poke of the subject. Eventually he asked for a private conference,
when he told me, with some confusion, that he had found himself "very
hard up" in Denver, and had been obliged to appropriate my 100-dollar
note. He said he would give me, as interest for it up to November
25th, a good horse, saddle, and bridle for my proposed journey of 600
miles. I was somewhat dismayed, but there was no other course, as the
money was gone.

[16] I tried a horse, mended my clothes, reduced my pack to a weight of
twelve pounds, and was all ready for an early start, when before
daylight I was wakened by Evans's cheery voice at my door. "I say,
Miss B., we've got to drive wild cattle to-day; I wish you'd lend a
hand, there's not enough of us; I'll give you a good horse; one day
won't make much difference." So we've been driving cattle all day,
riding about twenty miles, and fording the Big Thompson about as many
times. Evans flatters me by saying that I am "as much use as another
man"; more than one of our party, I hope, who always avoided the "ugly"
cows.

[16] In justice to Evans, I must mention here that every cent of the
money was ultimately paid, that the horse was perfection, and that the
arrangement turned out a most advantageous one for me.

October 12.

I am still here, helping in the kitchen, driving cattle, and riding
four or five times a day. Evans detains me each morning by saying,
"Here's lots of horses for you to try," and after trying five or six a
day, I do not find one to my liking. Today, as I was cantering a tall
well-bred one round the lake, he threw the bridle off by a toss of his
head, leaving me with the reins in my hands; one bucked, and two have
tender feet, and tumbled down. Such are some of our little varieties.
Still I hope to get off on my tour in a day or two, so at least as to
be able to compare Estes Park with some of the better-known parts of
Colorado.

You would be amused if you could see our cabin just now. There are
nine men in the room and three women. For want of seats most of the
men are lying on the floor; all are smoking, and the blithe young
French Canadian who plays so beautifully, and catches about fifty
speckled trout for each meal, is playing the harmonium with a pipe in
his mouth. Three men who have camped in Black Canyon for a week are
lying like dogs on the floor. They are all over six feet high,
immovably solemn, neither smiling at the general hilarity, nor at the
ab