ep chocolate-brown, black
as against the crystalline purity of cloudless blue skies, rising in the
middle to vast rugged, irregular cones fourteen thousand feet above
tide. From the bewildering desolateness of these savage peaks the eye
wanders to the foot-hills, tree-clad with millions of pines, and lower
yet to the wide valley of the West Branch of Clarke's Fork of the
Yellowstone, through which a great stream rushes; and then, beyond the
river, park over park with gracious boundaries of fir and pine, and over
all black peak and snow-clad dome and slope, nameless, untrodden, an
infinite army of hills beyond hills. The startling combination of black
volcanic peaks with gray and tinted limestone still makes every mile of
the way strange and grand. In one place the dark rock-slopes end
abruptly in a wall of white limestone one hundred to two hundred feet
high and regular as ancient masonry. A little below was a second of
these singular dikes, which run for twenty miles or more.

On a rising ground where we halted to lunch a note was found stating
that Dr. T., failing to find game at the salt-lick, had gone on ahead.
While lingering over our lunch in leisurely fashion, encircled by this
great mass of snow and blackness, an orderly suddenly rode up to hasten
us to camp, as Indian signs had been seen down the valley. In a moment
we were running our horses over a sage-plain, and were soon in camp,
which was pitched on the West Branch in the widening valley. Dr. T. and
George Houston, it appeared, had seen a column of smoke four miles below
on a butte across the river. As the smoke was steady and did not spread,
like an accidental fire, it seemed wise to wait for the party. There
being no news of Indians, and no probability of white travellers, it was
well to be cautious. It might be a hunters' or prospectors' camp, or a
rallying-signal for scattered bands of Sioux, or a courier from Fort
Custer. The doubt was unpleasant, and its effect visible in the men, two
of whom already _saw_ Indians.

"See 'em?" says Jack. "Yes, they're like the Devil: you just doesn't see
'em!"

While we pitched camp sentinels were thrown out, and two guides went off
to investigate the cause of the fire. Houston came back in two hours,
and relieved us by his statement that no trails led to the fire, and
that its probable cause was the lightning of the storm which had
overtaken us in camp the day before.

As the day waned the tints of the great mou