304 The Wilderness Hunter. 



valley, intending to cross from its head coulies to those of 

 another valley which would lead in below the canyon. 



However, I got enmeshed in the tangle of winding 

 valleys at the foot of the steep mountains, and as dusk 

 was coming on I halted and camped in a little open spot 

 by the side of a small, noisy brook, with crystal water. 

 The place was carpeted with soft, wet, green moss, dotted 

 red with the kinnikinnic berries, and at its edge, under 

 the trees where the ground was dry, I threw down the 

 buffalo bed on the mat of sweet-smelling pine needles. 

 Making camp took but a moment. I opened the pack, 

 tossed the bedding on a smooth spot, knee-haltered the 

 little mare, dragged up a few dry logs, and then strolled 

 off, rifle on shoulder, through the frosty gloaming, to see 

 if I could pick up a grouse for supper. 



For half a mile I walked quickly and silently over the 

 pine needles, across a succession of slight ridges separated 

 by narrow, shallow valleys. The forest here was com- 

 posed of lodge-pole pines, which on the ridges grew close 

 together, with tall slender trunks, while in the valleys the 

 growth was more open. Though the sun was behind the 

 mountains there was yet plenty of light by which to shoot, 

 but it was fading rapidly. 



At last, as I was thinking of turning towards camp, I 

 stole up to the crest of one of the ridges, and looked over 

 into the valley some sixty yards off. Immediately I caught 

 the loom of some large, dark object ; and another glance 

 showed me a big grisly walking slowly off with his head 

 down. He was quartering to me, and I fired into his 

 flank, the bullet, as I afterwards found, ranging forward 



