310 CRUISHSTGS IN THE CASCADES 



rift in a dark cloud. Their hearts, though encased 

 in blue flannel or water-proof canvas, are as light 

 as the air they breathe; their minds as pure and 

 clear as the mountain brooks from which they love 

 to drink; their whole natures as generous and liberal 

 as the boundless meadows upon which their herds 

 graze, and their hospitality only limited by the 

 supply of food and other comforts they have with 

 which to entertain a visitor. Strangers are always 

 welcome at their shacks, and no matter at what time 

 of day or night you arrive, you and y our horses 

 are promptly taken care of, you are invited to stay 

 and eat, to sleep if you will, and are promptly given to 

 understand that the best the ranch affords is at your 

 command. I have known many of these men inti- 

 mately, and have never known one who would not 

 cheerfully share his last ounc ^ of food, his last dol- 

 lar, or his only blanket with a needy stranger; or 

 who would not walk and allow an unfortunately 

 dismounted traveler to ride his horse half way to 

 camp, or the ranch, even though that might be a 

 hundred miles away. They invariably refuse all 

 remuneration for services or accommodations of such 

 nature, and if it be pressed upon them, the stranger is 

 liable to be told in language more expressive than 

 elegant they don't make their living by taking care 

 of tenderfeet. 



As a class, they are brimful and running over with 

 wit, merriment, and good humor. They are always 

 ready for any bit of innocent fun, but are not per- 

 petually spoiling for a fight, as has so often been 

 said of them. They are at peace with all men, and 

 would not be otherwise from choice. As a rule, if a 



