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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/465-8.txt b/465-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..be2af10 --- /dev/null +++ b/465-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5847 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mountains, by Stewart Edward White + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Mountains + +Author: Stewart Edward White + +Posting Date: October 9, 2008 [EBook #465] +Release Date: March, 1996 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOUNTAINS *** + + + + +Produced by Dianne Bean. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + +THE MOUNTAINS + + +BY + +STEWART EDWARD WHITE + + + +AUTHOR OF + +"THE BLAZED TRAIL," "SILENT PLACES," "THE FOREST," ETC. + + + + + +PREFACE + +The author has followed a true sequence of events practically in all +particulars save in respect to the character of the Tenderfoot. He is +in one sense fictitious; in another sense real. He is real in that he +is the apotheosis of many tenderfeet, and that everything he does in +this narrative he has done at one time or another in the author's +experience. He is fictitious in the sense that he is in no way to be +identified with the third member of our party in the actual trip. + + + +CONTENTS + + I. THE RIDGE TRAIL + II. ON EQUIPMENT + III. ON HORSES + IV. HOW TO GO ABOUT IT + V. THE COAST RANGES + VI. THE INFERNO + VII. THE FOOT-HILLS + VIII. THE PINES + IX. THE TRAIL + X. ON SEEING DEER + XI. ON TENDERFEET + XII. THE CAŅON + XIII. TROUT, BUCKSKIN, AND PROSPECTORS + XIV. ON CAMP COOKERY + XV. ON THE WIND AT NIGHT + XVI. THE VALLEY + XVII. THE MAIN CREST + XVIII. THE GIANT FOREST + XIX. ON COWBOYS + XX. THE GOLDEN TROUT + XXI. ON GOING OUT + XXII. THE LURE OF THE TRAIL + + + + +THE MOUNTAINS + + + +I + +THE RIDGE TRAIL + +Six trails lead to the main ridge. They are all good trails, so that +even the casual tourist in the little Spanish-American town on the +seacoast need have nothing to fear from the ascent. In some spots they +contract to an arm's length of space, outside of which limit they drop +sheer away; elsewhere they stand up on end, zigzag in lacets each more +hair-raising than the last, or fill to demoralization with loose +boulders and shale. A fall on the part of your horse would mean a more +than serious accident; but Western horses do not fall. The major +premise stands: even the casual tourist has no real reason for fear, +however scared he may become. + +Our favorite route to the main ridge was by a way called the Cold +Spring Trail. We used to enjoy taking visitors up it, mainly because +you come on the top suddenly, without warning. Then we collected +remarks. Everybody, even the most stolid, said something. + +You rode three miles on the flat, two in the leafy and gradually +ascending creek-bed of a caņon, a half hour of laboring steepness in +the overarching mountain lilac and laurel. There you came to a great +rock gateway which seemed the top of the world. At the gateway was a +Bad Place where the ponies planted warily their little hoofs, and the +visitor played "eyes front," and besought that his mount should not +stumble. + +Beyond the gateway a lush level caņon into which you plunged as into a +bath; then again the laboring trail, up and always up toward the blue +California sky, out of the lilacs, and laurels, and redwood chaparral +into the manzanita, the Spanish bayonet, the creamy yucca, and the fine +angular shale of the upper regions. Beyond the apparent summit you +found always other summits yet to be climbed. And all at once, like +thrusting your shoulders out of a hatchway, you looked over the top. + +Then came the remarks. Some swore softly; some uttered appreciative +ejaculation; some shouted aloud; some gasped; one man uttered three +times the word "Oh,"--once breathlessly, Oh! once in awakening +appreciation, OH! once in wild enthusiasm, OH! Then invariably they +fell silent and looked. + +For the ridge, ascending from seaward in a gradual coquetry of +foot-hills, broad low ranges, cross-systems, caņons, little flats, and +gentle ravines, inland dropped off almost sheer to the river below. +And from under your very feet rose, range after range, tier after tier, +rank after rank, in increasing crescendo of wonderful tinted mountains +to the main crest of the Coast Ranges, the blue distance, the +mightiness of California's western systems. The eye followed them up +and up, and farther and farther, with the accumulating emotion of a +wild rush on a toboggan. There came a point where the fact grew to be +almost too big for the appreciation, just as beyond a certain point +speed seems to become unbearable. It left you breathless, +wonder-stricken, awed. You could do nothing but look, and look, and +look again, tongue-tied by the impossibility of doing justice to what +you felt. And in the far distance, finally, your soul, grown big in a +moment, came to rest on the great precipices and pines of the greatest +mountains of all, close under the sky. + +In a little, after the change had come to you, a