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.