E. left us, going on
with Mr. Jump for a two days' hunt.

Next day, at 7 A. M., we rode away over little prairies and across low
pine-clad hills, and saw to right and left tiny parks with their forest
boundaries, until, after two miles, we came to Pelican Creek, a broad
grayish stream, having, notwithstanding its swift current, a look of
being meant by Nature for stagnation. As we followed this
unwholesome-looking water eastward we crossed some quaking, ill-smelling
morasses, and at last rode out on a spacious plain, with Mounts
Langford, Doane and Stevenson far to the south-east, and Mount Sheridan
almost south-west of us. The first three are bold peaks, while about
them lie lesser hills numberless and nameless. The day seemed absolutely
clear, yet the mountains were mere serrated silhouettes, dim with a
silvery haze, through which gleamed the whiter silver of snow in patches
or filling the long ravines. Striking across the plain, we came upon a
tent and the horses of Captain G. and Mr. E., who were away in the
hills.

Thence we followed the Pelican Valley, which had broadened to a wide
meadowy plain, and about ten miles from the camp we began a rough ride
up the lessening creek from the level. The valley was half a mile wide,
noisome with sulphur springs and steam-vents, with now and then a
gayly-tinted hill-slope, colored like the canyon of the Yellowstone. Some
one seeing deer above us on the hills, Dr. T., Mr. K. and Houston rode
off in pursuit. Presently came a dozen shots far above us, and the
major, who had followed the hunters, sent his orderly back for
pack-mules to carry the two black-tailed deer they had killed. After a
wild scramble through bogs we began to ascend a narrow valley with the
creek on our left. Jack Baronette "guessed some timber might have fell
on that trail." Trail there was none in reality, only steep hillsides of
soft scoriae, streaming sulphur-vents and a cat's cradle of tumbled dead
trees. Every few minutes the axes were ringing, and a way was cleared;
then another halt, and more axe-work, until we slipped and scrambled and
stumbled on to a little better ground, to the comfort of man and beast.

Eighteen miles of this savage riding brought us to our next camp, where,
as the shooting was said to be good and the cattle needed rest, it was
decided to remain two days. Our tents were pitched on a grassy knoll
overlooking the main valley, which was bounded by hills of some three or
four hund