change definite and +enduring, which left your inner processes forever different from what +they had been, you turned sharp to the west and rode five miles along +the knife-edge Ridge Trail to where Rattlesnake Caņon led you down and +back to your accustomed environment. + +To the left as you rode you saw, far on the horizon, rising to the +height of your eye, the mountains of the channel islands. Then the +deep sapphire of the Pacific, fringed with the soft, unchanging white +of the surf and the yellow of the shore. Then the town like a little +map, and the lush greens of the wide meadows, the fruit-groves, the +lesser ranges--all vivid, fertile, brilliant, and pulsating with +vitality. You filled your senses with it, steeped them in the beauty of +it. And at once, by a mere turn of the eyes, from the almost crude +insistence of the bright primary color of life, you faced the tenuous +azures of distance, the delicate mauves and amethysts, the lilacs and +saffrons of the arid country. + +This was the wonder we never tired of seeing for ourselves, of showing +to others. And often, academically, perhaps a little wistfully, as one +talks of something to be dreamed of but never enjoyed, we spoke of how +fine it would be to ride down into that land of mystery and +enchantment, to penetrate one after another the caņons dimly outlined +in the shadows cast by the westering sun, to cross the mountains lying +outspread in easy grasp of the eye, to gain the distant blue Ridge, and +see with our own eyes what lay beyond. + +For to its other attractions the prospect added that of impossibility, +of unattainableness. These rides of ours were day rides. We had to +get home by nightfall. Our horses had to be fed, ourselves to be +housed. We had not time to continue on down the other side whither the +trail led. At the very and literal brink of achievement we were forced +to turn back. + +Gradually the idea possessed us. We promised ourselves that some day +we would explore. In our after-dinner smokes we spoke of it. +Occasionally, from some hunter or forest-ranger, we gained little items +of information, we learned the fascination of musical names--Mono +Caņon, Patrera Don Victor, Lloma Paloma, Patrera Madulce, Cuyamas, +became familiar to us as syllables. We desired mightily to body them +forth to ourselves as facts. The extent of our mental vision expanded. +We heard of other mountains far beyond these farthest--mountains whose +almost unexplored vastnesses contained great forests, mighty valleys, +strong water-courses, beautiful hanging-meadows, deep caņons of +granite, eternal snows,--mountains so extended, so wonderful, that +their secrets offered whole summers of solitary exploration. We came +to feel their marvel, we came to respect the inferno of the Desert that +hemmed them in. Shortly we graduated from the indefiniteness of +railroad maps to the intricacies of geological survey charts. The +fever was on us. We must go. + +A dozen of us desired. Three of us went; and of the manner of our +going, and what you must know who would do likewise, I shall try here +to tell. + + + +II + +ON EQUIPMENT + +If you would travel far in the great mountains where the trails are few +and bad, you will need a certain unique experience and skill. Before +you dare venture forth without a guide, you must be able to do a number +of things, and to do them well. + +First and foremost of all, you must be possessed of that strange sixth +sense best described as the sense of direction. By it you always know +about where you are. It is to some degree a memory for back-tracks and +landmarks, but to a greater extent an instinct for the lay of the +country, for relative bearings, by which you are able to make your way +across-lots back to your starting-place. It is not an uncommon +faculty, yet some lack it utterly. If you are one of the latter class, +do not venture, for you will get lost as sure as shooting, and being +lost in the mountains is no joke. + +Some men possess it; others do not. The distinction seems to be almost +arbitrary. It can be largely developed, but only in those with whom +original endowment of the faculty makes development possible. No matter +how long a direction-blind man frequents the wilderness, he is never +sure of himself. Nor is the lack any reflection on the intelligence. I +once traveled in the Black Hills with a young fellow who himself +frankly confessed that after much experiment he had come to the +conclusion he could not "find himself." He asked me to keep near him, +and this I did as well as I could; but even then, three times during +the course of ten days he lost himself completely in the tumultuous +upheavals and caņons of that badly mixed region. Another, an old +grouse-hunter, walked twice in a circle within the confines of a thick +swamp about two miles square. On the other hand, many exhibit almost +marvelous skill in striking a bee-line for their objective point, and +can always tell you, even after an engrossing and wandering hunt, +exactly where camp lies. And I know nothing more discouraging than to +look up after a long hard