Hunting at High Altitudes 



rifle. By the time the bear had reached the gulch 

 he stopped, to go no further. 



The excitement caused by this incident and my 

 enthusiasm on killing my first grizzly for I 

 claimed the bear dispelled at once all feelings of 

 hardship and fatigue. The bear was a grizzly of 

 about four hundred pounds weight, fat and with a 

 fine pelt. We had not time to skin him, nor could 

 the hide have been packed. After getting a few 

 steaks, a piece of skin from over the shoulder and 

 one of his forepaws, we continued our laborious 

 ascent of the mountain. Still excited by this inci- 

 dent, the work was now in the nature of a labor 

 of love. 



Passing over the summit and down a quarter of 

 a mile, through snow still a foot deep, there were 

 evident fresh pony tracks in the snow on the trail, 

 made by an animal that had passed on up the gulch 

 to our right. Jack was called up, and as we were 

 seriously discussing the situation, a most unearthly 

 sound proceeded from up the gulch, which caused 

 us to grasp our rifles and feel for cartridge belts. 

 In a short time that unearthly blast sounded forth 

 again, from the same direction, but this time end- 

 ing with a "he-haw, he-haw." The mystery was 

 dispelled; the voice was recognized. It was the 

 voice of the army mule. He had discovered by 



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