Among the High Hills. 103 



of scanty vegetation were dull green. Sometimes I rode 

 my horse at the bottom of narrow washouts, between 

 straight walls of clay, but a few feet apart ; sometimes I 

 had to lead him as he scrambled up, down, and across the 

 sheer faces of the buttes. The glare from the bare clay 

 walls dazzled the eye ; the air was burning under the hot 

 August sun. I saw nothing living except the rattlesnakes, 

 of which there were very many. 



At last, in the midst of this devil's wilderness, I came 

 on a lovely valley. A spring trickled out of a cedar 

 canyon, and below this spring the narrow, deep ravine was 

 green with luscious grass and was smooth for some hun- 

 dred of yards. Here I unsaddled, and turned old Manitou 

 loose to drink and feed at his leisure. At the edge of the 

 dark cedar wood I cleared a spot for my bed, and drew a 

 few dead sticks for the fire. Then I lay down and watched 

 drowsily until the afternoon shadows filled the wild and 

 beautiful gorge in which I was camped. This happened 

 early, for the valley was very narrow and the hills on 

 either hand were steep and high. 



Springing to my feet, I climbed the nearest ridge, 

 and then made my way, by hard clambering, from peak 

 to peak and from crest to crest, sometimes crossing and 

 sometimes skirting the deep washouts and canyons. 

 When possible I avoided appearing on the sky line, and 

 I moved with the utmost caution, walking in a wide sweep 

 so as to hunt across and up wind. There was much 

 sheep sign, some of it fresh, though I saw none of the 

 animals themselves ; the square slots, with the indented 

 marks of the toe points wide apart, contrasting strongly 



