An Elk-Hunt at Two-Ocean Pass 219 



rapid brooks, through wet meadows and willow-flats, 

 the eastern to the Yellowstone, the western to the 

 Snake. The dark pine forests swept down from the 

 flanks and lower ridges of the mountains to the 

 edges of the marshy valley. Above them jutted gray 

 rock peaks, snow-drifts lying in the rents that 

 seamed their northern faces. Far below its, from a 

 great basin at the foot of the cliff, filled with the 

 pine forest, rose the musical challenge of a bull elk ; 

 and we saw a band of cows and calves looking like 

 mice as they ran among the trees. 



It was getting late, and after some search we 

 failed to find any trail leading down; so at last we 

 plunged over the brink at a venture. It was very 

 rough scrambling, dropping from bench to bench, 

 and in places it was not only difficult but dangerous 

 for the loaded pack-animals. Here and there we 

 were helped by well-beaten elk-trails, which we could 

 follow for several hundred yards at a time. On 

 one narrow pine-clad ledge, we met a spike bull face 

 to face ; and in scrambling down a very steep, bare, 

 rock-strewn shoulder, the loose stones started by 

 the horses hoofs, bounding in great leaps to the for 

 est below, dislodged two cows. 



As evening fell, we reached the bottom, and 

 pitched camp in a beautiful point of open pine forest, 

 thrust out into the meadow. There was good shel 

 ter, and plenty of wood, water and grass; we built 

 a huge fire and put up our tents, scattering them in 



