sheet of water. The larger
lake was farther down. It was big, irregular, and bordered by spruce
forests, and shadowed by the lofty gray peaks.

The Camp was on the far side. The air appeared rather warm, and
mosquitoes bothered us. However, they did not stay long. It was after
sunset and I was too tired to have many impressions.

Our cook appeared to be a melancholy man. He had a deep quavering
voice, a long drooping mustache and sad eyes. He was silent most of
the time. The men called him Bill, and yelled when they spoke, for he
was somewhat deaf. It did not take me long to discover that he was a
good cook.

Our tent was pitched down the slope from the cook tent. We were too
tired to sit round a camp-fire and talk. The stars were white and
splendid, and they hung over the flat ridges like great beacon lights.
The lake appeared to be inclosed on three sides by amphitheatric
mountains, black with spruce up to the gray walls of rock. The night
grew cold and very still. The bells on the horses tinkled distantly.
There was a soft murmur of falling water. A lonesome coyote barked,
and that thrilled me. Teague's dogs answered this prowler, and some of
them had voices to make a hunter thrill. One, the bloodhound Cain, had
a roar like a lion's. I had not gotten acquainted with the hounds, and
I was thinking about them when I fell asleep.

Next morning I was up at five-thirty. The air was cold and nipping and
frost shone on grass and sage. A red glow of sunrise gleamed on the
tip of the mountain and slowly grew downward.

The cool handle of an axe felt good. I soon found, however, that I
could not wield it long for lack of breath. The elevation was close to
ten thousand feet and the air at that height was thin and rare. After
each series of lusty strokes I had to rest. R.C., who could handle
an axe as he used to swing a baseball bat, made fun of my efforts.
Whereupon I relinquished the tool to him, and chuckled at his
discomfiture.

After breakfast R.C. and I got out our tackles and rigged up fly rods,
and sallied forth to the lake with the same eagerness we had felt when
we were boys going after chubs and sunfish. The lake glistened green
in the sunlight and it lay like a gem at the foot of the magnificent
black slopes.

The water was full of little floating particles that Teague called
wild rice. I thought the lake had begun to work, like eastern lakes
during dog days. It did not look propitious for fishing, but Teagu