102 The Wilderness Hunter. 



one of the men, driving to some good hunting ground and 

 spending a night or two ; usually returning with two or 

 three prong-bucks, and once with an elk but this was 

 later in the fall. Not infrequently I went away by myself 

 on horseback for a couple of days, when all the men were 

 on the round-up, and when I wished to hunt thoroughly 

 some country quite a distance from the ranch. I made 

 one such hunt in late August, because I happened to hear 

 that a small bunch of mountain sheep were haunting a 

 tract of very broken ground, with high hills, about fifteen 

 miles away. 



I left the ranch early in the morning, riding my favorite 

 hunting horse, old Manitou. The blanket and oilskin 

 slicker were rolled and strapped behind the saddle ; for 

 provisions I carried salt, a small bag of hard tack, and a 

 little tea and sugar, with a metal cup in which to boil my 

 water. The rifle and a score of cartridges in my woven 

 belt completed my outfit. On my journey I shot two 

 prairie chickens from a covey in the bottom of a brush 

 coulie. 



I rode more than six hours before reaching a good spot 

 to camp. At first my route lay across grassy plateaus, 

 and along smooth, wooded coulies ; but after a few miles 

 the ground became very rugged and difficult. At last I 

 got into the heart of the Bad Lands proper, where the 

 hard, wrinkled earth was torn into shapes as sullen and 

 grotesque as those of dreamland. The hills rose high, 

 their barren flanks carved and channelled, their tops mere 

 needles and knife crests. Bands of black, red, and purple 

 varied the gray and yellow-brown of their sides ; the tuiti 



