and then heard no more till the night 

 gives place to the fresh sheet of dawn. 

 I have pored in the morning over the 

 big round footprints of a mountain lion 

 where he had sneaked in hours of dark- 

 ness, past my saddle pillowed head. I 

 have hunted much, and killed a little, 

 the wary, the beautiful, the fleet-footed 

 big game. I have driven a four-in-hand 

 over corduroy roads and ridden horse- 

 back over the pathless vasty wilds of 

 the continent's backbone. 



I have been nearly frozen eleven 

 thousand feet in air in blinding snow, 

 I have baked on the Dakota plains 

 with the thermometer at 116 degrees, 

 and I have met characters as diverse as 

 the climate. I know what it means to 

 be a miner and a cowboy, and have 

 risked my life when need be, but, best 

 of all, I have felt the charm of the 



