184 IN THE OLD WEST 



feet. With him were Killbuck, Meek, Marcelline, 

 and three others ; and the leader of the party was 

 Bill Williams, that old "hard case" who had 

 spent forty years and more in the mountains, un- 

 til he had become as tough as the parfleche soles 

 of his moccasins. They were all good men and 

 true, expert hunters, and well-trained mountain- 

 eers. After having trapped all the streams they 

 were acquainted with, it was determined to strike 

 into the mountains, at a point where old Williams 

 affirmed, from the run of the hills, there must be 

 plenty of water, although not one of the party 

 had before explored the country, or knew any- 

 thing of its nature, or of the likelihood of its af- 

 fording game for themselves or pasture for their 

 animals. However, they packed their peltry, and 

 put out for the land in view a lofty peak, dimly 

 seen above the more regular summit of the chain, 

 being their landmark. 



For the first day or two their route lay between 

 two ridges of mountains, and by following the 

 little valley which skirted a creek, they kept on 

 level ground, and saved their animals considerable 

 labor and fatigue. Williams always rode ahead, 

 his body bent over his saddle-horn, across which 

 rested a long heavy rifle, his keen gray eyes peer- 

 ing from under the slouched brim of a flexible 

 felt-hat, black and shining with grease. His 

 buckskin hunting-shirt, bedaubed until it had the 

 appearance of polished leather, hung in folds over 



