vi PREFACE 



position was unendurable nerve torture. To-night, how- 

 ever, with the roar of the mountain torrents, the whistle 

 of the wind on the passes, and the tinkle of the horse- 

 bell in my ears, I begin the writing of these pages as 

 cheerfully as if I never had known an official care. I 

 am disposed to tell of the wonders of that mountain land, 

 where we found health and vigor while climbing after 

 grand game. We feel like saying to the tired business 

 man, the overworked professional man, and the sleepless 

 newspaper man, go, thou, and do likewise 1 



This is merely a story of recreations with big game, 

 with a few notes on nature. Next to the necessity of a 

 strenuous trip into mountain wilds, my chief object was 

 to get into the home of the mountain goat, and learn 

 at first hand something of the strange personality of that 

 remarkable animal. The most valuable result of the 

 trip, however, is Mr. Phillips's wonderful photographs 

 of a live mountain goat, secured at risks to life and limb 

 that were really unjustifiable. 



Until our mountain diversion was half over, I had 

 not realized that so much of living interest in nature, 

 of good luck in hunting, of rare success in photography, 

 and unalloyed delight in camp life could be packed into 

 the limits of one vacation hunting trip; but that expe- 

 rience established a new record. At first I could not 

 understand how Mr. Phillips could find interest in going 

 to the same region for five trips in succession; but now 

 I know. It is the mystic Spell of the Mountains! 



We dread the day of the ranch, the road, the railway, 

 and the coal-mine, anywhere near the Elk and the Bull 



