. As I saw a long, black, lean
creature muzzling at something on the ground, I began to get excited
myself.

"I guess we better let him go, hadn't we?" said Burton.

"Well, yes, as the cartridge is stuck in the gun; and so long as he
lets us alone I think we had better let him alone, especially as his
hide is worth nothing at this season of the year, and he is too thin
to make steak."

The situation was getting comic, but probably it is well that the
cartridge failed to go in. Burton stuck his head out of the tent,
gave a sharp yell, and the huge creature vanished in the dark of the
forest. The whole adventure came about naturally. The smell of our
frying meat had gone far up over the hills to our right and off into
the great wilderness, alluring this lean hungry beast out of his den.
Doubtless if Burton had been able to fire a shot into his woolly
hide, we should have had a rare "mix up" of bear, tent, men,
mattresses, and blankets.

Mosquitoes increased, and, strange to say, they seemed to like the
shade. They were all of the big, black, lazy variety. We came upon
flights of humming-birds. I was rather tired of the saddle, and of
the slow jog, jog, jog. But at last there came an hour which made the
trouble worth while. When our camp was set, our fire lighted, our
supper eaten, and we could stretch out and watch the sun go down over
the hills beyond the river, then the day seemed well spent. At such
an hour we grew reminiscent of old days, and out of our talk an
occasional verse naturally rose.

MOMENTOUS HOUR

A coyote wailing in the yellow dawn,
A mountain land that stretches on and on,
And ceases not till in the skies
Vast peaks of rosy snow arise,
Like walls of plainsman's paradise.

I cannot tell why this is so;
I cannot say, I do not know
Why wind and wolf and yellow sky,
And grassy mesa, square and high,
Possess such power to satisfy.

But so it is. Deep in the grass
I lie and hear the winds' feet pass;
And all forgot is maid and man,
And hope and set ambitious plan
Are lost as though they ne'er began.

A WISH

All day and many days I rode,
My horse's head set toward the sea;
And as I rode a longing came to me
That I might keep the sunset road,
Riding my horse right on and on,
O'ertake the day still lagging at the west,
And so reach boyhood from the dawn,
And be with all the days a