The 44-caliber slug killed it instantly. I loaded the carcass on the horse, took the reins and walked the horse back into camp. It served as an attraction to all the young boys following me and peppering me with questions as I dressed out the deer.

---"Are you a pistoleer, mister?"

---"Can I see your guns?"

---"Is that a real Bowie knife?"

They looked in fascination as I prepared the hide for tanning, sheering the hide with the razor-sharp knife crafted long ago by James Black of Washington, Arkansas.

I sent Willi to Herman Kohrs' wagon with a ham from the freshly killed deer to trade for some milk from...