forest and stream 
and half pounds. A down quilt and thin water¬ 
proof cover weighing four and a half pounds 
for extra, cover when very cold completed the 
outfit, but this latter I never used. My beds 
heretofore had usually weighed about twenty- 
eight pounds. Heretofore I usually wore sleep¬ 
ing socks and slept with cold feet. This time I 
wore nothing on my feet and I was always 
warm. 
In the matter of clothing: I started out with 
enough clothes on my back (big mackinaw, 
heavy coats and sweaters, etc.), to tire a man 
out with their weight alone. I envied Closson 
and George in their flannel shirt sleeves. They 
were comfortable, while I, with all my coats, 
was cold. The second day out I said, “If you 
fellows can stand that, so can I,” and from 
that time on, you might have followed our 
trail by the extra and useless articles of wear¬ 
ing apparel I threw away. If I can do aught 
else than start some fellow sportsman of! right 
in the matter of clothing, I shall be pleased 
Dress light! Dress light! All flannel and wool. 
When slightly chilly on the trail, get off and 
walk a little. When in camp, take an axe and 
chop a little. Start the red blood running. 
You can’t do this by piling on clothes, tiring 
yourself with their weight. I wore light weight, 
loose fit underwear, a heavy flannel shirt, a silk- 
jacket (homemade) for windbreaker when 
overheated after long climbs, a light trap shoot¬ 
ing jacket around camp. 
If very cold, wear two flannel shirts. I wore 
no coat. Whenever heard of a fellow leaving 
his place of business for a couple hours’ hard 
walk and loading himself down with sweaters 
storm coats, etc.? Why should you do it in 
camp? I emphasize this, because it is nothing 
new to me. I read all this years ago, but have 
ignored it and have thereby lost much comfort 
For five days we traveled. We had seen lots 
of animal life signs—bears, deer, caribou, sheep 
and goats. George carried a single barrel tele¬ 
scope about twenty-four inches long. One day, 
while in camp, he located a caribou feeding on 
the other side of the river between two and 
three miles away. With this glass he could 
make out the antlers very clearly. With our 
binoculars, we could just see an object—an evi¬ 
dence of the superiority of the old long and 
unwieldy telecope as compared with the bin¬ 
oculars. For grizzlies, sheep and goats, I would 
recommend that these glasses be taken along. 
They might save a hard climb after a head that 
isn t desirable. For all day constant use on a 
hunt of this kind, a good pair of binoculars is 
as important as a good rifle. A strap should be 
531 
attached, so that the glasses can be carried hung 
over the shoulder without the case; thus they 
are always ready for instant use. 
We were sitting on top of a ridge one day 
when two black tail deer came out of the bush 
below us. They stopped, watched us a moment 
and then moved off through the heavy dead 
and down timber. They remained in view for 
half a mile. It was a sight worth while as they 
vaulted over logs high as their backs with seem¬ 
ing ease. Their antlers were just forming in 
velvet. They were big—much bigger than any 
deer I have ever seen. I would estimate them 
three hundred pounds, or over. 
Closson had two Airedale dogs which he took 
along because he thought they might do good 
work hunting bears, but they had not yet been 
trained, and we found, after being out a couple 
of days, that they would be of no use, so sent 
them back with Jack, when he brought the 
canoe up, four days out. 
Closson had gone out about two hundred 
yards from camp one evening just before sup¬ 
per, to take a look at a slide. He chanced to 
turn toward the river and saw two grizzlies— 
one big one and one small one. They stood at 
the edge of the water on the opposite side of 
the river, just a short distance below camp He 
came running in for me, but, by the time we 
got down to the gravel flat in the river, they 
had gone into the timber out of sight. Next 
morning we crossed the river and saw their 
tracks. They were headed back over a high 
ridge to a canon about six miles away. 
Closson and I decided we would each take a 
light pack and go back to the canon. We spent 
six hours getting there, traveling over the 
roughest country I have ever seen. We failed 
to find any good looking slide. After a few 
hours’ rest, we returned to camp reaching there 
at dark, after twelve hours of hard work and 
nothing to show for it. It was at times like 
this a fellow couldn’t help but feel that all 
things considered, he was entitled to all the 
bears he could get, even if he got all there were 
in the country. 
This day George remained in camp until noon 
and then rode back down the river three miles 
to look out for Jack with the canoe. On the 
way, he passed a salt-lick slide where he had 
seen fresh goat signs. When he reached it he 
came on to five kids sporting around like lambs. 
He had so much fun with them that he forgot 
he had his kodak and lost a good picture. 
And then the days on the long trail with the" 
pack horses, each bringing new sights and 
sounds. c '~ ’’ * 
Snow slides increased as we got farther 
out. When interest lagged, there were always 
the pack horses themselves to watch. A gra/ 
mare seemed to be the self-appointed leader- 
o d in years and wise in the experience of the 
trail. She usually held the place at the head 
in spite of the efforts of the others to displace 
er. After a more than usually steep descent 
when the saddle horses would open up a gap in 
the rear, the others would prepare to forge past 
her. She would stop, turn her head, lay hack¬ 
lier ears and survey them calmly—seemingly 
saying, I’m boss here and I dare you to try to 
pass me.” This was enough to send them scur¬ 
rying in every direction. She never kicked or 
put forth any physical effort to force them back 
perhaps an example of mind over matter 
We were now well up towards the headwaters 
of the river. The mountains come right down 
to the edge of the river, which had spread out 
in a big, wide gravel flat about half mile in 
width Day after day we listened to the roar 
hke thunder and watched the avalanches of 
snow as they slid down the mountain sides 
often landing almost at our feet—truly a most 
wonderful sight. 
The night of the sixth day out found us 
camped along the river below the big flats Up 
to this time, we had been traveling most of the 
day, only stopping long enough to look for fresh 
signs, but now we decided we would go out on 
a hunt. Closson and I left camp the next morn- 
mg. After riding up the river for about three 
hours, we stopped at a point opposite one of the 
so-called "slides.” These slides are placed on 
the mountain side that have at one time been 
swept clear, of snow. Later, they grow up in 
big mountain willow patches covering most of 
their surface, but here and there are small 
spaces kept open by the snow and, in the early 
spring, they are covered with small bunches of 
tender grass and Indian turnip. Bears feed on 
this grass in the early spring. Since we were 
hunting bear, we watched these slides from the 
flats below. This day we had spent watching 
until well into the afternoon, but had seen 
nothing. Shortly after three o’clock, Closson 
said, "Do you want to get a coyote?” We 
located two along the river flats on the opposite 
side and two hours after we had one of them 
skinned out. 
We started for camp. We had ridden about a 
mile when we saw a bear across a snow slide 
about two thousand feet above us. Closson 
said, "Well, don’t that beat --! Shoot a 
coyote and lose a bear.” But, after watching 
him a few moments, he said, “We may get a 
chance at him yet.” The bear crossed the snow 
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