will continue till he has made eight or ten such jumps and reaches the place he had in his mind, when he will burrow a hole in the snow parallel with the surface and only about a foot underneath it, coil up, and go to sleep. This jumping business is to throw any coyote or fox off the track, and makes it a hard job even for a man to track him. We would come to one of these tracks, follow it, and, when we came to the jumping-off place, look carefully for the place he landed, and so on to his hole. Now if the hole was very long and the snow loose, you generally had to get your rabbit with a gun as he bolted; but if there was a slight crust to the snow, and the hole fairly short, you quietly inserted your hand in the hole. Then with a rush you followed up the hole with your hand and arm, and you had the rabbit by the hind-legs before he could kick his way out. I have seen the boys catch half-a-dozen rabbits in succession in this way, and even got pretty good at it myself. It is quite exciting, and should you miss him, you still have a chance with your gun. The hunting of small game round Iowa was very good—quail, rabbit, squirrels (red and black), and duck in the fall of the year. There was also excellent fishing to be had in the river, and splendid skating in the winter. We also had some luck with pole-cats, or skunks, as they are called, but skinning a skunk is worth all one gets for the hide. My uncle-in-law had a very fine colt, which had thrown all his boys, and when they found out I had broken horses on a ranch, they asked me to break him. I took him out into the deep snow, saddled and mounted him against his protests, but he could not do much in the way of bucking on account of the snow. After I had galloped him a mile or two through the drifts, he was as gentle as a cat, and I rode him back to the house. When I arrived, the boys were outside waiting for me; and to show them how quiet he was, I threw one leg over the horn of the saddle and joked them a little about their horsemanship. This was more than one of the boys could stand, so he threw a snowball at the horse from behind, which hit him on the inside of the flank. How I got my leg back into position I don’t know, for things were lively for a minute; but I managed to stick to him, though I wrenched my leg pretty severely, so as to stop my hunting for a few days.