TWENTY YEARS IN THE ROCKIES. 57 



Billy had measured off many miles when we came to a 

 plum thicket, heavily loaded with red fruit. Out of this shot 

 a bunch of white-tail deer and we gave chase. I checked our 

 speed when we came to a steep gulch and sprang to the 

 ground. As the deer went up the opposite side, I selected 

 a young buck and fired, breaking his back. I dressed him, 

 put him behind my saddle, and started on. Shortly after 

 a large band of buffaloes (bison Americanus) were seen 

 crossing some low foothills, coming toward me on the run. 

 I suspected that Indians might be at their old trick to get 

 our party after buffaloes, then swoop down on us and seize 

 our stock, so I started for the train. I had not gone far 

 when I saw the buffaloes pause to drink, after which they 

 returned whence they had come. This relieved my mind, 

 and I started to explore some large beaver (castor Canaden- 

 sis) dams which I had seen from a foothill nestling among 

 a grove of small cottonwood trees. 



On nearing the valley, I crossed a trail forty feet wide. 

 At first sight it looked like a well-traveled road,, but, on clos- 

 er scrutiny, it proved to be a beaver trail worn perfectly 

 smooth. I dismounted, took off both deer and saddle, and 

 picketed my horse in a secluded nook where he could get 

 grass and water. Having made a careful observation of the 

 surroundings, I found myself in one of the most extensive 

 beaver colonies that I had ever seen. 



The stream at this point was a series of little lakes, and, 

 about one hundred yards below, I could hear the triphammer 

 and piledriver thumping away as each beaver's tail came 

 down on the new construction. I was soon near the dam, 

 but could get no satisfactory point of observation. A few 

 yards ahead of me stood a boxelder tree, and I began to 

 crawl toward this as carefully as if I were stalking a band 

 of deer. The bushes and willows covered my approach, 



