TWENTY YEARS IN THE ROCKIES. 2OI 



of a tallow candle were extinguished by a blast of wind 

 through the open door. "Git a seat, and I'll strike a light," 

 called out my host, in what seemed to be a familiar voice, 

 and, in fact, I felt sure that I had heard it before. The can- 

 dle being relighted, he turned to inspect his guest, and im- 

 mediately burst out with : 



"Holy angels, Allen ! Why, old boy ! Well, I never I" 



''Archie Mclnerty !" I replied. "The only time we ever 

 niet, we were both of us on the first grand jury that ever 

 sat in Miles City, and here we meet again." 



"Sit down ! sit down !" he said, in a commanding tone 

 of voice. "I'll git some supper, and then we'll talk over old 

 times." 



In a short time he had prepared a repast that I can taste 

 even yet in my imagination, so delicious was it to my palate 

 after that hard day's work. We ate and talked for more than 

 two hours, relating our past experiences. Archie is an old- 

 timer on the Yellowstone, has passed through many places, 

 and is truly a genuine hunter. 



Next morning I bade him adieu, and started out on what 

 proved to be the most disagreeable day of my journey. An 

 east wind bore heavily against me, and when night came 

 I was almost exhausted. When I attempted to rise from 

 my bed next morning, I thought some one must be holding 

 me down ; but, on pushing back the canvass, I saw that I was 

 buried beneath the snow, which had fallen to the depth of 

 six inches. 



The wind, although somewhat moderated, impeded my 

 progress as much as it had the day previous. I pulled hard 

 all day, and was surprised to find that I had made no more 

 than fifteen miles. My boat was weakening, for it had been 

 almost torn to pieces against the rocks in Buffalo Rapids, 

 and several times I feared she would go no farther. The 



