Expedition to the Bad Lands 85 



was covered with thick bunches of grass, and 

 often had been rooted up for acres by grizzlies 

 in search of wild artichokes, a sweet morsel they 

 love. We often saw herds of deer and elk and 

 antelope. 



Part of the time our route lay among the foothills 

 of the Judith River Mountains to the south of us; 

 and when we emerged again on to the open plain, we 

 found ourselves in a great amphitheater, a hundred 

 miles across. To the west the towering ranges of 

 the Rockies rose in silent grandeur, their sides 

 scarred deeply with canyons, in whose recesses the 

 white snow gleamed and sparkled in the morning 

 light. To the south, east, and north, the Judith 

 River Mountains, the Little Rockies, Medicine Bow, 

 Bearpaw, and the Sweet Grass Mountains on the 

 border line of Assiniboia made up the circle. A 

 glorious scene! And there was exhilaration too in 

 the thought that ours was the first wagon to roll 

 through these rich solitudes, given up for ages to 

 the red hunter and his game. These hills were soon 

 to re-echo with the shriek of the locomotive, and 

 this rich soil to nourish a thousand souls, but in the 

 days I am recalling, we did not meet a single human 

 being in all the forty miles of our journey. 



That night, after another hard day, we halted at 

 the head of a short and very steep ravine ending in 

 an open valley between two ridges, whose lofty 



