the Stewart escorted
us. It was a cloudy afternoon and often great flakes of snow fell
gently, softly. The snow was already about eighteen inches deep, and
it made sheep hunting slippery and dangerous work. On our way we came
upon an Indian camp. They were all huddled about a tiny fire;
scattered about were their wikiups made of sticks and pine boughs. The
Indians were sullen and angry. The game-warden had ordered them back
to Fort Washakie, where they belonged. Their squaws had jerked their
elk. You may not know what jerked means, so I will explain: it means
dried, cured. They had all they were allowed, but for some reason they
didn't want to go. Sorenson suspects them of being in with the
tooth-hunters and he is narrowing the circle.

At the camp where we were to stay, we found Mrs. Kavanaugh laid up
with a sore throat, but she made us welcome. It would be a mighty
funny camper who wouldn't. As soon as the men from the Kavanaugh camp
heard our men's plans, they were eager to go along. So it ended in us
three women being left alone. We said we were not afraid and we tried
not to feel so, but after dark we all felt a little timorous. Mrs.
Kavanaugh was afraid of the Indians, but I was afraid they would bring
Clyde back dead from a fall. We were camped in an old cabin built by
the ranger. The Kavanaughs were short of groceries. We cooked our big
elk steaks on sticks before an open fire, and we roasted potatoes in
the ashes. When our fear wore away, we had a fine time. After a while
we lay down on fragrant beds of pine.

We awoke late. The fire was dead upon the hearth and outside the snow
was piling up. Mrs. O'Shaughnessy made a rousing fire and managed to
jolly us until we had a really happy breakfast hour. About three in
the afternoon all the men came trooping in, cold, wet, and hungry.
After filling them with venison, hot potatoes, and coffee, we started
to our own camp. The men were rather depressed because they had come
back empty-handed. The Indians were gone and the snow lay thick over
the place where their fire had been; they had left in the night.

When we came to camp, Mr. Struble started to build a fire; but no
matches were to be had. Next, the men went to feed grain to their
tired horses, but the oats were gone. Mr. Murry sought in vain for his
beloved accordion. Mr. Harkrudder was furious when he found his
grinding machine was gone. Mrs. O'Shaughnessy made a dash for the
grub-box. It was empty. We were du