8 go 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[June 8. 1907. 
to a bend in the river appeared to stand neat 
together like a huge gate, through which could 
be seen the tall white cliffs beyond gleaming in 
sunlight. Maximilian says (I am quoting from 
the French edition of 1841, Vol. II., p. 274) • 
“The next morning, Sept. 17, we went rapidly 
through the gate of the Stone Walls where the 
strange figures which I have described above 
passed before us like a dream. * * * The beavet 
trappers and employes of the fur company are 
the only ones who contemplate with indifference 
these interesting nature pictures, for very few 
among them know how to appreciate them. F01 
'the most of them a handful of dollars has more 
value than all that is most remarkable in the 
Rocky Mountains.” 
Sept. 25 we stopped on the left bank tor lunch 
and found on the beach sign of beaver, coyote, 
prairie chicken, ducks, geese and the first tracks 
of deer thus far seen. From this point we noticed 
more and more deer sign, particularly of white- 
tails, as we gradually entered the region of the 
broad leaf cottonwood and more extensive river 
bottoms. Naturally where the bluffs and bad 
lands approach nearest the river, the timbeied 
bottom lands are narrow or altogether lacking 
and the few deer found are mostly blacktails, 
which, though sometimes coming to the river to 
water, usually range back three to ten miles in 
the breaks. As the country begins to take on a 
typical badlands character the hunting is tire¬ 
some, especially in warm weather, and the deer 
so few and scattered at this season that it is 
next to impossible to locate them. We found 
it both exhausting and discouraging, for though 
we sometimes tramped ten and fifteen miles a 
dav we saw but one blacktail deer and no other 
game whatever in the hills the entire trip. T. he 
few deer we killed and—with this one exception 
all we saw—were in the timbered bottom lands, 
for here it must be remembered both species fre¬ 
quent the willows and cottonwoods. To me it 
was a revelation to find blacktails in the thick 
willows. I had always known them as inhabi¬ 
tants of the badlands and mountains, and in these 
thickets they seem out of place, for though using 
the same cover as the whitetails they appear not 
to have acquired the art of skulking and hiding, 
which is such an effectual protection of the latter 
species. 
On the whole there are not many waterfowl 
on this part of the river, except about the estu¬ 
aries of the tributary streams, though near and 
below Milk River we 'found them rather plenti¬ 
ful. Still we often killed ducks, and one day 
Mr. Tyler got seven, so that our “table” was 
usually supplied. 
When we encamped for the night in a thin 
fringe of cottonw r oods on the right bank we 
saw about dusk a man walking on the opposite 
shore and later a camp-fire about half a mile 
below. I took the glasses to reconnoiter, and 
upon focusing on the individual saw that he also 
was looking through glasses at me, so we both 
waved our hands in salutation. It proved to be 
our old friend “Box,” of “Box and Cox,” and 
we held a long range conversation with him. 
They had seen deer tracks near the rim rocks 
on their side and had noticed a small band of 
antelope several days before further up the river. 
Sept. 26.—About daybreak we heard a great 
clamor of geese, one flock on the beach calling 
to another passing over, and as it grew' lighter 
we could see six or seven across the river. Mr. 
Tyler crawled out to get a shot at them, and 
while he was doing so I caught a glimpse of a 
fox on the shore about thirty yards away. I 
rolled over in the blankets to reach my rifle, 
but when I looked back the fox had disappeared 
around a curve of the bank, and the geese also 
took the alarm and got. safely away. To-day, 
for the first time, we hunted the hills back from 
the river, finding many cattle in the rolling coun¬ 
try which here intervenes between the river and 
the precipitous and rather well timbered breaks. 
Here we found pines, cedars and firs, but only 
a few old deer tracks. We saw several springs 
of clear w r ater, but with a decided alkali taste. 
While up ;n the hills we had seen the two 
Germans break camp and start down the river, 
and next morping we followed their example. 
Sept. 28.—Hunted in the badlands, from, the 
higher points of which we had an extended view. 
Far away the river wound its course through the 
delicately tinted bluffs of varied forms which 
blended in the distance into most subtle tones of 
delicate silvery blues and violets. It was one 
of the most exquisite landscapes I have ever 
seen. The prevailing tint of the hills is a light 
warm gray, in places approaching to salmon 
color. Some of the slopes are heavily timbered 
with pine and fir, often with a tangled under¬ 
growth of dwarfed juniper which is almost im¬ 
passable. We saw a well defined deer trail run¬ 
ning back from the river, also a few deer tracks 
and beds, but no game. The cliffs are so steep 
that it is only in. certain places that one can 
reach the top. Now we'began to see mountains 
to the northeast and east, and at one point on 
the river a mountain range looms up in the dis¬ 
tance, seeming t'o block all further progress, but 
the stream sobn begins to take a more southerly 
course and passes around it. The Bear Paw 
and Little Rocky Mountains to the north and the 
Snowy Mountains to the south are visible from 
the higher ground until after passing the Mus¬ 
selshell. and add much to the beauty of the land¬ 
scape, but on the river itself, except from one 
or two points, no mountains are to be seen. 
