An Elk- Hunt at Two-Ocean Pass. 199 



stumps for the fire, cut evergreen boughs for our beds, 

 watered the horses, tethered them to improvised picket- 

 pins in a grassy glade, and then set about getting supper 

 ready. The wind had gone down, and snow was falling 

 thick in large, soft flakes ; we were evidently at the be- 

 ginning of a heavy snowstorm. All night we slept soundly 

 in our snug tent. When we arose at dawn there was a 

 foot and a half of snow on the ground, and the flakes were 

 falling as fast as ever. There is no more tedious work than 

 striking camp in bad weather ; and it was over two hours 

 from the time we rose to the time we started. It is sheer 

 misery to untangle picket-lines and to pack animals when 

 the ropes are frozen ; and by the time we had loaded 

 the two shivering, wincing pack-ponies, and had bridled 

 and saddled our own riding-animals, our hands and feet 

 were numb and stiff with cold, though we were really 

 hampered by our warm clothing. My horse was a wild, 

 nervous roan, and as I swung carelessly into the saddle, 

 he suddenly began to buck before I got my right leg over, 

 and threw me off. My thumb was put out of joint. I 

 pulled it in again, and speedily caught my horse in the 

 dead timber. Then I treated him as what the cowboys 

 call a " mean horse," and mounted him carefully, so as not 

 to let him either buck or go over backward. However, 

 his preliminary success had inspirited him, and a dozen 

 times that day he began to buck, usually choosing a down 

 grade, where the snow was deep, and there was much 

 fallen timber. 



All day long we pushed steadily through the cold, 

 blinding snowstorm. Neither squirrels nor rabbits were 



