TWENTY YEARS IN THE ROCKIES. 109 



CHAPTER X. 



DESCRIPTIVE John Dunn a grand sunset I shoot a buck trout for supper 

 cougars a Bighorn sheep hunting elk two cougars shot and killed 

 golden eagles. 



We had landed on Middle Bowlder after two days' hard 

 riding. Our packs were badly shaken up from a stampede 

 that had been caused by an old she-bear and cubs. We were 

 located about two miles below what we named "Devil's 

 Slide," and our object was to get some saddles of venison 

 and elk, for both deer and elks were there abundant. 



It was autumn. The cottonwood trees were dismantled. 

 The quaking asps loomed tall and white. A few leaves of 

 gold and white still lingered. We were camped in the bend 

 of the creek in a dense forest of cottonwoods, whose swaying 

 branches kept up a continual warfare with the wind. The 

 rushing water rippled over sands of gold, carrying pebbles 

 of every hue. Here was the unmolested home of the moun- 

 tain trout (salmo purpuratus), and, as I washed my dishes 

 I could see hundreds of them of various sizes drifting idly 

 through the sparkling waves. The mountain jays were chat- 

 tering in the trees, and the magpies were alert for food if 

 it could be stolen at any point. 



John Dunn, my comrade, had put away the ponies and 

 was calling for water, for which I had been sent an hour 

 before. While our weary horses satisfied their hunger in the 

 great meadows, we made a supper of potatoes, salt pork and 

 coffee. 



