238 SADDLE AND CAMP 



down past the sulphur springs to cross Mad 

 River at the fording place which I found and 

 where I crossed, almost a hundred years, to a 

 day, later, worked up and westward over the 

 rugged Snake River Range, and were launched 

 upon that fearful journey of hardship and pri- 

 vation which cost several of the party their 

 lives. 



After fording the Hoback I found a newly- 

 made wagon road, leading down. This wound 

 around the summits of the foothills and from 

 the higher points offered an entrancing view 

 of the surroundings. Below wound the Snake, 

 a shimmering ribbon, and all about me rolled a 

 rugged, tumultuous mass of broken, snow-topped 

 mountains crowned by the three mighty Tetons 

 whose bald and jagged summits were the Pilot 

 Knobs of Hunt a century before. 



Descending thence into Jackson's Hole, once 

 the resort of horse thieves and bad men, now 

 the home of peaceful, thriving ranchmen, one 

 night was spent at Cheney, which from its ap- 

 pearance on the map I expected to find a settle- 

 ment, but which proved to be a single ranch, 

 and the following morning I rode into the vil- 

 lage of Jackson. 



