swept all over mountains and snow fell on ground, on mountain top.

"When Red Eagle papoose find out Aggretta lost on mountain, his heart on
ground. He get dried sheep and roots and great bow and arrows, flint
arrows, and go to Aggretta."

Fascinated, I listened, oblivious to everything but her story, which I
shall have to put into my own words: "Swift as the mountain ram he
climbs the rugged rocks and takes the trail to the great shrine wheel.
Soon he finds her moccasin tracks, and with all the fleetness of an
Indian runner he climbs the rocky trail, here and there stooping to find
a footmark, the breaking of a piece of moss, or the displacing of a
small stone. The bent grass in places showed the direction in which
Aggretta had gone. With bow and arrow he glided on and up. Soon he came
to the snow line, where the trail became more precipitous and the snow
deeper. He stopped and wildly blew his cedar horn, but no answer came.
The storm had abated and the sun's warm rays were making the snow soft.
All impressions and trails were obliterated. The reflection of the sun
on the snow was blinding. After a careful survey, he struggled on up the
trail, whose serpentine twists wound in and out through trees and
canyons and dazzling snow until he was almost blinded.

"Entering a narrow canyon filled with fir and spruce trees, he stopped
in this haven to rest his tired eyes. When his vision had cleared, his
heart gave a bound; he thought he could see a moccasin track ahead in
the trail. He was off like a deer, and in a moment he was scraping the
soft snow away to find--the tracks of a terrible grizzly. Now he knew
there was trouble ahead, for he felt sure the bear would follow
Aggretta's trail. His suspicions proved correct, and mile after mile he
followed the trail, until he came to the camping ground where the Sheep
Eaters met twice a year to worship. Just as he reached an elevated spot
he heard the scream of his Aggretta, and starting in the direction from
which it came, he saw the grizzly coming straight for him. He brought
his long bow to his face and placed the great jagged arrow against the
sinew. Dropping on his back, with both feet against the bow and both
hands on the sinew, he bent the bow until the arrow was just at full
length and the flint touched the bow; then, letting the bear have the
shaft full in the breast, he jumped like a cat to one side, and the bear
passed. One terrible roar told that the grizzly had been