CHAPTER XVIII 



AN INDIAN VILLAGE 



WE followed the glacial river bed for 

 thirty-three miles and then overtook a 

 four-horse wagon of ours which had gone on 

 ahead of us. It was loaded with our spare 

 dunnage and the horns, antlers, scalps, and 

 hides that we had secured. As I had elected 

 to walk most of the distance to White Elorse, 

 Billie was hitched to the wagon, with Beck, 

 the lady mule, as companion, and two of our 

 saddle horses as leaders. 



It rained the night that we came up with 

 our outfit, and that was only the second rain 

 of the whole trip. Two snow storms and two 

 gentle rains during the entire sixty-nine days 

 in the hunting field — no one could ask for bet- 

 ter weather. 



Our next day's trek brought us to an Indian 

 village, where most of the inhabitants were 

 away on a hunting trip. One old squaw with 

 tousled hair and grimy face showing the rav- 

 ages of disease — a veritable old hag — ac- 



