280 SADDLE AND CAMP 



low, but once at the top I was treated to a mag- 

 nificent panoramic view of the valley I had 

 just left. 



Far beneath me the silver thread of Slate 

 Creek wound down to join the Gros Ventre. 

 Beyond the Gros Ventre rose Sheep Mountain 

 with other mountains and lofty ranges beyond, 

 in a mighty tumbled mass, some of them, like 

 Mt. Leidy, where I stood, partially covered 

 with fir and the summits of all of them white 

 with snow. 



On the opposite side of the ridge I dropped 

 down past Lake Leidy, a beautiful bit of water 

 romantically situated among the fir-clad peaks. 

 In the descent from Leidy Lake to Spread 

 Creek were the tracks of a large band of elk, 

 chiefly cows and calves, with unmistakable 

 signs that the animals had been driven. The 

 tracks were fresh— not above a few hours old. 

 That evening I was startled by the bugle call 

 of an elk. It surprised me, for this was late 

 in the season for bulls to be bugling. 



The weather was growing cold. Spread 

 Creek, where the water was not too swift, froze 

 hard that night, and the earth became like flint. 

 My course carried me down the creek for some 

 distance, over a low ridge, and thence across 

 the north branch of Spread Creek, which I 



