IO2 ADVENTURES OF DR. ALLEN. 



CHAPTER IX. 



How A MOUNTAIN LION MET HIS FATE First a bobcat, then an elk, then 

 the terror of the plains. 



One lovely fall morning when the leaves were yellow 

 on the cottonwood, the wild plums were brown, the red 

 leaves of the chokecherry bushes were falling, and bunches 

 of berries hung in great abundance, I started from camp 

 on horseback in search of adventure. The willow grouse 

 and pheasants were harvesting the delicious fruit, and as 

 we crossed the narrow valley they flew before us and set- 

 tled in the trees. From some points of view these would 

 have been enticing, but I was after larger game. My path 

 lay diagonally across the foothills of the region known as 

 Rotten Grass, a tributary of the Big Horn mountains, south 

 of Big Horn canyon. 



While ascending the foothills I noticed signs of bears 

 and of mountain lions. This rough region is well adapted 

 to the welfare of lions, which lie in wait for the game as 

 it comes to water. Along narrow trails, with very steep 

 ascents among the rocks,, I led my pony. Large boulders 

 were loosened by the hoofs of my horse and rolled down 

 into the green pines below. Our path led to a beautiful 

 park in the mountain terrace where the odor of bear was 

 quite strong. Billy, my pony, tried to locate the danger 

 and kept snorting all the while. Many holes had been 

 dug into the ground, and logs had been turned over and 



