Not knowing how to go about cutting the elk up, Bluff headed back toward
the camp. Before leaving the spot he thought to bleed the quarry, after
a fashion, for he understood that such a thing was always done to make
the meat taste better.

Half an hour later he showed up in the camp. It was next to impossible
to get lost in that valley, which might account for Bluff finding his
way back with comparative ease.

Jerry was lounging alongside one of the tents, engaged in getting his
fishing tackle in order, for a try in the pool below the falls.

"Shall we send the horses out to tote it in?" he asked, after the usual
fashion of greeting greenhorns when they come back from a hunt
apparently unattended by success.

"Did you hear me shoot?" asked Bluff carelessly.

"Why, yes, twice; and some time apart. What was it--a crow or a
jack-rabbit?"

Bluff only smiled as Mr. Mabie came out of the tent and glanced at him.

"What would you say that was, sir?" he asked, thrusting something in
front of the old stockman.

Starting back, Mr. Mabie looked hastily at the hairy object.

"An elk's tail, as sure as you live!" he remarked, his face relaxing in