mice won't seem so bad when we have to eat them."

Stanton took charge of the kettle and dished out the rations that
night.

"Partridge is good enough for me," said Richards, fearing that Stanton
might forget his prejudice against owl.

"Me, too," echoed Pete.

"I'll take owl," said I.

Easton said nothing.

After we had eaten, Stanton asked: "How'd you like the partridge,
Richards?"

"It was fine," said he. "Guess it was a piece of a young one you gave
me, for it wasn't as tough as they usually are."

"Maybe it was young, but that partridge was _owl_." "I'll be darned!"
exclaimed Richards. His face was a study for a moment, then he
laughed. "If that was owl they're all right and I'm a convert. I'll
eat all I can get after this."

After leaving Lake Desolation the owls had begun to come to us, and
Richards was one of the best owl hunters of the party. At first one
or two a day were killed, but now whenever we halted an owl would fly
into a tree and twitter, and, with a very wise appearance, proceed to
look us over as though he wanted to find out what we were up to