Hunting at High Altitudes 



a close shot at the bear, but on pulling the trigger 

 found no cartridge in the rifle, and the bear escaped. 



It was a cool and sharp morning, and old Bones, 

 the horse I had been riding for ten days, was made 

 lively by the crisp air, and on my mounting, in a 

 shorter time than it takes to write it, he had com- 

 menced to pitch and eventually threw me a somer- 

 sault over his head. I landed on my back a very 

 hard fall, the effects of which I felt for several 

 days. This was the second fall he had given me, 

 and I determined on revenge. I decided that I 

 would never mount him again, and that I would 

 get rid of him on the earliest opportunity. He 

 had been bought as a harness horse in Helena, but 

 on the first hard pull he had balked and would go 

 neither forward nor backward. After worrying 

 with him for a day or so, it became necessary to 

 put my pet hunting mare Kate in his place in the 

 wagon. I had been riding old Bones ever since. A 

 man who was to travel with me through the Park 

 agreed to ride him. 



After this catastrophe, we proceeded through the 

 canon, but soon reached a point where, on account 

 of the sidling road over a projecting spur of the 

 mountain, it was necessary for the men to pack our 

 plunder over the spur, and then, by ropes, hold the 

 wagon from turning over. 



52 



