AN ELK-HUNT A T TWO-OCEAN PASS. 221 



strong to be worth taking, for it was just the 

 height of the rut. 



This was the end of my hunt ; and a day 

 later Hofer and I, with two pack-ponies, made 

 a rapid push for the Upper Geyser Basin. 

 We travelled fast. The first day was gray 

 and overcast, a cold wind blowing strong in 

 our faces. Toward evening we came on a 

 bull elk in a willow thicket ; he was on his 

 knees in a hollow, thrashing and beating the 

 willows with his antlers. At dusk we halted 

 and went into camp, by some small pools on the 

 summit of the pass north of Red Mountain. 

 The elk were calling all around us. We 

 pitched our cozy tent, dragged great stumps 

 for the fire, cut evergreen boughs for our 

 beds, watered the horses, tethered them to 

 improvised picket-pins in a grassy glade, and 

 then set about getting supper ready. The 

 wind had gone down, and snow was falling 

 thick in large, soft flakes ; we were evidently 

 at the beginning of a heavy snowstorm. All 

 night we slept soundly in our snug tent. 

 When we arose at dawn there was a foot and 

 a half of snow on the ground, and the flakes 

 were falling as fast as ever. There is no 

 more tedious work than striking camp in bad 

 weather ; and it was over two hours from the 

 time we rose to the time we started. It is 

 sheer misery to untangle picket-lines and to 

 pack animals when the ropes are frozen ; and 

 by the time we had loaded the two shivering, 

 wincing pack-ponies, and had bridled and 

 saddled our own riding-animals, our hands 

 and feet were numb and stiff with cold, though 

 we were really hampered by our warm cloth- 



