CHAPTER III 



BRITISH COLUMBIA AND SOME NOTES 

 ON GAME RESERVES 



BY the middle of October we were back at Jackson, 

 and made north for Vancouver as quickly as possible, 

 for it was getting late to shoot in British Columbia. 

 Over the Teton Pass, by the same road as that on 

 which poor Shorty met his death at the hands of 

 Trampas, we went, and so to Victor, a tiny hamlet 

 dumped down at the foot of the mountains. Thence 

 by rail to Salt Lake City, where we spent a couple 

 of days looking at the Tabernacle, and the un- 

 interesting abodes of the great Brigham's various 

 uninteresting-looking wives. From this place we 

 journeyed to Butte, Montana, surely the most 

 horrible spot in the world, and at the end of the 

 month reached Vancouver. Here let me give a 

 word of thanks to Mr. A. Bryan Williams, the 

 Provincial Game- Warden. His kindness knew no 

 bounds, and any success which we had on our trip 

 is largely due to him. 



Whilst taking out our licences (10) I mentioned 

 the names of our guides. Mr. Williams' face fell 

 to zero. To make a long story short, we found 

 that they bore a very bad reputation as hunters, 



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