Memories of a Bear Hunter 



crossed. The plan was carried out, and when we 

 reached the main road, a load was lifted from my 

 spirits second only to the relief felt after safely 

 crossing the ice of the Yellowstone the day before. 



From this point to Bozeman it was only twelve 

 miles. The road was downhill, well broken 

 through the snow, and a bright moon was shining. 

 Our spirits had rebounded after the perplexities of 

 the crossing, and with a talk over incidents of our 

 past lives, and some amusing stories by Marshal 

 Botkin of Washington life and the nation's great 

 men, the time passed rapidly until 10 o'clock at 

 night, when we reached Bozeman. 



My friend, Dr. Monroe, examined my leg, told 

 me that he thought no bones were broken, and I 

 went to bed with a contented mind. For a month 

 thereafter, however, this crushed foot kept me on 

 crutches, yet the comforts of shelter from the 

 weather, and companionship of friends, caused me 

 almost to forget the pain and inconvenience. 



I have always felt under obligations to Marshal 

 Botkin for the nerve displayed that stormy night. 

 Had he faltered about the crossing, our arrival at 

 Bozeman and shelter would have been delayed a 

 day. Marshal Botkin was afterward elected 

 Lieutenant-Governor of the State of Montana, and 

 for some time was acting Governor. 



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