, but the wolves
were holding a carnival again last night, and we think that the horses
were scared and stampeded, as otherwise they would not have leaped the
fence. The men are losing their whole day in looking for them. On
their return they said that they had seen Mr. Nugent returning to his
cabin by the other side and the lower ford of the Thompson, and that he
had "an awfully ugly fit on him," so that they were glad that he did
not come near us. The evening is setting in sublime in its blackness.
Late in the afternoon I caught a horse which was snuffing at the sheaf
oats, and had a splendid gallop on the Longmount trail with the two
great hunting dogs. In returning, in the grimness of the coming storm,
I had that view of the park which I saw first in the glories of an
autumn sunset. Life was all dead; the dragon-flies no longer darted in
the sunshine, the cotton-woods had shed their last amber leaves, the
crimson trailers of the wild vines were bare, the stream itself had
ceased its tinkle and was numb in fetters of ice, a few withered flower
stalks only told of the brief bright glory of the summer. The park
never had looked so utterly walled in; it was fearful in its
loneliness, the ghastliest of white peaks lay sharply outlined against
the black snow clouds, the bright river was ice bound, the pines were
all black, the world was absolutely shut out. How can you expect me to
write letters from such a place, from a life "in which nothing
happens"? It really is strange that neither Evans nor Edwards come
back. The young men are grumbling, for they were asked to stay here
for five days, and they have been here five weeks, and they are anxious
to be away camping out for the hunting, on which they depend. There
are two calves dying, and we don't know what to do for them; and if a
very severe snow-storm comes on, we can't bring in and feed eight
hundred head of cattle.

Saturday.

The snow began to fall early this morning, and as it is unaccompanied
by wind we have the novel spectacle of a smooth white world; still it
does not look like anything serious. We have been gradually growing
later at night and later in the morning. To-day we did not breakfast
till ten. We have been becoming so disgusted with the pickled pork,
that we were glad to find it just at an end yesterday, even though we
were left without meat for which in this climate the system craves.
You can fancy my surprise, on going into the kitch