A GOAT HUNT IN THE BITTER ROOT MOUNTAINS. 



99 



GIANT CEDARS. 



mals. At this season the creek is low and 

 easy to ford. After crossing it we flushed 

 a bunch of grouse and I scored my first — 

 miss, but I made up for it later in the day. 



We crossed the main divide of the Bitter 

 Root range early the following morning, 

 and then descended into and followed the 

 tortuous canyon of Moose creek. In the 

 afternoon of the fourth day of our horse- 

 back journey we found a letter, by 2 blazed 

 trees near the trail (as had been agreed 

 upon early in the summer), which gave us 

 specific directions from that point. Three 

 hours later, on rounding the crest of a 

 rocky spur, I came in sight of Elk Summit 

 lake and near it, in a clump of pine and fir 

 trees, the white tents and curling smoke of 

 Mr. Carlin's camp. Our meeting after a 

 separation of 18 months was an event such 

 as seldom occurs in the hurried and un- 

 sentimental world of business. 



Beside a lot of provisions and supplies, 

 I delivered about 100 letters and a quantity 

 of other mail matter for Mr. Carlin's party 

 that had been accumulating for 3 months 

 at Hamilton, Montana. Messages from 

 one's friends are never so much appreciated 

 as under such circumstances. The next 

 morning everyone was busy writing letters 

 to send with the returning pack train, 

 which left camp about noon. 



The supply of fresh meat being ex- 

 hausted, 3 of us went hunting in the after- 

 noon. In a short time we succeeded in 

 locating a band of 5 elk, about 2^ miles 

 Northeast of camp. A fat yearling was 

 singled out, and the next morning the meat 

 was packed to camp. 



The mission of Mr. Carlin and party was 

 to photograph live wild animals and birds. 



They had been camping at Elk Summit 

 lake about 6 weeks, and a week after my 

 arrival it was decided to move camp about 

 10 miles to the North. A cache was made 

 on a platform in a bunch of pines, where 

 we left such of the provisions and camp lug- 

 gage as were not needed until our return. 

 The cayuses were rounded up and salted, 

 and the duffle arranged in convenient sized 

 packs. After an early breakfast the follow- 

 ing day, we began to pack the horses. They 

 had become quite wild and unmanageable 

 from not being handled for so long a time. 

 The gentlest ones were packed first with 

 the most valuable things, and as we grad- 

 ually came to those less docile, the interest 

 in the packing increased. Some of the 

 cayuses had characteristic and somewhat 

 romantic names; as, for instance, " Billy 

 Skyrocket," " Creme de Menthe," and 

 " Devil." The first came by his name in 

 crossing a bad ford in Moose creek. While 

 fording the stream in early summer he lost 

 his footing and, entirely submerged, was 

 washed down stream in the swift current 

 for a considerable distance. Nothing was 

 seen of him until, striking some obstruc- 

 tion in the bed of the creek, he suddenly 

 shot up out of the water, pack and all, like 

 a tarpon. His name previously had been 

 plain " Billy," but after this acrobatic dis- 



CEDARS AND FERNS. 



play in shooting the rapids, " Skyrocket " 

 was added. " Creme de Menthe " was the 

 last but one of ~~ the horses packed that 

 morning and, as it was thought she might 

 be a bit frisky, an extra rope was put 

 around her neck. The other neck-rope 



