“If I was trying to catch you, I’d want something stronger than this rag.  Now please wander away again, and let me have another try,” he said; and then, as the animal did walk off a dozen paces, as if encouraging him to descend, he courteously added, “Thank you.”

A minute later he was thrilled to find that his erratic loop had actually dropped over the end of the gun barrel.  A quick jerk at the proper instant tightened the clutch, and after that it was the easiest thing in the world to pull the weapon up within reach of his trembling hands.

“Now, we’ll see if you’re going to have the laugh on me, you old scamp!  Hi!  Hold on, there!  Who said you could walk away?  Come back here, and have it out!  I dare you!”

The elk, as if suspecting that all was not well, had indeed started to move off.  But when Bluff made a great feint of coming down, he succeeded in exciting the animal’s anger again, and caution was flung to the winds.

Bluff watched for his chance, and when it came he made sure work of it by sending a bullet through the heart of the fighting elk.

Even then he waited a little while.

“Going to try getting up again?  This time I’m ready for you, old fellow!” he said to the fallen beast; but presently it became patent, even to his inexperienced eyes, that the elk had breathed its last.

“Now, if Will were only here,” Bluff remarked enviously, as he put one foot on his prize and tried to look very unconcerned, as if knocking down such big game might be a matter of almost daily occurrence with him.

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 a smile.

“What’s that?” roared Jerry, springing to his feet.

“Oh, you needn’t get excited about it.  Do you see the dull spots on my knife?  Well, I bled my game, all right, just as I wanted to do with that bully good blade that was left behind; and if Reddy will only go back with me, we can bring the old fellow in on a horse,” said Bluff coolly.