o'clock, and we rode and rode
and rode, until I was so tired that I could not appreciate the scenes
as I had on the way up. It took six hours to get back to camp!

Next morning we took the hounds and rode off for bear. Eight of the
hounds were chained in braces, one big and one little dog together,
and they certainly had a hard time of it. Sampson, the giant gray and
brown hound, and Jim, the old black leader, were free to run to and
fro across the way. We rode down a few miles, and into the forest.
There were two long, black ridges, and here we were to hunt for bear.
It was the hardest kind of work, turning and twisting between the
trees, dodging snags, and brushing aside branches, and guiding a horse
among fallen logs. The forest was thick, and the ground was a rich
brown and black muck, soft to the horses' feet. Many times the hounds
got caught on snags, and had to be released. Once Sampson picked up a
scent of some kind, and went off baying. Old Jim ran across that trail
and returned, thus making it clear that there was no bear trail. We
penetrated deep between the two ridges, and came to a little lake,
about thirty feet wide, surrounded by rushes and grass. Here we rested
the horses, and incidentally, ourselves. Fox chased a duck, and it
flew into the woods and hid under a log. Fox trailed it, and Teague
shot it just as he might have a rabbit. We got two more ducks, fine
big mallards, the same way. It was amazing to me, and R.C. remarked
that never had he seen such strange and foolish ducks.

This forest had hundreds of trees barked by porcupines, and some clear
to the top. But we met only one of the animals, and he left several
quills in the nose of one of the pups. I was of the opinion that these
porcupines destroy many fine trees, as I saw a number barked all
around.

We did not see any bear sign. On the way back to camp we rode out of
the forest and down a wide valley, the opposite side of which was open
slope with patches of alder. Even at a distance I could discern the
color of these open glades and grassy benches. They had a tinge of
purple, like purple sage. When I got to them I found a profusion of
asters of the most exquisite shades of lavender, pink and purple. That
slope was long, and all the way up we rode through these beautiful
wild flowers. I shall never forget that sight, nor the many asters
that shone like stars out of the green. The pink ones were new to me,
and actually did not seem real. I n