Hunting the Grisly. 303 



kindle the fire and make ready breakfast, and he was very 

 quarrelsome. Finally, during my absence from camp one 

 day, while not very far from Red Rock pass, he found my 

 whiskey flask, which I kept purely for emergencies, and 

 drank all the contents. When I came back he was quite 

 drunk. This was unbearable, and after some high words 

 I left him, and struck off homeward through the woods on 

 my own account. We had with us four pack and saddle 

 horses ; and of these I took a very intelligent and gentle 

 little bronco mare, which possessed the invaluable trait of 

 always staying near camp, even when not hobbled. I was 

 not hampered with much of an outfit, having only my 

 buffalo sleeping-bag, a fur coat, and my washing kit, with 

 a couple of spare pairs of socks and some handkerchiefs. 

 A frying-pan, some salt, flour, baking-powder, a small 

 chunk of salt pork, and a hatchet, made up a light pack, 

 which, with the bedding, I fastened across the stock sad- 

 dle by means of a rope and a spare packing cinch. My 

 cartridges and knife were in my belt ; my compass and 

 matches, as always, in my pocket. I walked, while the lit- 

 tle mare followed almost like a dog, often without my 

 having to hold the lariat which served as halter. 



The country was for the most part fairly open, as I 

 kept near the foot-hills where glades and little prairies 

 broke the pine forest. The trees were of small size. There 

 was no regular trail, but the course was easy to keep, and 

 I had no trouble of any kind save on the second day. 

 That afternoon I was following a stream which at last 

 "canyoned up," that is, sank to the bottom of a canyon- 

 like ravine impassable for a horse. I started up a side 



