IO 



RECREATION. 



camped at a ranch in Big Hole basin. We 

 took turns during the night in fighting off 

 a drove of hogs that were determined to 

 feed out of our packs. 



Sunday, the 16th, we visited Big Hole 

 battle ground. The thrilling story of that 

 historic event is so well told by the editor 

 of Recreation in his book that every 

 reader should have a copy. Just previous 

 to our arrival, a badger had dug into one 

 of the graves on the point and a skull and 

 bones lay exposed to view, thus rudely dis- 

 turbed after more than 20 years' peaceful 

 rest. Whether white or Indian we could 

 not determine. The monument is much 

 defaced. The badger and the vandal are 

 on the same level of ignorance. The bad- 

 ger follows his instinct to burrow. The 

 vandal yields to a morbid desire to possess. 

 The vandal has had an opportunity to 

 learn and should know and do better. 



The next day, after leaving Big Hole, we 

 had a startling experience. A bunch of 

 several hundred sheep had become lost, 

 and, seeing our horses from a distance, 

 came tearing along after us like mad. 

 Blair and I were leading the procession 

 down a steep incline in a narrow part of 

 the trail, when the bleating bunch struck 

 our rear guard and stampeded the pack 

 horses down on to us, pell mell. The con- 

 ditions were favorable for trouble, but we 

 succeeded in extricating our horses and 

 selves from the plunging, kicking, biting 

 bunch without accident, though the sheep 

 followed us several miles and we had 

 some difficulty in getting away from them. 



Tuesday, the 18th, we camped at the 

 ranch of John Stella, just out of Darby. 

 Stella has a good sporting bungalow. 

 This season he took out the party of Mr. 

 Charles P. Pettus, of St. Louis, over the 

 Lost Horse trail. They captured deer, elk, 

 goat and bear. 



On the 21st we were well into the moun- 

 tains on the famous Nez Perces trail, from 

 which we had been told we could kick the 

 game as we went along. How difficult it 

 is for one to say truly, "That was the hap- 

 piest day" or "This is the sweetest mu- 

 sic," or "She is the prettiest girl !" Gen- 

 erally the last seems best. I can truly af- 

 firm that at a given point after passing 

 Castle mountain the scenery is the most 

 beautiful in extent and grandeur, breadth 

 and scope, ruggedness and magnificence 

 that I have ever seen or ever hope to see, 

 and my experience has been considerable. 

 For an hour I continually repeated to my- 



self, so that my mind should be fully im- 

 pressed by the fact, never after to waver, 

 "This must be the grandest sight on 

 earth." 



^ We camped that night near a small 

 Flathead Indian outfit. They showed us 

 where to find a small spring. During the 

 evening we were overtaken by Messrs. 

 Robb and Chillson, who were making a 

 break to go through with us to the Little 

 Salmon meadows. We found them good 

 company, but they were a divided house; 

 one in favor of pushing on and the other 

 in favor of turning back before they were 

 snowed in for the winter. They eventu- 

 ally went with us as far as the Little Sal- 

 mon. The meadows, like the game, were 

 not to be seen. We rested in camp the 

 23d. There had been a snowfall of sev- 

 eral inches. The 24th we crossed Mc- 

 Gruder mountain, one of the most difficult 

 sections of the trail. We were profound- 

 ly_ impressed by the details of the awful 

 crime committed there when McGruder, 

 his men and mules were cruelly murdered 

 and their bodies thrown over the cliff. 



The afternoon of the 25th we were "la- 

 boring heavily in a rough sea" ; that is to 

 say, we had some doubts as to the trail. 

 We camped that night on the summit of 

 the Divide, altitude not less than 10,000 

 feet. There was little feed or water, the 

 cold was severe, a high wind was blowing 

 and snow was falling. Had the storm 

 continued, our fate would have been set- 

 tled right there, but fortunately it cleared 

 during the night. On the 27th Messrs. 

 Robb and Chillson quit at Little Salmon. 

 They had had enough and turned back. 

 From Little Salmon to Elk City is about 

 40 miles, and easily done in 2 days. An 

 interesting feature of the trail is the mul- 

 titude of inscriptions on the trees, gener- 

 ally some tale of woe or hard luck story, 

 coupled with advice to turn back. 



On the 28th we camped at the ranch of 

 Buster Smith, Elk City. I drove 55 miles 

 to the nearest railroad point, Kooskia. 

 Blair and outfit went back over the trail, 

 and narrowly escaped being snowed in for 

 the winter. One horse perished, and on 

 their last day in the mountains they en- 

 countered a furious snow storm that near- 

 ly overwhelmed them, but they finally 

 succeeded in breaking through to Darby 

 and thence back to Blair's ranch, in Cen- 

 tennial valley, where I am sure you would 

 be a welcome visitor. 



She — I understand veal has gone up. 



He — I guess that's right; I see the res- 

 taurants have raised the price of chicken 

 salad. — Yonkers Statesman. 



