thful record of all the
events of camp life in connection with this expedition demands that I
omit nothing of interest, nor set down "aught in malice."

Mr. Hedges and I were on guard during the last relief of the night,
which extends from the "Wee sma' hours ayont the twal" to daybreak. The
night was wearing on when Hedges, being tempted of one of the Devils
which doubtless roam around this sulphurous region, or that perhaps
followed Lieutenant Doane and myself down from that "high mountain
apart" where the spirits roam, asked me if I was hungry. I replied that
such had been my normal condition ever since our larder had perceptibly
declined. Mr. Hedges then suggested that, as there was no food already
cooked in the camp, we take each a wing of one of the partridges and
broil it over our small fire. It was a "beautiful thought," as Judge
Bradford of Colorado used to say from the bench when some knotty legal
problem relating to a case he was trying had been solved, and was
speedily acted upon by both of us. But I was disappointed in finding so
little meat on a partridge wing, and believed that Hedges would have
chosen a leg instead of a wing, if he had pondered a moment, so I
remedied the omission, and, as a result, each roasted a leg of the bird.
Soon increase of appetite grew by what it fed on, and the breast of the
bird was soon on the broiler.

In the meantime our consciences were not idle, and we were "pricked in
our hearts." The result was that we had a vision of the disappointment
of our comrades, as each should receive at our morning breakfast his
small allotment of but one partridge distributed among so many, and it
did not take us long to send the remaining bird to join its mate. Taking
into consideration the welfare of our comrades, it seemed the best thing
for us to do, and we debated between ourselves whether the birds would
be missed in the morning, Hedges taking the affirmative and I the
negative side of the question.

This morning when our breakfast was well nigh finished, Mr. Hauser asked
"Newt," the head cook, why he had not prepared the partridges for
breakfast. "Newt" answered that when he opened the pan this morning the
birds had "done gone," and he thought that "Booby" (the dog) had eaten
them. Whereupon Hauser pelted the dog with stones and sticks. Hedges and
I, nearly bursting with our suppressed laughter, quietly exchanged
glances across the table, and the situation became quite intense for us,