266 



RECREATION. 



A MOUNTAIN WATERFALL. 



Taken from the Trail. 



fallen logs and dead trees until they are 

 hopelessly stranded. Then one man has to 

 dismount and go off into the timber and 

 back the beast out or perhaps chop a way 

 out with an axe. When this happens once 

 it is annoying, but when it happens a hun- 

 dred times it is simply infuriating. Often 

 the horse in the rear will crowd up and 

 stampede 4 or 5 of his partners ahead. 

 Then again even when the trail is good 

 some perverse beast is sure to get off the 

 trail and get his pack wedged between 2 

 trees or get caught in some fallen log. 

 After the first day or 2 the horses get 

 accustomed to their place in the line and 

 then woe to the horse that tries to squeeze 

 in ahead. 



I well remember that Little Billy's in- 

 genuity in keeping the lead was most amus- 

 ing. He would always arrange it so there 

 would be 3 or 4 horses between himself 



and the nearest driver, so he could stop to 

 pick grass without danger of interruption. 

 This would, of course, delay those behind, 

 who would try to crowd past him. They 

 invariably got a good sound swot in the 

 ribs from Mr. Billy's heels. I was out a 

 few years ago with this same little horse 

 and witnessed a most amusing incident. 

 Billy was, as usual, in the lead. There 

 was another extremely perverse horse 

 which we callea Cyclone on account of his 

 evil disposition and wandering ways. He 

 had been tailed to Litttle Billy; that is, his 

 halter rope had been twisted in the latter's 

 tail. These 2 unhappy beasts got into a 

 wasps' nest and the wasps began to get 

 in their work just as Billy passed. Cyclone 

 stopped; Billy proceeded. A wasp stung 

 Billy. Billy put on full speed ahead. A 

 wasp stung Cycone. Cvclone went astern. 

 For a moment there was a dreadful tension. 

 That poor tail pulled taut as a banjo string. 

 Then alas ! it gave, and Billy plunged for- 

 ward, while Cyclone dashed off into the 

 woods with a long gray tail dragging from 

 his halter rope. I laughed immoderately, 

 much to the disgust of the guide, who 

 never cracked a smile, as it was a bor- 

 rowed horse. He recovered the tail and 

 packed it in the saddle bag with the pro- 

 visions, in the hope that he might get it 

 stuck on again. I do not think he suc- 

 ceeded. 



We usually travel 4 or 5 hours at a 

 stretch. Over good trails we make per- 

 haps 2]/ 2 miles an hour, seldom more and 

 often much less. I recall an expedition in 

 British Columbia when it took 18 days to go 

 40 miles. The start in the morning is 

 usually made at 9 or 10 o'clock and at 

 2 or 3 o'clock we begin to look for a good 

 camping place. There must be water, 

 forage for the horses, fuel and preferably a 

 soft spot on which to pitch our tent, but 

 that is not essential. When a spot is decided 

 on everyone has his hands full. The first 

 thing is to unsaddle one's own horse and 

 turn him to feed. The united efforts of 

 the" whole party are then necessary to catch 

 the pack horses and tie them. They are 

 then led up one by one, the various packs 

 being placed together and the animals turned 

 loose. In the meantime the cook has his 

 fire started and some pots of water boiling 

 over the fire. One is for coffee and one 

 for soup. A few slices of fried bacon and 

 a loaf or 2 of bannock, or baking powder 

 bread, left from breakfast, constitute 

 dinner. After dinner the tent is pitched 

 and the beds are made. The remainder of 

 the day slips away quickly till supper time. 



In stormy weather it is different. When 

 it rains in the mountains the rain is like 

 ice- water ! We are soaked to the skin ; our 

 benumbed fingers, can scarcely untie the 



