blasts hurled across the open gate to
Egeria Park were to the unprotected face like knife slashes.

For two days melted snow had served for cooking, drink for horses, and
washing purposes. A good square meal had been impossible to prepare, and
a hungry night was in prospect for both man and beast. The trapper
declared he would not turn the horses loose that night, so picking out a
sheltered place among the pine trees he tied up all but "Ned," Jack's
Indian pony, halter lengths, covered them with blankets and harnessed to
keep the blankets on. The tent was pitched in a long deep cut, dug into
an immense snow bank, to all appearances a part of the big drift after
it had been arranged for the night. The intensity of the cold was
estimated at fifty degrees below zero and six pair of double blankets
weighing eight pounds per pair were used as covering (Jack was actually
tired when he awoke, from the weight of the bedding). Single thicknesses
of blankets had to be drawn over the face to keep it from freezing. But
with all these hardships the young man from the "States" thrived and
grew hardy. No such thing as a cold or bodily ailment of any sort
attacked either one.

The next night found them camped in a protected ravine near a stream
from which water was obtained and some pretensions to comfort prevailed.
For the first time elk meat formed a part of the evening meal, and a
feeling of good cheer followed a hearty repast. The next morning as Jack
climbed the side of the long south slope, covered with stunted sage
brush, to get the horses that had found plenty of feed, he came face to
face with a tawny-skinned animal that came up out of one ravine as Jack
emerged from another, about a hundred yards apart. No firearms, not even
a hunting knife, were at hand. To flee would be but an invitation to
tempt the mountain lion to possible attack, so Jack sauntered along,
carelessly as he could under the circumstances, in the direction of the
ponies. The lion kept on his own course, crossing Jack's path and
eventually disappearing in a deep arroya, or gulch, all the while
turning his head from side to side watching but not attempting to molest
either Jack or the horses.

The next camping spot selected was on the bank of Rock Creek, where a
bend of the stream deflected by high rocks left a well timbered,
protected area, surrounded on three sides by precipitous slopes of the
adjacent "benches" covered with sage brush, these "benches" or