American Big-Game Hunting 



up, a large part of the way on hands and 

 knees. I carried the two rifles and the glass, 

 going in front to stamp some sort of a trail 

 in the sliding rocks, while T panted be- 

 hind me, bearing the goat-hide on his back. 



Our next hunt was from seven till four, up 

 and down, in the presence of noble and lonely 

 mountains. The straight peaks which mar- 

 shal round the lake of Chelan were in our 

 view nearby, beyond the valley of the Twispt, 

 and the whole Cascade range rose endlessly, 

 and seemed to fill the world. Except in Swit- 

 zerland, I have never seen such an unbroken 

 area of mountains. And all this beauty going 

 begging, while each year our American citi- 

 zens of the East, more ignorant of their own 

 country and less identified with its soil than 

 any race upon earth, herd across the sea to 

 the tables d'hote they know by heart ! But 

 this is wandering a long way from goats, of 

 which this day we saw none. 



A gale set in after sunset. This particular 

 afternoon had been so mellow, the sun had 

 shone so clear from a stable sky, that I had 

 begun to believe the recent threats of winter 

 were only threats, and that we had some open 



so 



