Billy Baxters Letters | Page 4

was a beaut, and stood me three fifty. A fellow can never be too
careful. Up there you are likely any minute to come face to face with an
Apache or some old left-over Aztec rubbering around among the trees.
At the last minute Bud Hathaway's father had to die, so just Teddy and
myself went. After we left the train we rode twenty miles in a wagon to
Freshwater Lake, which was our destination. The house where we
stayed was kept by a half-breed guide named Sarpo, and with him lived
his two sons and his second wife, who was a young white girl, and not
a bad looker at that.
The next morning we started out after ducks. I made a horrible bluff
that I was one of the old boys at the business, and that I was on to
everything--till it came to loading my hammerless, and there's where I
went to the bad. I couldn't get the blamed thing open. Teddy handed me
a few of his kind little remarks, and I got back at him with something
personal. He got sore. No thoroughbred kidder would have grown
personal, but I couldn't think of anything else at the time. There was
nothing stirring in the duck line, and for two hours we sat all hunched
up in a little boat among a lot of weeds. It was getting to be a sad affair
for me, and I was thinking of Atlantic City, and the bands of music, and
the swell dances, and trying to figure where these hunters have the fun
they are always coming home and talking about, when suddenly along

came a drove of ducks. On the square, there must have been a million.
The other members of the party began picking them off, but your Uncle
Bill is one of those wise shooters. I waited till they were right over my
head. Say! they were so thick I couldn't see the sky. I let go with the
first barrel, right into the center of the bunch. Nit duck. Then the
second barrel went off of its own accord. I'll swear, Jim, I had nothing
whatever to do with it. Anyway, nit duck. I think if I'd had three barrels
on that gun I would have nailed a duck, a duck and a half, or two ducks,
as I was just getting good. I loaded up, and I must have been flustered a
bit, as I blew one of the decoys clear into the next block.
Then things again assumed their usual hunter's attitude, and after sitting
for another hour we paddled over to our sail-boat and started down the
lake for the house. It was blowing pretty hard, and the sky was blacker
than Pittsburg. The skipper said something about a squall, but it didn't
hit us until we were about two hundred yards from the dock. Then we
got it, and got it good. It was buttercups and daisies. Thunder, lightning,
rain, and all the side dishes. I'd have given eight dollars to have seen a
cable car coming along about that time. The skipper yelled to me to
ease off the larboard stay. Now, I might know something about mince
pie, but a larboard stay is not my long and hasty. Then some one
pushed me aside, and succeeded in putting things in such excellent
shape that we ran plumb through the dock. It was great!
That night we sat around, and Sarpo and his sons told some funny
stories. My, but they were to the saddings! I told one of my best, and
nobody filtered but Teddy.
The next morning at five we took the dogs and started out after deer.
They have what they call run-ways or deer passes, and the deer always
go the same route. They ought to have better sense, although as far as I
am concerned they are perfectly safe. They put me on one of the passes,
behind a lot of underbrush. Well, I sat and sat until I went to sleep, but
I slept with one eye open. Deadwood Dick and all the great scouts and
trappers had the one-eye-open habit. I was awakened by hearing
something crack, and there standing about twenty feet away with its
side turned to me was a deer. It must have belonged to the fair sex, as it
had no horns. Talk about shaking! I would have shaken my best friend.
I finally pulled myself together, and remembering the ducks, I let her
have both barrels at once. She kicked her feet up in the air, turned her

head, and on the level, she gave me the laugh and cut into the woods. I
believe she saw me all the time, and knew I was a lobster.
On the