We had lit our fire under the dark foliage of the oaks and thus illumined the surrounding scenery, when Trusty rose from my side, walked a few paces toward the pass and began growling. I called him to me coaxingly and bad him lie down by my side, and at this moment we heard the sound of a horse rapidly approaching us from the valley. We knew it was Owl, but for all that every one seized his rifle and awaited the arrival. Our friend soon rode up to the fire, took the enormous antlers with the entire head of the stag off his horse, silently laid them and the handkerchief before John, led his horse into the grass, and lay down on his buffalo robe near the fire without saying a word. I asked him whether he had seen anything of Indians, upon which he stated that he had left his horse in the glen and gone up alone to the stag: after cutting off its head and taking the handkerchief he went to our camping place and ascended the nearest hill whence he could have an outlook. The whole party of Indians were quietly camping on the spot, and at least a dozen columns of smoke were rising from it. We cut the antlers off the head and put them with the skull bone to dry at the fire, and then got supper ready, while Owl turned the stag's tongue on a spit. In the morning the familiar notes of awakening turkeys aroused us again once more. After a long time we cheerily seized our rifles and hurried down the stream toward them to the spot where large peccan-nut trees enthralled them by the rich crop of nuts. We behaved most unmercifully to these dainty birds, and when we returned to camp had a perfect hill of them lying before us. We set to work roasting and frying, in which we were greatly aided by the extraordinary quantity of delicate fat which these birds have in autumn. The remaining turkeys were cleaned, rubbed with salt, and wild pepper, which is very common in the woods at this season, and packed on the mules; we then continued our journey down through the hills to the long looked for valley of the Puerco.