Cavtping arid Hunting in the ShosJione 



while he steers with his rifle-butt, is to-day 

 a mystery to me. I rashly once, and only 

 once, tried to keep up with him on a 

 snow-slide, and only succeeded in making 

 myself feel, from my head to my heels, 

 like a very-much-grated nutmeg. I almost 

 broke my rifle, did tear my hand, and so 

 hopelessly damaged my single remaining 

 hunting-suit that when, clad in what was 

 left of it, a fortnight after, I humbly sought 

 to claim a place in the Northern Pacific 

 Railroad dining-car, the conductor was for 

 summarily ejecting me, and said frankly 

 that such as I had no right to come in 

 there. 



Lay the lesson to heart, therefore, and 

 if you want to keep your clothes, or get 

 your dinner, go slow on snow ; keep both 

 feet down, put on plenty of brake, and 

 you will have a delicious slide on your way 

 to the valley. In this way, snow-slopes 

 that seem absolutely precipitous from be- 

 low, and even from above look too steep 

 for safety, may be descended at a consid- 

 erable pace and without risk. They are, 

 however, I must confess, a little scaring at 

 first ; and I don't think a team of mules 

 could have dragged me down the first I 

 tried, had there been a possibility of get- 

 ting home any other way. They are very 



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