day to find your landmarks changed in +appearance, your choice widened to at least five diverging and similar +caņons, your pockets empty of food, and the chill mountain twilight +descending. + +Analogous to this is the ability to follow a dim trail. A trail in the +mountains often means merely a way through, a route picked out by some +prospector, and followed since at long intervals by chance travelers. + +It may, moreover, mean the only way through. Missing it will bring you +to ever-narrowing ledges, until at last you end at a precipice, and +there is no room to turn your horses around for the return. Some of +the great box caņons thousands of feet deep are practicable by but one +passage,--and that steep and ingenious in its utilization of ledges, +crevices, little ravines, and "hog's-backs"; and when the only +indications to follow consist of the dim vestiges left by your last +predecessor, perhaps years before, the affair becomes one of +considerable skill and experience. You must be able to pick out +scratches made by shod hoofs on the granite, depressions almost filled +in by the subsequent fall of decayed vegetation, excoriations on fallen +trees. You must have the sense to know AT ONCE when you have overrun +these indications, and the patience to turn back immediately to your +last certainty, there to pick up the next clue, even if it should take +you the rest of the day. In short, it is absolutely necessary that you +be at least a persistent tracker. + +Parenthetically; having found the trail, be charitable. Blaze it, if +there are trees; otherwise "monument" it by piling rocks on top of one +another. Thus will those who come after bless your unknown shade. + +Third, you must know horses. I do not mean that you should be a +horse-show man, with a knowledge of points and pedigrees. But you must +learn exactly what they can and cannot do in the matters of carrying +weights, making distance, enduring without deterioration hard climbs in +high altitudes; what they can or cannot get over in the way of bad +places. This last is not always a matter of appearance merely. Some +bits of trail, seeming impassable to anything but a goat, a Western +horse will negotiate easily; while others, not particularly terrifying +in appearance, offer complications of abrupt turn or a single bit of +unstable, leg-breaking footing which renders them exceedingly +dangerous. You must, moreover, be able to manage your animals to the +best advantage in such bad places. Of course you must in the beginning +have been wise as to the selection of the horses. + +Fourth, you must know good horse-feed when you see it. Your animals +are depending entirely on the country; for of course you are carrying +no dry feed for them. Their pasturage will present itself under a +variety of aspects, all of which you must recognize with certainty. +Some of the greenest, lushest, most satisfying-looking meadows grow +nothing but water-grasses of large bulk but small nutrition; while +apparently barren tracts often conceal small but strong growths of +great value. You must differentiate these. + +Fifth, you must possess the ability to pare a hoof, fit a shoe cold, +nail it in place. A bare hoof does not last long on the granite, and +you are far from the nearest blacksmith. Directly in line with this, +you must have the trick of picking up and holding a hoof without being +kicked, and you must be able to throw and tie without injuring him any +horse that declines to be shod in any other way. + +Last, you must of course be able to pack a horse well, and must know +four or five of the most essential pack-"hitches." + +With this personal equipment you ought to be able to get through the +country. It comprises the absolutely essential. + +But further, for the sake of the highest efficiency, you should add, as +finish to your mountaineer's education, certain other items. A +knowledge of the habits of deer and the ability to catch trout with +fair certainty are almost a necessity when far from the base of +supplies. Occasionally the trail goes to pieces entirely: there you +must know something of the handling of an axe and pick. Learn how to +swim a horse. You will have to take lessons in camp-fire cookery. +Otherwise employ a guide. Of course your lungs, heart, and legs must +be in good condition. + +As to outfit, certain especial conditions will differentiate your needs +from those of forest and canoe travel. + +You will in the changing altitudes be exposed to greater variations in +temperature. At morning you may travel in the hot arid foot-hills; at +noon you will be in the cool shades of the big pines; towards evening +you may wallow through snowdrifts; and at dark you may camp where +morning will show you icicles hanging from the brinks of little +waterfalls. Behind your saddle you will want to carry a sweater, or +better still a buckskin waistcoat. Your arms are never cold anyway, +and the pockets of such a waistcoat, made many and deep, are handy +receptacles for smokables, matches, cartridges, and the like. For the +night-time, when the cold creeps down from the high peaks, you