We passed Judith River where there is a store 
and postoffice. Much fresh beaver sign here. 
For several days our experiences were not of 
sufficient interest to record, except that we passed 
a good many rapids, some of the worst of which 
occur between here and the Musselshell, though 
there are a few rather bad ones below that point. 
During the first few days of our journey we fre¬ 
quently ran aground. This was often the result 
of our desire to avoid rapids, but we soon found 
that a rapid was not necessarily a thing to be 
dreaded, and was at times even preferable to the 
smooth, wide stretches with little current. Often 
the river is divided by islands or bars of gravel 
or sand into two or three channels (further 
down we found on one occasion as many as 
nine), and in one of these channels are very apt 
to be rapids. Most of them are safe enough, and 
it is only necessary to keep the boat headed right 
and let her go. Only once or twice did we ship 
water enough to require baling, and then it was 
due largely to our own carelessness in allowing 
the boat to swing quartering against the swash 
of the waves. It is only when the rapids are 
rocky that there is any serious danger to a boat 
manned by fairly experienced boatmen. Most 
of the rocks are rather smooth boulders at times so 
close together that it is puzzling to pick a course 
between them. Most of the rapids appear worse 
when viewed from an elevation, and with the 
wind in the right direction the roar of some of 
them can be heard a mile away. Speaking for 
myself I must say that I never entirely got over 
a feeling of slight apprehension whenever our 
ears detected this sound, and we saw white water 
ahead, but we soon learned to have great con¬ 
fidence in our boat, and were ready to negotiate 
'almost anything, though once or twice we did 
back out rather hurriedly when almost at the 
scratch, taking the smoother channel, getting into 
shoal water, and regretting our choice at leisure. 
But it is this constant need of watchfulness and 
judgment which gives zest to the trip, for rarely 
can one see the water for more than a _ half 
mile ahead, and there is always the eagerness 
of expectation to know what the next bend will 
reveal. 
About midway of our course the river bottom ■ 
gradually changes from gravel to hard Sand, so 
except in a few stony places there was no fear 
of injuring our boa,t in grounding on shoals. We 
had no trouble with snags and sawyers, for 
while they have a forbidding look it is easy to 
avoid them. 
On Oct. 7 we arrived at Wilder. This, like 
all 'the postoffices on the river between Benton 
and Wolfpoint, is not a town (there are no 
towns), but a single ranch. In the ranchman- 
postmaster, Mr. Mark L. Frost, we discovered 
a man who takes rather an unusual interest in 
the history of the region and passed an hour 
or so very, agreeably with him. He is evidently 
a hunter, too, for only a few days before our 
arrival he had shot, from his doorway,'a deer 
standing on the opposite shore, and a day or 
two before had refused a similar chance because 
he already had all the meat he needed.. He had 
killed several bears . along the river in former 
years, but he had no knowledge of any sheep. 
He had a collection of several curious articles, 
among them an old Hudson’s Bay Co. fusee 
(fusil) of the short pattern used in running 
buffalo. It was such a venerable looking weapon 
that I could not rest till I had bought it. It 
was found lying on the prairie, by a cowboy, 
near Little Button Butte, about fifteen miles 
south of Wilder. The iron parts are badly 
rusted, and the wood bleached by exposure to 
a pale ashy gray. On the side opposite the lock, 
which is of the flint variety, is a brass ornament 
in the form of some fabulous water monster, a 
sea serpent perhaps. This appears to have been 
a characteristic of all these Hudson’s Bay guns, 
as all that I have seen possessed it, and old men 
have told me they all had it. The design of the. 
beast is at first glance strongly suggestive of 
Chinese art, but while originally it may have 
been copied from something oriental, it is with¬ 
out doubt of European manufacture. Not far 
from where the gun was found lay a knife, evi¬ 
dently of the same period, and probably belong¬ 
ing to the same individual. On being cleaned 
and ground it proved to be of excellent steel. 
What was the fate that overtook the original 
owner of these relics in that wild spot? We can 
imagine him perishing in one of those sudden, 
merciless blizzards of winter or early spring, 
when a man caught out without warning and : 
without shelter, has but a fighting chance for ' 
his life. Starvation, an enraged silvertip or 
wounds received- in a skirmish with some strag¬ 
gling war party, from which he escaped only 
to die later in solitude; any one of these causes 
