TWENTY YEARS IN THE ROCKIES. 179 



deer, and, as the camp was only about one hundred yards 

 below, we managed to take him there without help. 



It was the same deer that I had wounded in the park, 

 by breaking his leg low down. The holes we noticed among 

 the tracks were made by the broken bone sticking into the 

 ground as he bounded along. Six deer were killed that day. 

 The boys (excepting Len and myself) were satisfied with 

 the trip and the amount of game killed, and went back to the 

 Landing the next morning, but we mounted our ponies and 

 started for Boulder Creek, where we were sure to find 

 plenty of game. 



Night found us on a summit of a mountain, where we 

 laid out our route for the morrow and followed it when 

 morning dawned. While crossing a low divide, we saw 

 seven large bull elks coming along the ridge toward us. 

 We hastily dismounted^ guessed the distance at four hun- 

 dred yards and shot at a large elk, which drew up its back a 

 little, and the entire band started off at their utmost speed. 

 We followed in the same manner and found the bull lying 

 dead, not more than three hundred yards from where we 

 shot him, the ball having pierced his heart. We dressed him, 

 piled his head and hams upon a rock, and went on again. 

 As the sun was sinking to rest, we reached Middle Boulder 

 Creek and followed a narrow trail, making four short 

 angles, that led up to a dense growth of cottonwoods. 

 There was a narrow path into the grove, and we were both 

 surprised and pleased to find an old shack in the clearing, 

 secure from prying eyes. It was just the place where one 

 might live without being troubled by Indians, and no doubt 

 was chosen with that object in view. There was also a stable 

 adjoining the shack, large enough for six or eight ponies. 

 The place was deserted, and there were no traces to 

 lead us to suppose any human being had been there for a 



