68 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 



But the objects forming this lovely picture are yet far 

 away, and many a weary mile must be ridden, many a tortu- 

 ous coulee or gulch must be threaded, and many a steep hill 

 climbed ere we shall set foot on the happy hunting ground 

 that now unfolds itself so invitingly before us. So Jack and 

 Huffman take a pull at the ropes to tighten up the loads on 

 our pack mules and we spring into our saddles and ride away 

 at a brisk trot, down the long slope on the western side of 

 the divide. 



There are some fine agricultural lands on this slope. The 

 soil is light but rich, the ground just rolling enough to carry 

 off the water readily, and in nearly every one of the many 

 coulees with which it is drained there runs a stream of clear, 

 cold, pure spring water. By means of these the tablelands 

 could easily be irrigated, if necessary, and there is a good 

 supply of timber along the small streams for fuel. Bunch or 

 buffalo grass stands thick and heavy here, affording the best 

 of grazing. We crossed Owl creek near its head. Its waters 

 are very clear and cold and it doubtless bears trout, though 

 we didn't stop to investigate the matter. 



As we were riding down a hill toward one of the coulees, 

 three mule deer jumped out of the brush, dashed over the 

 next ridge and were out of sight before we could get a shot 

 at them. We put spurs to our animals and galloped to the 

 top of the ridge, but they were nowhere to be seen. We 

 knew, though, that they must have hidden in the next 

 coulee, as they had not had time to go farther without our 

 seeing them when we reached the top of the ridge, so we 

 separated, Jack riding to the head of the coulee, Huffman 

 toward the mouth, and each dismounted to wait for the game 

 to come out. I rode down to the coulee and followed it up 

 to where Jack was without jumping any game ; then we both 

 rode down on opposite sides and when within a short dis- 



