2i 8 The Wilderness Hunter 



let the water through like a sieve. On the top of 

 the first plateau, where black spruce groves were 

 strewn across the grassy surface, we saw a band of 

 elk, cows and calves, trotting off through the rain. 

 Then we plunged down into a deep valley, and, 

 crossing it, a hard climb took us to the top of a 

 great bare tableland, bleak and wind-swept. We 

 passed little alpine lakes, fringed with scattering 

 dwarf evergreens. Snow lay in drifts on the north 

 sides of the gullies ; a cutting wind blew the icy rain 

 in our faces. For two or three hours we traveled 

 toward the further edge of the tableland. In one 

 place a spike bull elk stood half a mile off, in the 

 open ; he traveled to and fro, watching us. 



As we neared the edge the storm lulled, and pale, 

 watery sunshine gleamed through the rifts in the 

 low-scudding clouds. At last our horses stood on 

 the brink of a bold cliff. Deep down beneath our 

 feet lay the wild and lonely valley of Two-Ocean 

 Pass, walled in on either hand by rugged mountain 

 chains, their flanks scarred and gashed by precipice 

 and chasm. Beyond, in a wilderness of jagged and 

 barren peaks, stretched the Shoshones. At the mid- 

 dle point of the pass, two streams welled down from 

 either side. At first each flowed in but one bed, but 

 soon divided into two; each of the twin branches 

 then joined the like branch of the brook opposite, and 

 swept one to the east and one to the west, on their 

 long journey to the two great oceans. They ran as 