should +provide yourself with a suit of very heavy underwear and an extra +sweater or a buckskin shirt. The latter is lighter, softer, and more +impervious to the wind than the sweater. Here again I wish to place +myself on record as opposed to a coat. It is a useless ornament, +assumed but rarely, and then only as substitute for a handier garment. + +Inasmuch as you will be a great deal called on to handle abrading and +sometimes frozen ropes, you will want a pair of heavy buckskin +gauntlets. An extra pair of stout high-laced boots with small +Hungarian hob-nails will come handy. It is marvelous how quickly +leather wears out in the downhill friction of granite and shale. I +once found the heels of a new pair of shoes almost ground away by a +single giant-strides descent of a steep shale-covered +thirteen-thousand-foot mountain. Having no others I patched them with +hair-covered rawhide and a bit of horseshoe. It sufficed, but was a +long and disagreeable job which an extra pair would have obviated. + +Balsam is practically unknown in the high hills, and the rocks are +especially hard. Therefore you will take, in addition to your gray +army-blanket, a thick quilt or comforter to save your bones. This, +with your saddle-blankets and pads as foundation, should give you +ease--if you are tough. Otherwise take a second quilt. + +A tarpaulin of heavy canvas 17 x 6 feet goes under you, and can be, if +necessary, drawn up to cover your head. We never used a tent. Since +you do not have to pack your outfit on your own back, you can, if you +choose, include a small pillow. Your other personal belongings are +those you would carry into the Forest. I have elsewhere described what +they should be. + +Now as to the equipment for your horses. + +The most important point for yourself is your riding-saddle. The +cowboy or military style and seat are the only practicable ones. +Perhaps of these two the cowboy saddle is the better, for the simple +reason that often in roping or leading a refractory horse, the horn is +a great help. For steep-trail work the double cinch is preferable to +the single, as it need not be pulled so tight to hold the saddle in +place. + +Your riding-bridle you will make of an ordinary halter by riveting two +snaps to the lower part of the head-piece just above the corners of the +horse's mouth. These are snapped into the rings of the bit. At night +you unsnap the bit, remove it and the reins, and leave the halter part +on the horse. Each animal, riding and packing, has furthermore a short +lead-rope attached always to his halter-ring. + +Of pack-saddles the ordinary sawbuck tree is by all odds the best, +provided it fits. It rarely does. If you can adjust the wood +accurately to the anatomy of the individual horse, so that the side +pieces bear evenly and smoothly without gouging the withers or chafing +the back, you are possessed of the handiest machine made for the +purpose. Should individual fitting prove impracticable, get an old LOW +California riding-tree and have a blacksmith bolt an upright spike on +the cantle. You can hang the loops of the kyacks or alforjas--the +sacks slung on either side the horse--from the pommel and this iron +spike. Whatever the saddle chosen, it should be supplied with +breast-straps, breeching, and two good cinches. + +The kyacks or alforjas just mentioned are made either of heavy canvas, +or of rawhide shaped square and dried over boxes. After drying, the +boxes are removed, leaving the stiff rawhide like small trunks open at +the top. I prefer the canvas, for the reason that they can be folded +and packed for railroad transportation. If a stiffer receptacle is +wanted for miscellaneous loose small articles, you can insert a +soap-box inside the canvas. It cannot be denied that the rawhide will +stand rougher usage. + +Probably the point now of greatest importance is that of +saddle-padding. A sore back is the easiest thing in the world to +induce,--three hours' chafing will turn the trick,--and once it is done +you are in trouble for a month. No precautions or pains are too great +to take in assuring your pack-animals against this. On a pinch you +will give up cheerfully part of your bedding to the cause. However, +two good-quality woolen blankets properly and smoothly folded, a pad +made of two ordinary collar-pads sewed parallel by means of canvas +strips in such a manner as to lie along both sides of the backbone, a +well-fitted saddle, and care in packing will nearly always suffice. I +have gone months without having to doctor a single abrasion. + +You will furthermore want a pack-cinch and a pack-rope for each horse. +The former are of canvas or webbing provided with a ring at one end and +a big bolted wooden hook at the other. The latter should be half-inch +lines of good quality. Thirty-three feet is enough for packing only; +but we usually bought them forty feet long, so they could be used also +as picket-ropes. Do not fail to include several extra. They are +always fraying out, getting broken, being cut to free a fallen horse, +or becoming lost. + +Besides the picket-ropes, you will