LIFE IN THE FAR WEST 287 



figured in these pages, we must yet tarry a little longer 

 to describe. 



During the past winter, a party of mountaineers, 

 flying from overpowering numbers of hostile Sioux, 

 found themselves, one stormy evening, in a wild and 

 dismal canon near the elevated mountain valley called 

 the " New Park." 



The rocky bed of a dry mountain torrent, whose 

 waters were now locked up at their spring-heads by icy 

 fetters, was the only road up which they could make 

 their difficult way ; for the rugged sides of the gorge 

 rose precipitously from the creek, scarcely affording a 

 foot-hold to even the active bighorn, which occasionally 

 looked down upon the travellers from the lofty summit. 

 Logs of pine, uprooted by the hurricanes which sweep 

 incessantly through the mountain defiles, and tossed 

 headlong from the surrounding ridges, continually 

 obstructed their way ; and huge rocks and boulders, 

 fallen from the heights and blocking up the bed of the 

 stream, added to the difficulty, and threatened them 

 every instant with destruction. 



Towards sundown they reached a point where the 

 cafion opened out into a little shelving glade or prairie, 

 a few hundred yards in extent, the entrance to which 

 was almost hidden by thicket of dwarf pine and cedar. 

 Here they determined to encamp for the night, in a 

 spot secure from Indians, and, as they imagined, untrod- 

 den by the foot of man. 



What, however, was their astonishment, on breaking 

 through the cedar-covered entrance, to perceive a soli- 



