him in 1855 to abandon life in Europe and bury himself for over two
years among the savages in the wildest and most unfrequented glens of
the Rocky Mountains.

The outfit and adventures of this titled Nimrod, conducted as they were
on the largest scale, exceeded anything of the kind ever before seen
on this continent, and the results of his wanderings will compare
favourably with those of Gordon Cumming in Africa.

Some idea may be formed of the magnitude of his outfit when it is
stated that his retinue consisted of about fifty individuals, including
secretaries, steward, cooks, fly-makers, dog-tenders, servants, etc.
He was borne over the country with a train of thirty wagons, besides
numerous saddle-horses and dogs.

During his lengthened hunt he killed the enormous aggregate of forty
grizzly bears and twenty-five hundred buffalo, besides numerous antelope
and other small game.

Bridger said of Sir George that he was a bold, dashing, and successful
hunter, and an agreeable gentleman. His habit was to lie in bed until
about ten or eleven o'clock in the morning, then he took a bath, ate his
breakfast, and set out, generally alone, for the day's hunt, and it was
not unusual for him to remain out until ten at night, seldom returning
to the tents without augmenting the catalogue of his beasts. His
dinner was then served, to which he generally extended an invitation to
Bridger, and after the meal was over, and a few glasses of wine had been
drunk, he was in the habit of reading from some book, and eliciting
from Bridger his comments thereon. His favourite author was Shakespeare,
which Bridger "reckin'd was too highfalutin" for him; moreover he
remarked, "thet he rather calcerlated that thar big Dutchman, Mr.
Full-stuff, was a leetle too fond of lager beer," and thought it would
have been better for the old man if he had "stuck to Bourbon whiskey
straight."

Bridger seemed very much interested in the adventures of Baron
Munchausen, but admitted after Sir George had finished reading them,
that "he be dog'oned ef he swallered everything that thar Baron
Munchausen said," and thought he was "a darned liar," yet he
acknowledged that some of his own adventures among the Blackfeet woul be
equally marvellous "if writ down in a book."

A man whose one act had made him awe-inspiring was Belzy Dodd. Uncle
Dick Wooton, in relating the story, says: "I don't know what his first
name was, but Belzy was what we called him. His head w