32 HUSTINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 



we found trails, bk>od and hair, and smelt the sulphurous 

 fumes of twenty-four-hour-old profanity, but there were no 

 elk in that neck of woods. And so we had to carry our 

 several belts full of cartridges, and our several loads of dis- 

 appointments, which were much heavier, back to camp. The 

 next day, Saturday, the i6th, we all returned and hunted the 

 same section of country, but still the elk had not returned 

 in any considerable numbers. Sawyer, Allen and Mike saw 

 three, and Sawyer got one shot, but missed. 



We now began to get desperate. It was beginning to be 

 a case of woodchuck with us, for we were nearly out of meat 

 again. True, we had killed a good deal of meat, but when 

 six able-bodied men and a boy sit down to eat in that country, 

 meat vanishes before them like dry grass before a prairie fire. 

 We determined to make a desperate effort the next day. 

 When we crawled out of our tent the next morning the 

 heavens looked gloomy. The sky was hidden by a dense, dark 

 mist, and heavy fog clouds were floating ominously about the 

 mountain-sides. Everything we touched felt damp excepting 

 the whisky-bottle, and that was dry enough (inside) for a 

 matchbox. Our ardor was somewhat dampened by this 

 outer dampness and absence of inner dampness, but we were 

 not to be delayed by such trifles. 



We started for the canyon where I had seen so many 

 good surface indications on Friday. But Huffman got stuck 

 on the scenery the fog clouds floating around the mountain 

 tops, and returned to camp to make some views. 



The rest of the party went up the trail about two miles 

 and separated; three of us went directly up the mountain 

 into the canyon, the other three ascended by another trail 

 farther to the south. When Forest, Sawyer and I got into 

 the canyon we separated, Sawyer going up near the south 

 wall, I near the north, and Forest through the center. He 



