298 Hunting Trips on the Prairie 



two others, besides myself, in the party; one of 

 them, the teamster, a weather-beaten old plainsman, 

 who possessed a most extraordinary stock of mis 

 cellaneous misinformation upon every conceivable 

 subject, and the other my ranch foreman, Merri- 

 field. None of us had ever been within two hun 

 dred miles of the Bighorn range before; so that 

 our hunting trip had the added zest of being also 

 an exploring expedition. 



Each of us rode one pony, and the packs were 

 carried on four others. We were not burdened by 

 much baggage. Having no tent we took the can 

 vas wagon sheet instead; our bedding, plenty of 

 spare cartridges, some flour, bacon, coffee, sugar, 

 and salt, and a few very primitive cooking utensils, 

 completed the outfit. 



The Bighorn range is a chain of bare, rocky 

 peaks stretching lengthwise along the middle of a 

 table-land which is about thirty miles wide. At its 

 edges this table-land falls sheer off into the rolling 

 plains country. From the rocky peaks flow rapid 

 brooks of clear, icy water, which take their way 

 through deep gorges that they have channeled out 

 in the surface of the plateau; a few miles from the 

 heads of the streams these gorges become regular 

 canyons, with sides so steep as to be almost per 

 pendicular; in traveling, therefore, the trail has to 

 keep well up toward timber line, as lower down 

 horses find it difficult or impossible to get across 

 the valleys. In strong contrast to the treeless cattle 

 plains extending to its foot, the sides of the table- 



