When we reached the camp shortly before dark, we found the others had already arrived, ours making the sixth turkey in the evening’s bag.  We had drawn ours on killing it, as had the others, and after supper Uncle Lance superintended the stuffing of the two largest birds.  While this was in progress, others made a stiff mortar, and we coated each turkey with about three inches of the waxy play, feathers and all.  Opening our camp-fire, we placed the turkeys together, covered them with ashes and built a heaping fire over and around them.  A number of haunts had been located by the others, but as we expected to make an early hunt in the morning, we decided not to visit any of the roosts that night.  After Uncle Lance had regaled us with hunting stories of an early day, the discussion innocently turned to my recent elopement.  By this time the scars had healed fairly well, and I took the chaffing in all good humor.  Tully told a personal experience, which, if it was the truth, argued that in time I might become as indifferent to my recent mishap as any one could wish.

“My prospects of marrying a few years ago,” said Tully, lying full stretch before the fire, “were a whole lot better than yours, Quirk.  But my ambition those days was to boss a herd up the trail and get top-notch wages.  She was a Texas girl, just like yours, bred up in Van Zandt County.  She could ride a horse like an Indian.  Bad horses seemed afraid of her.  Why, I saw her once when she was about sixteen, take a black stallion out of his stable,—­lead him out with but a rope about his neck,—­throw a half hitch about his nose, and mount him as though he was her pet.  Bareback and without a bridle she rode him ten miles for a doctor.  There wasn’t a mile of the distance either but he felt the quirt burning in his flank and knew he was being ridden by a master.  Her father scolded her at the time, and boasted about it later.

“She had dozens of admirers, and the first impression I ever made on her was when she was about twenty.  There was a big tournament being given, and all the young bloods in many counties came in to contest for the prizes.  I was a double winner in the games and contests—­won a roping prize and was the only lad that came inside the time limit as a lancer, though several beat me on rings.  Of course the tournament ended with a ball.  Having won the lance prize, it was my privilege of crowning the ‘queen’ of the ball.  Of course I wasn’t going to throw away such a chance, for there was no end of rivalry amongst the girls over it.  The crown was made of flowers, or if there were none in season, of live-oak leaves.  Well, at the ball after the tournament I crowned Miss Kate with a crown of oak leaves.  After that I felt bold enough to crowd matters, and things came my way.  We were to be married during Easter week, but her mother up and died, so we put it off awhile for the sake of appearances.