by our dare-devil young Westerner, and on this occasion, quickly availing himself of my offer, he started down the steep hill at a break-neck pace, followed by John, in a bee-line for the wolverine.
No sagacious Indian cunning, of which we so often read, was brought to play in the hunt. It was merely a question of which could run the faster and keep it up the longer. The wolverine is not a swift animal, nature having provided him with only short limbs, but on this occasion he used such as he had to the very best possible advantage, and with a rolling gait made his way off across the rough stony plains at a record-breaking pace. His pursuers were, however, soon observed to be gaining on him, and as the distance between the runners gradually lessened, the race became exciting, even to me, looking on from the hill-top.
Once or twice in their wild chase the men had bad tumbles, but recovering themselves, continued to gain on the wolverine until they had almost overhauled him. Then "bang" went the revolver, and the glutton, unhurt, dodging around some rocks, was almost run upon by François, who in his excitement fired again, and at the same time took a header. It appeared as if he had shot himself instead of the wolverine, but he had done neither; he had only experienced another bad tumble on the rough, rocky ground. Gathering himself up again, François followed in hot pursuit, making a most determined chase, but just as he was about to do the tragic act, Mr. Wolverine disappeared among the broken rocks, and could not any more be found.
Thus ended the hunt, and the men, greatly disgusted, wearily recrossed the plain and climbed the hill.
