53a 



RECREATION 



of these cats. It was not long before Pete's 

 revolvers could be heard barking, and in a 

 short time he returned with two brace of 

 white ptarmigan, each with its head shat- 

 tered by a pistol ball, and I confess these 

 birds were more to my liking than cat meat. 

 Up here mid the snow fields the ptarmigan 

 apparently keep their winter plumage the 

 year round, and if I were their only foe the 

 fern seed cap of invisibility could not serve 

 them a better purpose, but to Big Pete a 

 white ptarmigan on a white snowfield 

 seemed to be as easy for him to detect as it 

 would be for me if the same bird was 

 perched on a heap of coal. I had not seen 

 one of these grouse since we had been in the 

 mountains and was not aware of their pres- 

 ence until my companion returned with the 

 four dead birds. Without wasting time 

 Pete began to prepare them for cooking. 

 He soon built a fire of some sticks which he 

 had brought from the w T oods below and 

 cooked the birds over the embers. He tossed 

 a brace to me, and sitting upon opposite 

 sides of the black chasm with our feet hang- 

 ing over the edge, facing each other, we ate 

 our evening meal without salt or pepper, 

 and then each of us curled up like a gray 

 wolf under the shelter of a stone and slept as 

 safely as if we were on our bed-rolls. down 

 in the genial atmosphere of the park, in 

 place of being up in the bitingly cold night 

 air of the bleak mountain tops. I, at least, 

 must have slept soundly, and, thanks to the 

 clothes Big Pete had so kindly made for me, 

 I do not remember feeling cold. When I 

 opened my eyes again it was daylight, and I 

 could scarcely believe that I had been asleep 

 more than fiveminutes since I bade my friend 

 good-night. Although we were separated by 

 that impassable chasm, it seemed perfectly 

 natural and right that Big Pete should be 

 again with me in the morning, cooking 

 breakfast and making tea in a tin cup over 

 one of those economical little fires he so 

 loved to build, even when we were in the 

 park, where there was fuel enough for a 

 roaring bonfire. I asked him how he 

 jumped the canyon; he chuckled and re- 

 plied, "Wul, Le-Loo, I didn't hev to. 

 Don't you remember I said it wuz a pipe 

 dream and would be all right when we woke 

 up in the morning?" 



I did remember, but for reasons of my 



own I think the mountaineer had taken a 

 long journey in the early morning hours and 

 found a crossing at some distant point. 

 After breakfast we started again on the trail 

 of the mountain girl, determined to solve the 

 mystery, and were not surprised to find our- 

 selves again on the trail of a bear, but this 

 time we intended to run that bear down. 



It was soon evident that it was an exceed- 

 ingly active bear which we were following, 

 and it could climb over green glacier ice like 

 a Swiss guide and over rocks like a goat ; it 

 led us a wild ; wild chase over friable and 

 treacherous stones covered with "verglas," 

 over dangerous couloirs to high elevations, 

 where the frozen snow combed over the 

 beetling crags, and the avalanche roared 

 and thundered down the rocks, dashing the 

 fragments of stone over the lower ice fields. 

 But Big Pete never hesitated, and I followed 

 him without a word, and when the trail led 

 along the edge of a dizzy height I would look 

 right at Big Pete's broad back and then my 

 head would not swim. It was exciting and 

 exhilarating work, and the violent exercise 

 kept me so warm that I carried the most of 

 my clothes in a bundle on my back. Pres- 

 ently our path led us into a goat trail, one of 

 those century-old paths made by these 

 shaggy white Alpine animals and used by 

 them as regular highways; there was plenty 

 of fresh goat sign, and the broad path led us 

 over a saddle mountain to the verge of a 

 cliff, beyond which it seemed impossible for 

 anything but goats to pursue the trail. Here 

 we sat down to rest and to make a cup of tea 

 over a tiny fire, although wood was plenty at 

 this place, it being in the timber line. 



Below us lay a valley, into which numer- 

 ous small glaciers emptied their everlasting 

 supply of ice and blocks of stone, and horse- 

 tail falls poured from the melting snow 

 fields. It might have presented enchanting 

 prospects to an iceman" or a bighorn, or a 

 Rocky Mountain goat, but for two tired men 

 it was a most gloomy and desolate place, and 

 I felt certain that even a witch-bear would 

 not choose it as a camping ground. We had 

 finished our tea and I was feeling somewhat 

 refreshed when I noticed a peculiar stinging 

 sensation about my face; it felt as if I had 

 been attacked by some poisonous insects, 

 but there were none in sight. Pete at this 

 time was some distance away, prospecting 



