crowning lofty antlers. The shoulders and neck appeared black. He
raised his head, and turning, trotted away with ease and grace for
such a huge beast. That was a wild and beautiful sight I had not seen
before. We were entranced, and when he disappeared, we burst out with
exclamations.

We rode on toward camp, and out upon a bench that bordered the lofty
red wall of rock. From there we went down into heavy forest again, dim
and gray, with its dank, penetrating odor, and oppressive stillness.
The forest primeval! When we rode out of that into open slopes the
afternoon was far advanced, and long shadows lay across the distant
ranges. When we reached camp, supper and a fire to warm cold wet feet
were exceedingly welcome. I was tired.

Later, R.C. and I rode up a mile or so above camp, and hitched our
horses near Teague's old corral. Our intention was to hunt up along
the side of the slope. Teague came along presently. We waited, hoping
the big black clouds would break. But they did not. They rolled down
with gray, swirling edges, like smoke, and a storm enveloped us. We
sought shelter in a thick spruce. It rained and hailed. By and bye
the air grew bitterly cold, and Teague suggested we give up, and ride
back. So we did. The mountains were dim and obscure through the gray
gloom, and the black spear-tipped spruces looked ghostly against
the background. The lightning was vivid, and the thunder rolled and
crashed in magnificent bombardment across the heavens.

Next morning at six-thirty the sun was shining clear, and only a
few clouds sailed in the blue. Wind was in the west and the weather
promised fair. But clouds began to creep up behind the mountains,
first hazy, then white, then dark. Nevertheless we decided to ride