American Big-Game Hunting 



Forks, in a straight line. Here the valley 

 split at right angles against a tall face of 

 mountain, and each way the stream was re- 

 duced to a brook one could cross afoot. The 

 new valley became steep and narrow almost 

 at once, and so continued to the divide 

 between Columbia water and tributaries of 

 the Skagit. We lived comfortably in an old 

 cabin built by prospectors. The rain filtered 

 through the growing weeds and sand on the 

 roof and dropped on my head in bed; but not 

 much, and I was able to steer it off by a rub- 

 ber blanket. And of course there was no 

 glass in the windows ; but to keep out wind and 

 wet we hung gunny sacks across those small 

 holes, and the big stone fireplace was mag- 

 nificent. 



By ten next morning T and I saw 



"three hundred" goats on the mountain op- 

 posite where we had climbed. Just here I 

 will risk a generalization. When a trapper 

 tells you he has seen so many hundred head 

 of game, he has not counted them, but he 



believes what he says. The goats T 



and I now looked at were a mile away in an 

 air-line, and they seemed numberless. The 



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