8 



RECREATION. 



hit the Gospel Mountain trail to the Hump. 

 The distance is a little less than 25 miles, 

 and the greatest elevation about 8,000 feet. 

 The trail? Well, many better mountain 

 men than we had been over it, but it 

 snowed all day, and that doubled the diffi- 

 culties and halved the pleasures of the 

 trip, as most of the magnificent views 

 were shut out by the storm clouds. 



We reached Concord about 9 o'clock 

 in the evening, having been on the trail 

 somewhat more than 12 hours. When 

 within a half mile of Concord, we nar- 

 rowly escaped being blown from the trail 

 into the canyon below by blasts which 

 were fired almost in our faces. At that 

 time our company was operating a pack 

 train of about 25 head between Adams 

 camp and Concord, and employing some 

 40 men in the various operations of min- 

 ing, building, developing town site, etc. 

 Just previous to our arrival the first 

 grave was opened on our property in Con- 

 cord to receive the body of the unfortu- 

 nate victim of a quarrel which terminated 

 fatally. James P. Turner had passed the 

 previous winter in Concord and reported 

 18 feet of snow. The small log structure 

 in the foreground of the accompanying 

 picture was his only shelter and was the 

 first house built at Buffalo Hump. 



So much has been written within the last 

 few years in re Central Idaho, and espe- 

 cially the Hump and adjacent country, 

 touching on the vital points of physical 

 and climatic conditions, mineral resources, 

 development, etc., that little remains to be 

 added until new history is made, and it is 

 making fast at the present time. The 

 railroad from Lewiston to Stites has cut 

 off about 60 miles of the stage ride over 

 Camas prairie to Grangeville, and a pass- 

 able wagon road has succeeded the Gospel 

 Mountain trail. Thunder mountain is now 

 attracting much attention, and it is expect- 

 ed that the tide of travel will soon set 

 strongly that way. 



Finishing our business at Concord, we 

 returned to Grangeville and thence back to 

 Boston. I decided that in the following 

 year I would approach the Hump from the 

 "East, leave the railroad at a point in Mon- 

 tana and travel West over the Nez Perces 

 trail to Elk City. Arrangements were 

 made accordingly, and Mondav, September 

 3, I .left the cars at Monida, Montana. 

 There I found James Blair, with whom I 

 had previously made several similar trios, 

 •and his 2 assistants, John Bray and Joe 

 Kemp, ready for me. Blair's outfit, 22 head 

 of horses, of which 14 were pack, 6 were 

 saddle animals and 2 were young colts, was 

 the handsomest and best I have ever seen. 

 He raises, breaks and trains his animals 

 himself. As a hunter, trailer or packer. 

 Mr. Blair probably has no superior in his 



section of the country. He is efficient, 

 fearless and tireless when on the trail. 

 Our supplies, selected and shipped from 

 Boston, were on hand, the packs were ac- 

 curately weighed and prepared for the 

 horses, and Wednesday morning, Sep- 

 tember 5, with an outfit as complete and 

 perfect as careful thought directed by the 

 knowledge of long experience could as- 

 semble, we started on our long journey of 

 nearly 500 miles to Buffalo Hump. James 

 Blair lead the way, and he was leading in 

 his own bold, fearless way when we en- 

 tered Elk City, Idaho, 24 days later. 



Our course was via Big Sheep Creek 

 basin, Horse prairie, Bloody Dick creek, 

 Big Hole, Moose creek, Trail creek, Ross 

 Forks to Darby, thence via Nez Perces 

 trail to Elk City. None of us had been 

 over the ground before ; the trail was diffi- 

 cult, even dangerous, and in places blind 

 and impassable until with axes we cut our 

 way through fallen timber. We were late 

 in the season in starting and encountered 

 snows and severe cold. Feed for the 

 horses was scarce and on more than one 

 occasion lacking, and horses will travel a 

 long way after being turned loose, looking 

 for feed. Water is to be found only at 

 long intervals, and the camp at night 

 must be timed to water and grass. Here 

 is a mountain wilderness of pine, an ocean 

 of tree tops nearly 150 miles in extent 

 East and West, with little water, few, if 

 any, mountain meadows, so common in 

 other sections, and no game of account, 

 large or small. We saw a solitary mule 

 deer and half a dozen fool hens. Nothing 

 else. We found none of the usual tracks 

 or signs of game along the trail or about 

 the watering and feeding places. We met 

 two Flathead hunting parties whose camps 

 looked rather lean. They were having 

 poor success. 



The first day out from Monida, when 

 near Lima, we narrowly escaped disaster. 

 The road on which we were then traveling 

 makes through a narrow defile with per- 

 pendicular walls on either side. Ahead it 

 narrows to a mere pass, through which 

 comes a spur of the railroad. Half way 

 between us and the pass a large drove of 

 cattle were feeding, many of them stand- 

 ing on the tracks. We were giving them 

 all the room we could, when through the 

 pass came a freight train, up grade, with 

 ringing bell, screeching whistle and clouds 

 of black smoke hanging low and blowing 

 straight toward us. It is impossible to de- 

 scribe just what followed, I was so busy 

 with that part which particularly interest- 

 ed me, namely, an endeavor to save my 

 own neck. There was a flying wedge of 

 bellowing cattle and a wild dash of stam- 

 peded horses, snorting and bucking. The 

 bell, the whistle, the rush of the animals, 



