MOUNTAIN GAME. 131 



the result ; for the second plunge of the 

 horses brought them up to their bellies in the 

 morass, where they stuck. It was freezing 

 cold, with a bitter wind blowing, and the bog 

 holes were skimmed with ice ; so that we 

 passed a thoroughly wretched two hours while 

 freeing the horses and unloading the wagon. 

 However, we eventually got across ; my com- 

 panion preserving an absolutely unruffled 

 temper throughout, perseveringly whistling 

 the " Arkansas Traveller." At one period, 

 when we were up to our waists in the icy 

 mud, it began to sleet and hail, and I mut- 

 tered that I would " rather it did n't storm " ; 

 whereat he stopped whistling for a moment 

 to make the laconic rejoinder, "We 're not 

 having our rathers this trip." 



At nightfall we camped among the willow 

 bushes by a little brook. For firewood we had 

 only dead willow sticks ; they made a hot 

 blaze which soon died out ; and as the cold 

 grew intense, we rolled up in our blankets as 

 soon as we had eaten our supper. The cli- 

 mate of the Big Hole Basin is alpine ; that 

 night, though it was the 2oth of August, the 

 thermometer sank to 10 F. 



Early next morning we struck camp, shiv- 

 ering with cold as we threw the stiff, frozen 

 harness on the horses. We soon got among 

 the foot-hills, where the forest was open and 

 broken by large glades, forming what is called 

 a park country. The higher we went the 

 smaller grew the glades and the denser the 

 woodland ; and it began to be very difficult 

 to get the wagon forward. In many places 

 one man had to go ahead to pick out the way 



