S K E IX H E S OF MONTANA. 



VERY few men have their powers of 

 observation trained in more than 

 one direction. Even those who live in the 

 wilds, keen-eyed though they are and quick 

 to detect whatever is of interest in the par- 

 ticular calling which they follow, miss a 

 great deal of what goes on about them. 

 The practiced hunter is ever on the watch 

 for game, but he does not see the fossils in 

 the rocks over which he follows his prey. 

 The packer is intent on his animals and 

 their loads, and notices at once the bad 

 places in the trail over which he has to 

 pass, but he does not see the game unless 

 it is immediately before him. The trapper 

 has his eye always on the ground or the 

 water looking for beaver sign, and is blind 

 to almost everything else. The senses of 

 each one of these have been developed in 

 one particular direction. He has become 

 in a sense a specialist. 



The man who goes into the mountains 

 for the first time sees but a small portion 

 of what goes on about him, and a long 

 training is required before he learns to use 

 his eyes. It is not unusual to hear those 

 who are new to the plains and mountains 

 remark upon the absence of life in these 

 uninhabited regions. The silence of the 

 forest depresses them, and they miss the 

 bird songs, which are such a feature of our 

 Eastern country life in summer. This only 

 means that they do not know how and 

 where to look for the birds and the mam- 

 mals. They are there. Even in the nar- 

 row valley where the Rock Climbers were 

 ■camped, walled in as it is with mountains 

 wh(jse ribs of rock are b(nind together by 

 Ijands of everlasting ice, and whose sum- 

 mits are white with perpetual snow, there 

 were birds, and beautiful ones, aud some 

 of them came close about camp. 



The day after the ascent of the glacier. 

 Jack and Appekunny, starting at daylight 



with their saddles and bridles on their 

 backs, crossed the head of the lake, caught 

 two horses, and went up stream to climb 

 the mountain and bring down the meat of 

 the sheep. They tried to pass around the 

 north side of the lake just below the gla- 

 cier, but the way was so rough and rocky 

 that they were obliged to abandon their 

 horses and to perform half the journey on 

 foot. Reaching the base of the precipice, 

 they climbed it and reached the place 

 where the sheep lay. They then, with 

 great labor, brought it to the summit of the 

 cliff, and lowering it down from shelf to 

 shelf by means of ropes which they had 

 provided, at length got it to the lake shore, 

 and then carried it on their backs to the 

 horses, which packed it into camp. It was 

 a long and hard day's work, however, and 

 when they reached camp that night they 

 were thoroughly exhausted. 



Yo, whose note book was somewhat be- 

 hindhand, and who wished to bring it up to 

 date, determined to remain in camp, and 

 after finishing his task, to search with his 

 glass for the huge male goat seen two or 

 three days before, and if it could be dis- 

 covered, to climb the mountain and try to 

 secure it. He wrote for several hours, and 

 then taking his glass and rifle and going 

 out to the edge of the snowslide, swept the 

 mountain long and carefully, but was un- 

 able to find a single goat. Somewhat dis- 

 couraged, he returned to the fire and re- 

 sumed his writing. 



There was a good deal that was delight- 

 ful in his solitary day, even though nothing 

 very exciting happened and no blood at all 

 was spilled. The forest, which to the 

 casual traveler seems so silent and so des- 

 titute of life, was not without its sounds and 

 its inhabitants, who made themselves very 

 much at home about camp. Early in the 

 morning a friendly little water ouzel came 



