An Interlude 109 



Sunday the eleventh. 



"Well, William," yawned the artist after lying awake for an 



hour, "I guess we might as well get up. There doesn't seem 



anything else we can do." Subsequently retailing this to Art 



at breakfast the Rabelaisian William put the emphasis on the 



we. 



Venison and bear steak for breakfast. Venison for dinner 

 the evening before strengthened the artist's conviction, expressed 

 to Jay, that he wouldn't be able to look a deer in the face for 

 the next seventeen years. Then followed repacking of grips, 

 changing of clothes, and various light employments in prepara- 

 tion for the expected train, which might or might not come at 

 eleven or two, or any other time God might please to send it. 



At dinner announcement was made of the train's arrival at 

 two o'clock, interpreted by the wise ones as meaning somewhere 

 about six if it didn't break down on the way across the divide. 

 At last came the train, at half past three. Then followed the 

 business of personally checking baggage, and negotiations for a 

 ticket for the artist to Ogden, the other two men going on to 

 Seattle via Idaho Falls and Spokane, and the trio got aboard. 

 And while the two older travelers, wise in past experience, peace- 

 fully continued the game that goes on forever, and the artist 

 by turns roved up and down the car and slept, the engine played 

 pussy-wants-a-corner with sundry freight cars and the one pas- 

 senger and baggage car around the freight yard for the next two 

 hours. 



The peculiar isolation of the handful of dwellers in Yellow- 

 stone, the tourist season closed, is well covered by the statement 

 that after to-day there are only two trains more, on the 1 8th and 

 25th of October, on which last date the station agent comes out. 

 After that there is no railroad communication with the outer world 

 until some time in May, when the snow leaves the mountain 

 passes sufficiently to permit traffic. The local general store 

 carries in its warehouse a six or seven months* stock of the stand- 

 ard necessities and sundries of the district for the winter. 



At nearly half past five the train made a start for Ash ton, 

 some sixty miles south, over the continental divide. At eight 

 o'clock this evening after a supper of canned pork and beans, 

 and cheese on crackers, washed down with strong liquors and 



