88 HUNTING THE GRISLY. . . 



of these I took a very intelligent and gentle 

 little bronco mare, which possessed the in- 

 valuable trait of always staying near camp, 

 even when not hobbled. I was not hampered 

 with much of an outfit, having only my buffalo 

 sleeping-bag, a fur coat, and my washing kit, 

 with a couple of spare pairs of socks and 

 some handkerchiefs. A frying-pan, some salt, 

 flour, baking-powder, a small chunk of salt 

 pork, and a hatchet, made up a light pack, 

 which, with the bedding, I fastened across the 

 stock saddle by means of a rope and a spare 

 packing cinch. My cartridges and knife were 

 in my belt ; my compass and matches, as al- 

 ways, in my pocket. I walked, while the little 

 mare followed almost like a dog, often without 

 my having to hold the lariat which served as 

 halter. 



The country was for the most part fairly 

 open, as I kept near the foot-hills where 

 glades and little prairies broke the pine 

 forest. The trees were of small size. There 

 was no regular trail, but the course was easy 

 to keep, and I had no trouble of any kind 

 save on the second day. That afternoon I 

 was following a stream which at last " can- 

 yoned up," that is, sank to the bottom of a 

 canyon-like ravine impassable for a horse. I 

 started up a side 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 moun- 

 tains, and as dusk was coming on I halted 



