When Haught first came to Arizona and began his hunting up over the rim he used to get down in the cedar country, close to the desert.  Here he heard of a pure black antelope that was the leader of a herd of ordinary color, which was a grayish white.  The day came when Haught saw this black antelope.  It was a very large, beautiful stag, the most noble and wild and sagacious animal Haught had ever seen.  For years he tried to stalk it and kill it, and so did other hunters.  But no hunter ever got even a shot at it.  Finally this black antelope disappeared and was never heard of again.

By this time Copple had been permitted a long breathing spell, and now began a tale calculated to outdo the Arabian Nights.  I envied his most remarkable imagination.  His story had to do with hunting meat for a mining camp in Mexico.  He got so expert with a rifle that he never aimed at deer.  Just threw his gun, as was a habit of gun-fighters!  Once the camp was out of meat, and also he was out of ammunition.  Only one shell left!  He came upon a herd of deer licking salt at a deer lick.  They were small deer and he wanted several or all of them.  So he manoeuvred around and waited until five of the deer had lined up close together.  Then, to make sure, he aimed so as to send his one bullet through their necks.  Killed the whole five in one shot!

We were all reduced to a state of mute helplessness and completely at Copple’s mercy.  Next he gave us one of his animal tales.  He was hunting along the gulf shore on the coast of Sonora, where big turtles come out to bask in the sun and big jaguars come down to prowl for meat.  One morning he saw a jaguar jump on the back of a huge turtle, and begin to paw at its neck.  Promptly the turtle drew in head and flippers, and was safe under its shell.  The jaguar scratched and clawed at a great rate, but to no avail.  Then the big cat turned round and seized the tail of the turtle and began to chew it.  Whereupon the turtle stuck out its head, opened its huge mouth and grasped the tail of the jaguar.  First to give in was the cat.  He let go and let out a squall.  But the turtle started to crawl off, got going strong, and dragged the jaguar into the sea and drowned him.  With naive earnestness Copple assured his mute listeners that he could show them the exact spot in Sonora where this happened.

Retribution inevitably overtakes transgressors.  Copple in his immense loquaciousness was not transgressing much, for he really was no greater dreamer than I, but the way he put things made us want to see the mighty hunter have a fall.

We rested the hounds next day, and I was glad to rest myself.  About sunset Copple rode up to the rim to look for his mules.  We all heard him shoot eight times with his rifle and two with his revolver.  Everybody said:  “Turkeys!  Ten turkeys—­maybe a dozen, if Copple got two in line!” And we were all glad to think so.  We watched eagerly for him, but he did not return till dark.  He