THE CALL OF THE WILD 



ment; each succeeding height scaled broadens the hori- 

 zon and brings within the range of vision greater possi- 

 bilities and the unattainable of yesterday becomes the 

 indispensable of to-morrow. 



In 1872 I crossed the Great Plains, plains which 

 my school-boy geography characterized as^TThe Great 

 American Desert," but which has since grown into 

 important sovereign states, teeming with population 

 and industry. My crossing was not like the " '49-ers," 

 beset with many hardships and exposed to danger from 

 hostile Indians, but whose motto, "Pike's Peak or bust," 

 carried them safely through. I was made most comfort- 

 able in a Pullman car on the Union Pacific Railway. I 

 occupied a compartment adjoining one occupied by 

 George Francis Train. We saw from the train gray 

 wolf, deer, antelope, elk, and many herds of buffalo, 

 prairie-dogs, and jack-rabbits galore. 



One thing that interested me greatly was a party of 

 New York sportsmen who were going on a buffalo hunt 

 with Colonel Cody as guide, known to the world now as 

 Buffalo Bill. They met Colonel Cody at Lone Tree 

 Station, left the train there and started upon their hunt, 

 the object of my keenest envy and admiration. 



The time I spent in this far region and at that time / 

 almost untenanted range of mountain and plain brought 

 me a fair measure of success as a sportsman, and intensi- 

 fied my love for plain and mountain, forest and stream. 



"I learned to 'know the world's white roof-tree/ and to- 



'know the windy rift, 



Where the baffling mountain eddies chop and change/ 

 And to 'know the long day's patience, belly down, on 



frozen drift, 



While the head of heads is feeding out of range." 3 



3 



