The Wapiti 187 



few mouthfuls of bread. While it was still light 

 we heard the querulous bleat of the conies, from 

 among the slide rocks at the foot of the mountain; 

 and the chipmunks and chickarees scolded at us. 

 As dark came on, and we sat silently gazing into 

 the flickering blaze, the owls began muttering and 

 hooting. 



Clearing the ground of stones and sticks, we lay 

 down beside the fire, pulled our soft felt hats over our 

 ears, buttoned our jackets, and went to sleep. Of 

 course our slumbers were fitful and broken, for 

 every hour or two the fire got low and had to be 

 replenished. We wakened shivering out of each 

 spell of restless sleep to find the logs smouldering; 

 we were alternately scorched and frozen. ; 



As the first faint streak of dawn appeared in the 

 dark sky my companion touched me lightly on the 

 arm. The fire was nearly out; we felt numbed by 

 the chill air. At once we sprang up, stretched our 

 arms, shook ourselves, examined our rifles, swal- 

 lowed a mouthful or two of bread, and walked off 

 through the gloomy forest. 



At first we could scarcely see our way, but it grew 

 rapidly lighter. The gray mist rose and wavered 

 over the pools and wet places; the morning voices 

 of the wilderness began to break the death-like still- 

 ness. After we had walked a couple of miles the 

 mountain tops on our right hand reddened in the 

 sun rays. 



