Big Game in the Rockies 
west, and an ugly rolling of thunder warned 
us that no genial spring day with shirt-sleeve 
accompaniment was to gladden and cheer us. 
Still we must look for bears; so buttoning up 
our coats and turning up our collars we sur- 
veyed the country. At the same time it was 
impossible to forego a study of the grandeur 
of the view displayed before us. 
Those who have seen the mountains and 
foot-hills only in the fall of the year, when 
every blade of grass is parched and brown 
and dry, can form no adequate idea of the 
change that presents itself in the spring. Es- 
pecially is one surprised when, standing on 
the top of some mountain height surrounded 
by everlasting snow, he looks down over the 
valleys and sees the richness and vividness of 
the green growing grasses which seem to roll 
up almost to his feet. As we stood there we 
had a glorious panorama. The vast gathering 
cloud was behind us, and the sun, though 
not shining for us, was lighting up the broad 
valley below. Greybull River stretched away 
until it joined the Big Horn beyond. The 
whole range of the Big Horn Mountains was 
visible, their snow-tops glistening like a bank 
8 r3 
