IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 67 



towering walls and snowcapped peaks of the Big Horn moun- 

 tains. As they loomed up against the western horizon, 

 clothed in green and white, and enveloped in blue and 

 smoky haze, they presented a scene so grand, so beautiful, 

 so enchanting, that we felt as though we could stay there and 

 gaze upon them forever. We dismounted, took out the field- 

 glass and surveyed with wrapt interest and admiration the 

 beautiful scene. 



First there were the foothills, bold, rugged and pictur- 

 esque, through which tumbled many a clear mountain torrent, 

 and next were the great mountains, whose sides were covered 

 with alternate areas of evergreen timber and vast meadows. 

 The golden-hued gfass, which grew in these parks, waving in 

 the bright sun, looked like fields of ripe grain; and great 

 ledges of red sandstone or white limestone that cropped out 

 here and there, seemed to be the well-appointed farmhouses 

 and barns that one would naturally look for in this picture of 

 agricultural luxuriance. Farther up were the tall peaks, 

 towering far toward the heavens, piercing the clouds in their 

 upward strides, and already draped in spotless white. It 

 produces a strange sensation in the mind to stand here under 

 this burning sun, with vegetation green and flowers blooming 

 all around us, birds singing in every bush, and look upon 

 these vast fields of snow only fifty miles away. " In the 

 midst of summer prepare for winter" must be the motto of 

 any one who starts on a tramp to the mountains, and we are 

 glad when we remember that we have a full supply of heavy 

 clothing and blankets with us. 



Between ourselves and the mountains lies the broad, level 

 valley of the Little Big Horn, the silvery sheen of whose 

 crystal fluid, glimmered and glistened in the clear sunlight as 

 the river wound in and out among the groves of green trees 

 that skirted its banks. 



