around, and I took up the trail for the camp. I
had not gone far before I knew that I was being watched and followed.

Once I caught sight of a stealthy figure crawling from bush to bush. I
was not greatly concerned, for I did not think that the object of the
Indian was an attack, but simply to stalk me, and find out my business.

When I reached camp, I found Tom and Jim busy getting supper. They
glanced up as I approached. I had fastened the turkey behind me in my
belt.

"You're a mighty hunter," jeered Jim. "Got nothing but exercise as
usual."

"Just bad luck. I'm sorry, boys," I replied meekly.

"What's the use of being sorry?" growled Tom. "I'm tired of eating
nothing but jerked venison. I want a change of diet."

"You do, you old growler," I exclaimed. "Take that," and I swatted him
over the head with the turkey.

Tom nearly fell over with the shock and the surprise of seeing a real
turkey.

It was the first that we had seen since we had left the hospitable home
of our friends the Hoskins, way back in Kansas.

"Thanksgiving has come!" cried Jim. "Where did you put salt on his
tail?"

"He was roosting in a tree back there," I replied, "and I just naturally
called him down."

"Glad you did," came from Tom. "We will soon have him ready for supp