Each of my first three bullets had inflicted a mortal wound.
It was already twilight, and I merely opened the carcass, and then trotted back to camp.

Next morning I returned and with much labor took off the skin.

The fur was very fine, the animal being in excellent trim, and unusually bright-colored.

Unfortunately, in packing it out I lost the skull, and had to supply its place with one of plaster.

The beauty of the trophy, and the memory of the circumstances under which I procured it, make me value it perhaps more highly than any other in my house.
This is the only instance in which I have been regularly charged by a grisly.