Big Game in the Rockies 



west, and an ugly rolling of thunder warned 

 us that no genial spring day with shirt-sleeve 

 accompaniment was to gladden and cheer us. 

 Still we must look for bears; so buttoning up 

 our coats and turning up our collars we sur- 

 veyed the country. At the same time it was 

 impossible to forego a study of the grandeur 

 of the view displayed before us. 



Those who have seen the mountains and 

 foot-hills only in the fall of the year, when 

 every blade of grass is parched and brown 

 and dry, can form no adequate idea of the 

 change that presents itself in the spring. Es- 

 pecially is one surprised when, standing on 

 the top of some mountain height surrounded 

 by everlasting snow, he looks down over the 

 valleys and sees the richness and vividness of 

 the green growing grasses which seem to roll 

 up almost to his feet. As we stood there we 

 had a glorious panorama. The vast gathering 

 cloud was behind us, and the sun, though 

 not shining for us, was lighting up the broad 

 valley below. Greybull River stretched away 

 until it joined the Big Horn beyond. The 

 whole range of the Big Horn Mountains was 

 visible, their snow-tops glistening like a bank 

 8 113 



