en, to find a dish of
smoking steaks of venison on the table. We ate like famished people,
and enjoyed our meal thoroughly. Just before I came the young men had
shot an elk, which they intended to sell in Denver, and the grand
carcass, with great branching antlers, hung outside the shed. Often
while vainly trying to swallow some pickled pork I had looked across to
the tantalizing animal, but it was not to be thought of. However, this
morning, as the young men felt the pinch of hunger even more than I
did, and the prospects of packing it to Denver became worse, they
decided on cutting into one side, so we shall luxuriate in venison
while it lasts. We think that Edwards will surely be up to-night, but
unless he brings supplies our case is looking serious. The flour is
running low, there is only coffee for one week, and I have only a
scanty three ounces of tea left. The baking powder is nearly at an
end. We have agreed to economize by breakfasting very late, and having
two meals a day instead of three. The young men went out hunting as
usual, and I went out and found Birdie, and on her brought in four
other horses, but the snow balled so badly that I went out and walked
across the river on a very passable ice bridge, and got some new views
of the unique grandeur of this place.

Our evenings are social and pleasant. We finish supper about eight,
and make up a huge fire. The men smoke while I write to you. Then we
draw near the fire and I take my endless mending, and we talk or read
aloud. Both are very intelligent, and Mr. Buchan has very extended
information and a good deal of insight into character. Of course our
circumstances, the likelihood of release, the prospects of snow
blocking us in and of our supplies holding out, the sick calves,
"Jim's" mood, the possible intentions of a man whose footprints we have
found and traced for three miles, are all topics that often recur, and
few of which can be worn threadbare.

Letter XV

A whisky slave--The pleasures of monotony--The mountain lion--"Another
mouth to feed"--A tiresome boy--An outcast--Thanksgiving Day--The
newcomer--A literary humbug--Milking a dry cow--Trout-fishing--A
snow-storm--A desperado's den.

ESTES PARK, Sunday.

A trapper passing last night brought us the news that Mr. Nugent is
ill; so, after washing up the things after our late breakfast, I rode
to his cabin, but I met him in the gulch coming down to see us. He
said he had cau