A Sportsman 153 



Bierstadt had painted his celebrated picture called 

 The Heart of the Rocky Mountains — a very striking 

 and attractive picture of which there have been many- 

 lithographs. 



At times in getting away some distance from the 

 stream it looked as if Dixie was leading us wrong, 

 but he brought us round all right, except in one 

 instance, when he struck up a hill so steep that 

 we had to dismount and hang on to the tails of our 

 horses and mules to keep up u'ith the procession. We 

 felt sure he was wrong this time, but how to stop him 

 was the question, as he kept on ahead, and we were 

 too winded to overtake him. By calling a rest, how- 

 ever, Dixie began to let up and nibble at the scant feed, 

 and one of our guides finally got ahead and turned him 

 back. We had taken the advice of Holland, which 

 proved a good precaution, and loaded up Dixie with 

 a pack to flatter him that he was of sufficient import- 

 ance to belong to the excursion, which no doubt had a 

 salutary effect upon him. 



It was near dark when we arrived at the lake, which 

 was the head waters of Trail Creek, beautifully situated 

 in a moderately opened valley, surrounded upon aU 

 sides but the one of approach by uprising, precipitous 

 ledges of rocks. We were near the Divide, and had 

 in our ascent risen over three thousand feet from 

 Spanish Bar in going over a distance of twenty miles. 

 Rising up ahead of us was a battlement of rocks sev- 

 eral hundred feet in height, bare of timber and covered 

 with snow. This constituted the dividing line of 

 height between the Atlantic and Pacific, and was the 

 pass we were to go over. From the pass on each side 

 were rocky ridges rising hundreds of feet still higher. 



