There is much to tell about those wonderful days in the High Sierras of California. Every day had a@ story. The day we came to the top of bluff and looked down into a glass-like lake with the feeling that no man had ever looked down there before and saw five bucks swimming to shore, beautiful, strong, graceful animals. We didn't shoot them. We didn't go out to kill indiscriminately and these hadn't a chance to run and besides we all felt that it would have been like shooting and rid-dung somebody's canvas into the painting of which he had put his
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