r hunt.

We were up and about next morning in the first faint gray light. While
the men fed grain to the horses and saddled them, we prepared a hasty
breakfast. We were off before it was more than light enough for us to
see the trail.

Dawn in the mountains--how I wish I could describe it to you! If I
could only make you feel the keen, bracing air, the exhilarating
climb; if I could only paint its beauties, what a picture you should
have! Here the colors are very different from those of the desert. I
suppose the forest makes it so. The shadows are mellow, like the
colors in an old picture--greenish amber light and a blue-gray sky.
Far ahead of us we could see the red rim rock of a mountain above
timber line. The first rays of the sun turned the jagged peaks into
golden points of a crown. In Oklahoma, at that hour of the day, the
woods would be alive with song-birds, even at this season; but here
there are no song-birds, and only the snapping of twigs, as our horses
climbed the frosty trail, broke the silence. We had been cautioned not
to talk, but neither Mrs. O'Shaughnessy nor I wanted to. Afterwards,
when we compared notes, we found that we both had the same thought: we
both felt ashamed to be out to deal death to one of the Maker's
beautiful creatures, and we were planning how we might avoid it.

The sun was well up when we reached the little park where we picketed
our horses. Then came a long, hard climb. It is hard climbing at the
best, and when there is a big gun to carry, it is _very_ hard. Then
too, we had to keep up with the men, and we didn't find that easy to
do. At last we reached the top and sat down on some boulders to rest a
few minutes before we started down to the hunting ground, which lay in
a cuplike valley far below us.

We could hear the roar of the Gros Ventre as it tumbled grumblingly
over its rocky bed. To our right rose mile after mile of red cliffs.
As the last of the quaking asp leaves have fallen, there were no
golden groves. In their places stood silvery patches against the red
background of the cliffs. High overhead a triangle of wild geese
harrowed the blue sky.

I was plumb out of breath, but men who are most gallant elsewhere are
absolutely heartless on a hunt. I was scarcely through panting before
we began to descend. We received instructions as to how we should move
so as to keep out of range of each other's guns; then Mr. Haynes and
myself started one way, and Mr. Struble and Mr