402 WALL STREET AND THE WILDS 



our "tummies tiff" with trout, bacon, and hoe 

 cake, we listened to the voice of the siren, who in 

 Mackenzie's gruff tones told of the wonderful 

 sport to be found on the Limestone Mesa, 

 the long-time hunting ground of the Ute In- 

 dians. 



"How long would it take us to get there?" I 

 asked. 



'We can be there to-morrow night. We are 

 almost at the foot of the mountain now." 



"Then we'll be on the Mesa to-morrow night," 

 said I, for it was needless to consult with Ned 

 when a hunting trip was in prospect. 



Early on the following day we stood at the foot 

 of a precipitous mountain which I wouldn't have 

 believed even a goat could climb. Mackenzie 

 and Tim were tightening the girths of the 

 broncos and repacking the burro's burden, while 

 Ned and I were regaling ourselves on raspber- 

 ries, with which the bushes about us were laden. 

 The date was September 19, 1886, and in view of 

 what happened a few days later, no incident of 

 that hunt has been more fixed in my mind than 



