22 



Rod, Gun, and Palette in the High Rockies 



camp by Fred Reichenbach (Swiss, from 

 Berne, six years in this country) and Jay 

 Whitman, from Davis County, Missouri 

 — as he himself acknowledges, one of the 

 gentlemen who have to be shown — and 

 otherwise a self-possessed quiet man with 

 a happy smile and a sandy mustache. 

 On the way out to camp, the only 

 life observed was a gray squirrel, who, regardless of the weather, 

 seemed bent on making a busy best of things. 



There is in the camp a well bred, finely mannered liver and 

 white pointer dog. Jay by name, son of a famous prizewinner once 

 owned by Bill. With him are two black-and-tan fox hounds. 

 Trailer and Chambeau, far larger than their English brethren, 

 weighing eighty pounds each, owned by Fred. These are classed 

 by Bill as the finest of their kind within his memory. All three 

 dogs are sociable, but Jay has a gentle self-effacingness, though 

 of unquestioned spirit and courage, that makes him a very enjoy- 

 able companion. The hounds are obedient to a word, but at the 

 same time dignified and self respecting. They do not 

 fraternize with the pointer, but their politeness to him 

 and his gentlemanly acceptance of the situation 

 is an object lesson in deportment. Respecting 

 each other's different breeding as they do, 

 they are very good friends. 

 Sleet and wind contin- 

 ued throughout the after- 

 noon, but there was little 

 heed for weather in the 

 immediate business of un- 

 packing camp impedimenta, 

 unrolling blankets, sorting 

 out clothes, and making 

 beds. Our camp accommo- 

 dation consisted of a sleep- 

 ing tent, messtent, cook tent 

 and guide's tent. 



As we began to prepare 

 Trailer and Chambeau our respective couches in the 



