HUNTING IN THE BAKER RANGE. 



TOT 



the heavens. Occasionally a bright streak 

 of light would dart through the snow white 

 fleece, to be followed immediately by a 

 heavy roll of thunder, seemingly shaking 

 the mountains to their foundations. 



"On an immense glacier to the Southeast 

 the moon's rays fell full and bright, mak- 

 ing the great wall of ice reflect all the 

 colors of the rainbow. Now and then a 

 great mass of ice and snow would go 

 crashing into the depths below, the jar 

 of which, coupled with the thunder, 

 brought to mind the vision of Faust on 

 the summit of the Brocken." 



The next day the journey was resumed. 

 Occasionally the party would come to "a 

 small park, of 8 or 10 acres, in which grass 

 was growing luxuriantly, while bees were 

 humming and several varieties of song 

 birds sent forth their music, making a 

 pleasing contrast to the desolate country 

 through which the men had previously 

 passed. 



Two white ptarmigan were killed, dur- 

 ing the day, and were added to Professor 

 Collins' collection. Several bands of goats 

 were seen, but none killed. Camp was 

 made early, and the next morning Austin 

 and Collins started for the summit of the 

 mountain on a hunt, as the meat secured 

 the day before was all gone. 



Shortly after reaching the summit / 

 goats were seen in one band, standing on 

 the edge of a deep canyon. Collins con- 

 cealed himself, while Austin went to the 

 head of the draw on which they were 

 standing. Austin soon reached the desired 

 point, when Collins showed himself to the 

 suspicious animals. The band divided, 4 

 going up the draw while the others fol- 

 lowed around the canyon on the snow. 

 The first 4 came within 50 yards of the 

 hunter, who opened fire, killing 2 with the 

 first 2 shots. One of the goats rolled into 

 a crevice in the snow, while the other 

 tumbled down the mountain side fully 

 2,000 feet, lodging against a big boulder. 

 A third shot broke the leg of another goat. 

 The rifle spoke again, when the animal 

 ran a short distance and fell dead. 



Austin followed the fourth to the edge 



of the snow, getting within about 200 

 yards of it, and by a fortunate shot laid it 

 dead in its tracks. 



Three of the goats were carried into 

 camp and were estimated to weigh 200 to 

 250 pounds each. The next morning the 

 fourth one was secured, and proved fully 

 as large as any of the others. The party 

 was thus well supplied with meat, and re- 

 mained in camp 3 days jerking goat meat 

 for the remainder of the journey. They 

 christened this Goat Camp. 



On August 2d the men started for a 

 large lake, which they could see, about 6 

 miles to the North, and- which they 

 reached during the following morning. 

 On the 4th they continued their journey 

 along the East shore of the lake, and 

 about 9 o'clock came on the ruins of an 

 Indian camp, which had probably been 

 used many years before, while hunting in 

 the surrounding mountains. 



A short distance farther they came to a 

 glacier stream, and while deliberating on 

 the course to take discovered a grave in 

 one of the most desolate and dismal spots 

 imaginable. A cedar tree near bore the 

 following inscription: 



"Sacred to the memory of Michael 

 Brown, a native of Galway, Ireland. 

 Drowned in Chilaweyak lake, October 

 10th, 1858. Member of the 9th U. S. In- 

 fantry. Found June 18, 1859, and buried 

 by his comrades. Age, 26 years." 



The present party were probably the first 

 white men to visit this grave since the 

 burial of the soldier, a quarter of a cen- 

 tury before. 



A two hours' march up this glacier 

 stream took them to the old U. S. 

 boundary survey of 1858. which had been 

 cut 15 feet wide through the wilderness, 

 but was grown up with underbrush. 

 That was virtually the end of their adven- 

 tures and sufferings, although they had 

 to travel 3 days more over country similar 

 to that through which they had passed, be- 

 fore reaching Cowley's ranch on the Fort 

 Hope trail, where they procured their first 

 square meal since leaving Puget sound. 



"Well, if you haven't still got that red 

 vest!" exclaimed the jay bird, when he 

 met the robin. 



"They are still the proper thing," an- 

 swered the robin; "at least, the jays have 

 not taken to them yet." 



The early worm here putting in an ap- 

 pearance, society chit-chat was laid aside 

 for the practice of benevolent assimila- 

 tion. — Indianapolis Press. 



