Hunting at High Altitudes 



park, had passed near the tent and out into the 

 open prairie near the lake, where I had first seen 

 her. Her organs of scent must have told her that 

 people were in the tent. She had evidently come 

 into the camp seeking trouble, and at my first 

 shot realized whence it came, and did not look up 

 to see. 



From this camp, we continued to search for 

 Jones' Pass over the range. Captain Jones, when 

 he went through the pass which bears his name, 

 had as guides some Shoshoni Indians, and we felt 

 certain that this must be the best pass. At length 

 we determined that a certain pass must be Jones', 

 and arranged to move the next day. As we were 

 out of meat, I had killed a fat black-tail, brought 

 it near the trail we should probably follow, and 

 hung it up in a tree out of reach of wolves and 

 foxes. The next day when we passed near this 

 tree, my dog rushed ahead and forced some animal 

 to tree. Supposing it a black bear, I made a care- 

 ful approach in order to get a sure shot. I could 

 see the animal indistinctly, but before getting near 

 enough to shoot it, it had sprung to the ground, 

 drove off the dog, and away they went. On 

 examining the surroundings, I saw that the animal 

 had climbed the tree, cutting the leather strap by 

 which the deer hung, descended, and was at work 



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