TWENTY YEARS IN THE ROCKIES. 247 



CHAPTER XXV. 



GOOD SPORT IN PATOHAR BASIN. 



The month of September, 1882, was of unusual beauty 

 and charm to the hunter in the region of the Yellowstone 

 River. Foliage of gorgeous reds and golds and browns was 

 scattered over the thousand hills. Myriads of grouse roamed 

 about, feasting on the delicious harvest of berries. The jack 

 snipe busily plied his long bill in the marsh, searching for 

 insects, and the jay and red squirrel battled vociferously for 

 pine nuts. 



A jollier set of sportsmen then we never graced a camp- 

 fire. The party consisted of Mr. Shields, of 'The American 

 Field," of Chicago ; Mr. R. J. Sawyer, of Menominee, Michi- 

 gan, who is as keen a sportsman as ever shouldered a rifle ; 

 Mr. Wise, of Michigan, who flourished a 45-75 Winchester, 

 and, from his use of this weapon, convinced us he "had been 

 there before ;" Mr. Huffman, a photographer from Miles 

 City ; Uncle Ed. Forest, an old-timer, who had played "hide- 

 and-seek" with the Sioux nation for the last thirty years ; my 

 son Willie, and myself. 



The mountains were alive with animals, and each mem- 

 ber of our party was eager to try his skill with the rifle. We 

 pressed along the beautiful valley of Clark's Fork, and 

 white-tailed deer were seen in the distance, skirting the banks 

 of the river. As our caravan moved along, a coyote broke 

 cover from a clump of sagebrush, and, with his tail waving 



