rtly as a joke and partly in earnest, they would mail me
a package of something to eat, whenever they knew at what post-office
I was likely to turn up. At Alma, the morning I hired Midget, the
prize package which I drew from the post-office contained salted
peanuts. I did not care for them, but put them into my pocket. It was
past noon and Midget was hungry. I was chattering away to her about
picture-taking when, feeling her rubbing me with her nose, I put my
hand around to find that she was eating salted peanuts from my big
coat-pocket. Midget enjoyed them so much that I allowed her to put
her nose into my pocket and help herself, and from time to time, too,
I gave her a handful of them until they were all gone.

Late in the afternoon, Midget and I arrived at the top of Hoosier
Pass. I told her to look tired and I would take her picture. She
dropped her head and neck a little, and there on the wind-swept pass,
with the wind-swept peaks in the background, I photographed her. Then
I told her it was time to go home, that it was sure to be after dark
before she could get back. So I tightened the cinches, fastened up the
bridle-rein over the horn of the saddle, and told her to go. She
looked around at me, but did not move. Evidently she preferred to stay
with me. So I spoke to her sternly and said, "Midget, you will have
to go home!" Without even looking round, she kicked up her heels and
trotted speedily down the mountain and disappeared. I did not imagine
that we would meet again for some time.

I went on, and at timber-line on Mt. Lincoln I built a camp-fire and
without bedding spent the night by it. The next day I climbed several
peaks, took many photographs, measured many snowdrifts, and made many
notes in my notebook. When night came on, I descended from the crags
and snows into the woods, built a fire, and spent the night by it,
sleeping for a little while at a time. Awakening with the cold, I
would get up and revive my fire, and then lie down to sleep. The next
day a severe storm came on, and I was compelled to huddle by my fire
all day, for the wind was so fierce and the snow so blinding that it
would have been extremely risky to try to cross the craggy and
slippery mountain-summits. All that day I stayed by the fire, but that
night, instead of trying to get a little sleep there, I crawled into a
newly formed snowdrift, and in it slept soundly and quite comfortably
until morning. Toward noon the storm ceased, but