IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 77 



pulling on our frozen boots. Usually, every man in camp 

 shuns the axe, but this morning there was a race to see who 

 could get hold of it first, for we all felt that it would thaw us 

 out quicker than anything else ; we took turns at chopping, 

 carrying wood and running until we got a fire started, and 

 then piled on dry cottonwood logs and limbs until we soon 

 had a roaring fire, and were standing around it drying and 

 warming ourselves. 



We made a pot of coffee so strong that it swelled our ears \ 

 baked some bread, broiled some choice venison steaks, and 

 were soon discussing a most wholesome breakfast. As we be- 

 came comfortable, and even jovial, we enjoyed the scene 

 around us. The snow-storm was premature. The leaves had 

 not yet fallen from the trees. The wind had ceased early in 

 the night, and the snow had piled up light and feather-like 

 upon the leaves until the boughs were bent down by its 

 weight. The mountain sides are covered with a thick growth 

 of pine timber, the tops of the ridges being bare. All these 

 trees were heavily clad in their mantle of spotless white, and 

 the contrasts between green, gray, brown, golden and other 

 colors, furnished by the autumn foliage, and the snow, made 

 a grand picture. 



While we were preparing breakfast, a fawn, attracted by 

 the noise, came to the top of the long ridge, on the right of 

 our camp, and gazed curiously down upon us for several 

 seconds. Outlined against the gray sky he made a beautiful 

 picture. I was chopping wood some distance from camp 

 when he first appeared, and called to Huffman and Jack, who 

 were near the fire. They sprang for their guns as soon as 

 they saw him, but by this time his curiosity was satisfied, and 

 he bounded away and disappeared behind the hill before 

 they could get a shot. 



Breakfast over, Huffman and I hurried into the timber in 



