An Elk-Hunt at Two-Ocean Pass 233 



Hofer and I, with two pack-ponies, made a rapid 

 push for the Upper Geyser Basin. We traveled 

 fast. The first day was gray and overcast, a cold 

 wind blowing strong in our faces. Toward evening 

 we came on a bull elk in a willow thicket; he was 

 on his knees in a hollow, thrashing and beating 

 the willows with his antlers. At dusk we halted and 

 went into camp, by some small pools on the summit 

 of the pass north of Red Mountain. The elk were 

 calling all around us. We pitched our cosey tent, 

 dragged great stumps for the fire, cut evergreen 

 boughs for our beds, watered the horses, tethered 

 them to improvised picket-pins in a grassy glade, 

 and then set about getting supper ready. The wind 

 had gone down, and snow was falling thick in large, 

 soft flakes; we were evidently at the beginning of 

 a heavy snowstorm. All night we slept soundly in 

 our snug tent. When we arose at dawn there was 

 a foot and a half of snow on the ground, and the 

 flakes were falling as fast as ever. There is no 

 more tedious work than striking camp in bad weath 

 er ; and it was over two hours from the time we rose 

 to the time we started. It is sheer misery to untangle 

 picket lines and to pack animals when the ropes are 

 frozen ; and by the time we had loaded the two shiv 

 ering, wincing pack-ponies, and had bridled and 

 saddled our own riding-animals, our hands and feet 

 were numb and stiff with cold, though we were 

 really hampered by our warm clothing. My horse 



