
A TRAMP IN 
occupied by a pioneer, miles from civiliza- 
tion? This was a typical one. The door 
had a common wooden latch, and on 
the inside was a fresh deer’s hide. On 
the walls hung an assortment of clothing, 
traps, jerked venison, and partly-filled 
sacks, while overhead, reaching almost 
across the room, were the skis, or Nor- 
wegian snow-shoes. On a small shelf in 
one corner were a few dishes, and in an- 
other corner was the bed, over which hung 
a rifle. One small window tried to light 
the room. 
To this place old Iver had come from 
distant Norway to make a home in the 
wilderness. He did not seem at all dis- 
turbed at having his family so suddenly 
enlarged. Instead, he seemed to rather 
enjoy it. Supper over, and our pipes 
lighted, he entertained us with accounts of 
his adventures, of being lost in the woods, 
of his first elk, and his narrow escape 
from a cougar which he had killed the 
previous year. 
We stayed 3 nights and then went with 
him back to miles farther into the moun- 
tains. This journey was made on the 
crust of the snow, which was covered 
thickly with frost crystals of various sizes, 
some being fully 2 inches across, and of 
exquisite shapes. They stood up on the 
snow at an angle cf about 45 degrees, and 
resembled a myriad of white butterflies. 
Our destination was the vacant cabin, on 
whose door we found the following in- 
THE 
OLYMPICS. 421 
scription: “Make yourself to. home, but 
d—n the man what steals anything.” We 
obeyed. Iver said the owner had been 
away 3 months, but to all appearances 
nothing had been molested. 
Two of us laid in a supply of wood while 
the other prepared supper. That night 
and the following were bitterly cold, and 
though we kept up the fire, water froze in 
the cabin. Near by were 4 hot sulphur 
springs. 
We hunted nearly every day, but saw no 
large game, though old signs of elk and 
deer were abundant. Iver was disappointed 
as much as we, for he had promised us an 
elk, but luck was against us, or skill was 
not with us, for we saw no fresh signs. 
On the 4th day we put the cabin to rights. 
Five days later we were on the steamer, 
bound for civilization. 
The next week I heard that a band of 36 
elk had been seen 2 miles from Lake Cres- 
cent, and several had been killed. I re- 
ported to my hunting partner, whose char- 
acteristic reply was: 
“Ves, I’ve no doubt of it. Those elk 
are smooth; they keep one eye on the 
colonel’s register and when dead shots are 
after them they swear off on valleys, tak- 
ing their 6-point antlers and $2 teeth up 
on high Olympus. Meanwhile you and I 
tramp around the country, sleep in cold 
cabins, live on hard-tack and _ sulphur 
water, and finally come home to be jeered 
at by the local press.” 

Winner of 2nd prize in RECREATION’s 4th Annual Photo Competition. 
Bulls-Eye, regular lens, Eastman’s roll film, 5-16 inch stop. 
AMATEUR PHOTO BY EVAN LEWIS. 
ROCKY MOUNTAIN BIG HORN. 
Made with No. 2 Eastman’s 
Snap shot. 
