236 Recreations of a Sportsman 



them, thirty-five miles of stupendous forest, so 

 big, so thick that the anglers who have thought 

 well of themselves for years are silenced. There 

 is something in a really big forest that ought 

 to take the conceit out of the average man, and 

 this forest did; its bigness crept into the souls 

 of some, it awed others, and there were some 

 who wished to take off their sombreros to the 

 very big trees, and would, but there were so 

 many, it was a question of holding one's hat 

 in his hand. 



The stage road wound through the beautiful 

 great trees in the direction of least resistance. 

 Sometimes a sound would come ringing through 

 the trees, the sound of bells, and a six-, eight-, or 

 ten-horse and mule freight would heave in sight, 

 and every driver knew "Bill," our driver, and had 

 a word to say. Again it would be a load of log- 

 gers, huge big-limbed fellows, red, brown, hairy, 

 going out somewhere; or it would be a prairie 

 schooner, women and babies lying on the beds, 

 bear skins on the side, with tired dogs beneath; 

 ranchers going home down the Kogue River from 

 a camping trip up the lake; or an old-fashioned 

 buggy with a solemn man and woman, a country 

 parson going to a funeral, as people do die here. 

 Yet in all this forest there was not a house or 

 cabin that we could see, and it was trees, eternally 

 trees, glorified, for twenty miles up and down 

 over the splendid mountains. There were two 



