Hunting at High Altitudes 



tent. We made one mistake. The camp should 

 at once have been moved up into a pine grove just 

 to the rear as a protection against the strong west 

 winds, to which we were exposed. This had not 

 then been learned. There was a spring of pure 

 water within fifty yards of the tents. 



My crutches reminded me of the accident of 

 Christmas, 1879, when my mare slipped on the 

 ice and fell, catching and crushing my right foot. 

 I had lively recollections of the difficulties and 

 discomforts that followed that occasion. 



By continued applications of ice and ice-cold 

 water, inflammation of the wound in my leg was 

 kept down and it continued to> improve; but it was 

 not until Sept. 22 that I made an effort to go back 

 to the old life. In the meantime a number of 

 things took place. As soon as we had finished 

 putting our camp in order, Corey one evening 

 went over to the elk carcass. He returned before 

 dark, reporting that he had killed an old grizzly 

 bear and two cubs. Then it was that I realized 

 my helpless condition, and chafed under the re- 

 straint. The next day he brought in the three 

 skins. Not long after came the whistling time of 

 the elk. One night a bull announced his presence 

 only a few hundred yards above camp. Corey 

 slipped out and killed it, reporting it good and 



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