!* 
Little 
conquered them. The tenderfoot East¬ 
erner certainly has a picnic in his mod¬ 
ern search for plain’s life. He is sim¬ 
ply guided by the skillful Westerner 
into the haunts of what wild animal 
life is left, which now consists mainly 
of the game that is protected in the 
National and State parks, and reserva¬ 
tions. 
Upon riding some distance up hill and 
down dale we came upon a herd of 200 
elk grazing on the valley bottoms and 
they were careful not to let us get very near, un¬ 
armed as we were, but wild animals even within 
the bounds of no-gun parks still look with sus¬ 
picion upon the most destructive of all animals— 
mere man—and with justification. 
Later we came upon small numbers of elk run¬ 
ning through the open stretches of woods and 
at night, when we reached beautiful Yellowstone 
Lake, the guide shouted “There’s a fine piece of 
meat,” and coming down to the water’s edge for 
its evening drink was a great bull elk. 
A bear hunt was the excitement of the next 
morning for a young brown bruin lingered near 
the camp and Guide Hope jumped into the sad¬ 
dle and in a spectacular gallop across the plain 
drove the bear up a tree. All of the younger 
members of the party were after the bear in 
short order. Everyone shot at him with camera 
shutters to their heart’s desire and took particu¬ 
lar pains to retreat when bruin came down. 
Then the crowd went at him again—when he ran 
up another tree—but this time he struck some 
weak branches and tumbled to the ground, 
whereupon the camera hunters scattered in all 
directions and the bear went on his way rejoic¬ 
ing. The party then rode from the shores of 
Yellowstone Lake over to the bluffs of the Yel¬ 
lowstone Canyon. 
The western and eastern methods of making 
camp are as different as the characteristics of the 
two localities. In the West the pyramidal tent 
or tepee is pushed up in a jiffy. This tent is 
all in one piece and has a canvas bottom. First 
the four corners are staked out and fastened, 
and then the tent is raised between two iron 
Reminders of Camp Incidents and Scenery taken during 
a trip through the Yellowstone. 
poles. A scant mattress and blankets complete 
the tent equipment. There is no work at each 
camp site of cutting tent poles and framing and 
no attempt is made to secure balsam boughs—no 
hewing with an axe to raise western tents, a 
contrast to the custom of the woodsmen of the 
Adirondacks or Maine woods. As our camp for 
several days was to be on the banks of the can¬ 
yon of Yellowstone we had the opportunity of 
thoroughly exploring both ahorse and afoot this 
fascinating region. 
And then came the ride to the top of Mount 
Washburn and return, a distance of 26 miles, 
and an ascent above the valley of 4,000 feet; 
10,coo feet above the level of the sea. It was one 
of the grandest horseback rides imaginable—zig¬ 
zagging up, up, up—on the hillsides with Wash¬ 
burn itself out of sight, until the last hour when 
the panorama of the whole park gradually un¬ 
folds itself. With regret the visitor leaves the 
summit and then comes the zigzag down with its 
ever changing vistas. It is a ride that lingers 
in one’s memory for a lifetime as does the drives 
over any the famous passes of the Swiss Alps. 
The next morning we broke camp and started 
for the geyser ground to remain there several 
days amid Nature’s freaks. The first call in 
Western camp life is about six a. m., when the 
guide comes to each tent and shouts—“Roll out 
and roll up”—which means that after a plunge 
in any stream or lake available or the use of 
the time-honored bucket the rider is to pack his 
dunnage and tear down his tent ready for the 
pack wagon. Breakfast in the dining tent is 
next in order, and then to the corral for his 
bred, and naturally had an experienced 
knowledge of horses, wild animals and 
plains craft. When the day’s ride hap¬ 
pened to be hard and dusty and made 
you feel “orny,” as the guide said, but 
which was not often, Guide Hope re¬ 
freshed the party in the evening with 
bear stories or tales of how Roosevelt’s 
Rough Riders enjoyed soldiering—that 
is as they told it when they returned 
to their Western homes—not exactly as 
recorded in the newspapers. 
When the geyser region had been examined 
to the eye’s content and the party had reached 
the southwestern extremity of Yellowstone Lake, 
the horses’ heads were turned toward the south 
that we might go down into the Jackson Hollow 
country for a week and see-some of the wilder¬ 
ness and picturesqueness of this remote region. 
Our first camp south of the park was on the 
banks of the Snake River, the scenery along which 
made up for the twenty-four miles of an endur¬ 
ance ride down through miles of lodge pole 
pines. A memorable sight was to see the horses 
cross the river night and morning for the better 
pasture land on the opposite side. With the 
horses wading across in single file, the plains in 
the immediate foreground and the mountains in 
the distance beyond, it was a scene that would 
satisfy a landscape artist. 
Another day’s march of twenty-one miles 
brought us down to a spot known as Pilgrim 
Creek, where in a cluster of cottonwoods and 
quaking asps we pitched our camp for the night. 
The site of the camp being the location from 
which were drawn the scenes of a popular novel, 
the guide dilated on the book, expressing as his 
opinion that the author “had placed his West¬ 
ern hero between a barbed wire fence and worn 
him to a shadder.” Whenever we had struck 
open country on the way down we sighted the 
sharp, jagged peaks of the Grand Teton Range, 
and now these truly grand mountains were with¬ 
in short range of us. The next day we set out 
to get a nearer view of them from the foot of 
Jackson’s Lake. 
A short but enjoyable ride brought the party 
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