HUNTING AND FISHING GROUNDS AND PLEASURE RESORTS. 
29° 
; 
Coming down through this forest is the 
north fork of the river, and really its 
main branch. Judging from appear- 
ances, it should afford excellent sport for 
twenty miles further up. 
, All this wooded country abounds with 
bear and elk, and on the mountain slopes 
above the lake, to the eastward, near 
the timber line, are great numbers of 
mountain sheep and mule deer. The 
streams have plenty of beaver, mink, and 
marten along them everywhere. 
In the Summer of 1877, an intimate 
friend and myself went to Grand River 
about the middle of July, and made 
headquarters at Hot Sulphur Springs. 
We fished up the river, down the river, 
and in all the neighboring streams. 
Mounting our horses in the morning, we 
would ride to the locality determined 
upen, picket them in the rich grass, one 
of us go down and the other up the 
stream, putting in three or four hours, 
and always returning with well filled 
baskets. Over but very little water did 
we fish a second time. The last week of 
our intended stay, we decided upon some- 
thing more of an adventure. We 
heard of a newly-discovered lake away 
off in the southwestern rim of the park, 
called Black Lake, but could not obtain 
any definite directions how to find it, 
other than from the description of cross- 
ing the creek that ran from it to Blue 
River, so we packed our blankets, coffee- 
pot, frying pan, and some provisions on 
an extra pony, and set out to find the 
new paradise. Three young men, orlarge 
boys—two of them from Denver and one 
from Tennessee—who were vagabondiz- 
ing in the mountains for a couple of 
months’ cavalcade; also a young man 
who belonged at the Springs, so that we 
numbered six horsemen, and had two 
extra animals for the impedimenta. We 
, 
struck across the hills southwest, crossed 
Williams River eight or ten miles above 
its mouth, and turned up its wide valley 
between the enclosing mountain spurs. 
It is a delightful region of rolling grassy 
hills, interspersed with groves and belts 
of timber. Hundreds of antelopes were 
grazing in groups of from five to fifty, 
but they were wary and wild. Although 
the boys did considerable firing at long 
range, they got no meat, and the march 
we had laid out for the day did not ad- 
mit of wasting time for a systematic hunt. 
At the head of the valley we turned to 
the right and passed over a high moun- 
tain ridge. At length we reached the 
summit, and traversed an open forest of 
living timber with most beautiful inter- 
vals of luxuriant meadows, with grass 
and towering plants higher than our 
horses’ backs, and springs of delicious, 
sparkling, icy water. It was a most 
lovely region, and rich repayment for all 
our struggles and hardships. For the 
descent we found and old trail plain and 
good, and just as twilight was falling we 
reached Blue River, and camped on the 
green sward ina grove of quaking aspens. 
We had no tent, and after a steaming 
supper, to which we did ample justice, 
spread our blankets in the open air, as is 
the universal custom with mountaineers. 
Blue River is a rapid, boisterous 
stream that beads in the main range 
near Mount Lincoln, and flows north 
about seventy miles to its junction with 
the Grand in the western edge of Middle 
Park. From source to mouth, it falls 
about seven thousand feet. Trout abound 
in all its tributaries, but none in the main 
stream. The next morning we concluded 
from the “lay of the country” that we 
had struck the river too high up, so we 
turned down its western shore along a 
new wagon road. Five or six miles 
