TWENTY YEARS IN THE ROCKIES. 



The night thickened into inky darkness, the wind howl- 

 ed, the trees were torn almost asunder, while the rushing 

 water of the creek mingled its roar with the blast. But we 

 slept through it all, to be awakened early by the alarmed 

 chirping of some bird,, as though it were at war with all its 

 kind. After breakfast John said : 



"I am going after those elks. What say you?" 



"Well, John, I have a bait on the mountain, and will go 

 there if you are willing." 



Groping my way in the dark, I kept on until I had 

 gained the beautiful park. I could hear game breaking 

 through the underbrush, but could see nothing. I found the 

 trail through the belt of green timber, and could see the 

 blazes as they stood out ghost-like, seeming much larger 

 than they really were. 



Passing through the timber I turned in a opposite 

 direction from that I had taken the previous day, found a 

 break in the rimrock and made a circuit, keeping the old, 

 dead pine as a guide. I had marked my ground well the 

 day before, and knew just where to come upon my pets if 

 they were at breakfast. 



I examined the wind and found it blowing at right 

 angles to my route. I took up a handful of dry grass and 

 threw it as high as I could. The direction of any wind that 

 may be stirring can readily be ascertained in this way. 



Daylight had come. I rounded the tree with the dead 

 top, and, with bridle reins over my arm, had gained a good 

 footing on the soft rock. There was my sheep's head, the 

 body, and even the horns, almost torn to shreds, and the 

 great male cougar with his sides distended to their fullest 

 extent, was standing over the carcass, snarling fiendishly 

 at his mate. 



She had backed up under a ledge, and was trying to 



