280 WILD SPORTS IN THE FAR WEST. 



speaking a word, asked if I thought I could find the trail 

 again on retracing my steps. The weather was not 

 favorable for conversation ; I shouldered my rifle, 

 went some way back, made a cu'cle, and found a strip 

 of darker ground amongst the leaves. I called out, 

 and my companion came, leading his horse, and said 

 that I might ride, and he would follow up the path, as 

 his eyes were more accustomed to forest Avork than 

 mine. Tired with the long day's march, I was not 

 sorry for this, and was soon in the saddle, while Slow- 

 trap, stooping low, preceded me about two hundred 

 paces ; but he came to a stand where I had stopped, 

 and said the path ended there. We could not be 

 far from the descent to the Mulberry, for the trees 

 were thinner, and Slowtrap said that if it were not so 

 dark, Ave might be able to see the whole of its valley. 

 At present nothing was to be seen but our miserable 

 plight. 



It is dangerous to lose one's way in these hills, as 

 precipices occur where least suspected. The rain now 

 fell in torrents, and we were as wet as drowned rats. 

 At length we decided on descending the hill straight 

 before us, lead where it would. It was steep and 

 slippery, and although we led the horse, we were often 

 in danger of falling into one of the steep ravines ; we 

 passed so near one that we heard the stones fall to the 

 bottom as they were kicked away by the horse's feet. 



It may have been about eleven o'clock when the dogs 

 gave the first signs of life, by a growl and a low bark. 

 Then the oldest of them, a good old fellow, covered with 

 honorable scars, gave a short howl. It was answered 

 by several dogs in the distance ; this inspired us with 



