"What do you know about them?" I asked, very much pleased at this from
him.

"Well, I know all about them," he replied. "I'll have you the best horse
in this country in a few days. Fact is I've bought him, an' he'll come
with my cowboy, Vern.... Now, we're organized. Let's move."

[Illustration: A SPRUCE-SHADED, FLOWER-SKIRTED LAKE]

[Illustration: LOOKING DOWN UPON CLOUD-FILLED VALLEYS]

[Illustration: SEARCHING BURNED-OVER RANGES FOR GAME]

We rode through a meadow along a spruce slope above which towered the
great mountain. It was a zigzag trail, rough, boggy, and steep in
places. The Stillwater meandered here, and little breaks on the water
gave evidence of feeding trout. We had several miles of meadow, and
then sheered off to the left up into the timber. It was a spruce
forest, very still and fragrant. We climbed out up on a bench, and
across a flat, up another bench, out of the timber into the patches of
snow. Here snow could be felt in the air. Water was everywhere. I saw
a fox, a badger, and another furry creature, too illusive to name. One
more climb brought us to the top of the Flattop Pass, about eleven
thousand feet. The view in the direction from which we had come was
splendid, and led the eye to the distant sweeping ranges, dark and dim
along the horizon. The Flattops were flat enough, but not very wide
at this pass, and we were soon going down again into a green gulf
of spruce, with ragged peaks lifting beyond. Here again I got the
suggestion of limitless space. It took us an hour to ride down to