310 Hunting Trips on the Prairie 



ponds. By degrees .these filled up, and the whole 

 valley became a broad marshy meadow, through 

 which the brook wound between rows of willows 

 and alders. These beaver meadows are very com- 

 mon; but are not usually of such large size. 

 Around this camp there was very little game; but 

 we got a fine mess of spotted trout by taking a long 

 and most toilsome walk up to a little lake lying 

 very near timber line. Our rods and lines were 

 most primitive, consisting of two clumsy dead 

 cedars (the only trees within reach), about six feet 

 of string tied to one and a piece of catgut to the 

 other, with preposterous hooks; yet the trout were 

 so ravenous that we caught them at the rate of 

 about one a minute; and they formed another wel- 

 come change in our camp fare. This lake lay in 

 a valley whose sides were so steep and bowlder- 

 covered as to need hard climbing to get into and 

 out of it. Every day in the cold, clear weather we 

 tramped miles and miles through the woods and 

 mountains, which, after a snowstorm, took on a 

 really wintry look ; while in the moonlight the snow- 

 laden forests shone and sparkled like crystal. The 

 dweller in cities has but a faint idea of the way we 

 ate and slept. 



One day Merrifield and I went out together and 

 had a rather exciting chase after some bull elk. 

 The previous evening, toward sunset, I had seen 

 three bulls trotting off across an open glade toward 

 a great stretch of forest and broken ground, up near 

 the foot of the rocky peaks. Next morning early 