also provide for each horse a pair +of strong hobbles. Take them to a harness-maker and have him sew +inside each ankle-band a broad strip of soft wash-leather twice the +width of the band. This will save much chafing. Some advocate +sheepskin with the wool on, but this I have found tends to soak up +water or to freeze hard. At least two loud cow-bells with neck-straps +are handy to assist you in locating whither the bunch may have strayed +during the night. They should be hung on the loose horses most +inclined to wander. + +Accidents are common in the hills. The repair-kit is normally rather +comprehensive. Buy a number of extra latigos, or cinch-straps. +Include many copper rivets of all sizes--they are the best quick-repair +known for almost everything, from putting together a smashed +pack-saddle to cobbling a worn-out boot. Your horseshoeing outfit +should be complete with paring-knife, rasp, nail-set, clippers, hammer, +nails, and shoes. The latter will be the malleable soft iron, +low-calked "Goodenough," which can be fitted cold. Purchase a dozen +front shoes and a dozen and a half hind shoes. The latter wear out +faster on the trail. A box or so of hob-nails for your own boots, a +waxed end and awl, a whetstone, a file, and a piece of buckskin for +strings and patches complete the list. + +Thus equipped, with your grub supply, your cooking-utensils, your +personal effects, your rifle and your fishing-tackle, you should be +able to go anywhere that man and horses can go, entirely self-reliant, +independent of the towns. + + + +III + +ON HORSES + +I really believe that you will find more variation of individual and +interesting character in a given number of Western horses than in an +equal number of the average men one meets on the street. Their whole +education, from the time they run loose on the range until the time +when, branded, corralled, broken, and saddled, they pick their way +under guidance over a bad piece of trail, tends to develop their +self-reliance. They learn to think for themselves. + +To begin with two misconceptions, merely by way of clearing the ground: +the Western horse is generally designated as a "bronco." The term is +considered synonymous of horse or pony. This is not so. A horse is +"bronco" when he is ugly or mean or vicious or unbroken. So is a cow +"bronco" in the same condition, or a mule, or a burro. Again, from +certain Western illustrators and from a few samples, our notion of the +cow-pony has become that of a lean, rangy, wiry, thin-necked, scrawny +beast. Such may be found. But the average good cow-pony is apt to be +an exceedingly handsome animal, clean-built, graceful. This is +natural, when you stop to think of it, for he is descended direct from +Moorish and Arabian stock. + +Certain characteristics he possesses beyond the capabilities of the +ordinary horse. The most marvelous to me of these is his +sure-footedness. Let me give you a few examples. + +I once was engaged with a crew of cowboys in rounding up mustangs in +southern Arizona. We would ride slowly in through the hills until we +caught sight of the herds. Then it was a case of running them down and +heading them off, of turning the herd, milling it, of rushing it while +confused across country and into the big corrals. The surface of the +ground was composed of angular volcanic rocks about the size of your +two fists, between which the bunch-grass sprouted. An Eastern rider +would ride his horse very gingerly and at a walk, and then thank his +lucky stars if he escaped stumbles. The cowboys turned their mounts +through at a dead run. It was beautiful to see the ponies go, lifting +their feet well up and over, planting them surely and firmly, and +nevertheless making speed and attending to the game. Once, when we had +pushed the herd up the slope of a butte, it made a break to get through +a little hog-back. The only way to head it was down a series of rough +boulder ledges laid over a great sheet of volcanic rock. The man at +the hog-back put his little gray over the ledges and boulders, down the +sheet of rock,--hop, slip, slide,--and along the side hill in time to +head off the first of the mustangs. During the ten days of riding I +saw no horse fall. The animal I rode, Button by name, never even +stumbled. + +In the Black Hills years ago I happened to be one of the inmates of a +small mining-camp. Each night the work-animals, after being fed, were +turned loose in the mountains. As I possessed the only cow-pony in the +outfit, he was fed in the corral, and kept up for the purpose of +rounding up the others. Every morning one of us used to ride him out +after the herd. Often it was necessary to run him at full speed along +the mountain-side, over rocks, boulders, and ledges, across ravines and +gullies. Never but once in three months did he fall. + +On the trail, too, they will perform feats little short of marvelous. +Mere steepness does not bother them at all. They sit back almost on +their haunches, bunch their feet together, and slide. I have seen them +go down a hundred feet this way. In rough country they place their +feet accurately and quickly, gauge exactly the proper balance. I have +led my saddle-horse, Bullet, over country where, undoubtedly to his +intense disgust, I myself have fallen a dozen times in the course of a +morning. Bullet had no such troubles. Any of the mountain horses will +hop cheerfully up or down ledges anywhere. They will even walk a log +fifteen or twenty feet above a stream. I have seen the same trick +performed in Barnum's circus as a wonderful feat, accompanied by brass +bands and breathlessness. We accomplished it on our trip with out any +brass bands; I cannot answer for the breathlessness. As for steadiness +of nerve, they will walk serenely on the edge of precipices a man would +hate to look over, and given a palm's breadth for the soles of their +feet, they will get through. Over such a place I should a lot rather +trust Bullet than myself. + +In an emergency the Western horse is not apt to lose his head. When a +pack-horse falls down, he lies still without struggle until eased of +his pack and told to get up. If he slips off an edge, he tries to +double his fore legs under him and slide. Should he find himself in a +tight place, he waits patiently for you to help him, and then proceeds +gingerly. A friend of mine rode a horse named Blue. One day, the +trail being slippery with rain, he slid and fell. My friend managed a +successful jump, but Blue tumbled about thirty feet to the bed of the +caņon. Fortunately he was not injured. After some difficulty my +friend managed to force his way through the chaparral to where Blue +stood. Then it was fine to see them. My friend would go ahead a few +feet, picking a route. When he had made his decision, he called Blue. +Blue came that far, and no farther. Several times the little horse +balanced painfully and unsteadily like a goat, all four feet on a +boulder, waiting for his signal to advance. In this manner they +regained the trail, and proceeded as though nothing had happened. +Instances could be multiplied indefinitely. + +A good animal adapts himself quickly. He is capable of learning by +experience. In a country entirely new to him he soon discovers the +best method of getting about, where the feed grows, where he can find +water. He is accustomed to foraging for himself. You do not need to +show him his pasturage. If there is anything to eat anywhere in the +district he will find it. Little tufts of bunch-grass growing +concealed under the edges of the brush, he will search out. If he +cannot get grass, he knows how to rustle for the browse of small +bushes. Bullet would devour sage-brush, when he could get nothing +else; and I have even known him philosophically to fill up on dry +pine-needles. There is no nutrition in dry pine-needles, but Bullet +got a satisfyingly full belly. On the trail a well-seasoned horse will +be always on the forage, snatching here a mouthful, yonder a single +spear of grass, and all without breaking the regularity of his gait, or +delaying the pack-train behind him. At the end of the day's travel he +is that much to the good. + +By long observation thus you will construct your ideal of the mountain +horse, and in your selection of your animals for an expedition you will +search always for that ideal. It is only too apt to be modified by +personal idiosyncrasies, and proverbially an ideal is difficult of +attainment; but you will, with care, come closer to its realization +than one accustomed only to the conventionality of an artificially +reared horse would believe possible. + +The ideal mountain horse, when you come to pick him out, is of medium +size. He should be not smaller than fourteen hands nor larger than +fifteen. He is strongly but not clumsily built, short-coupled, with +none of the snipy speedy range of the valley animal. You will select +preferably one of wide full forehead, indicating intelligence, low in +the withers, so the saddle will not be apt to gall him. His sureness +of foot should be beyond question, and of course he must be an expert +at foraging. A horse that knows but one or two kinds of feed, and that +starves unless he can find just those kinds, is an abomination. He +must not jump when you throw all kinds of rattling and terrifying +tarpaulins across him, and he must not mind if the pack-ropes fall +about his heels. In the day's march he must follow like a dog without +the necessity of a lead-rope, nor must he stray far when turned loose +at night. + +Fortunately, when removed from the reassuring environment of +civilization, horses are gregarious. They hate to be separated from the +bunch to which they are accustomed. Occasionally one of us would stop +on the trail, for some reason or another, thus dropping behind the +pack-train. Instantly the saddle-horse so detained would begin to grow +uneasy. Bullet used by all means in his power to try to induce me to +proceed. He would nibble me with his lips, paw the ground, dance in a +circle, and finally sidle up to me in the position of being mounted, +than which he could think of no stronger hint. Then when I had finally +remounted, it was hard to hold him in. He would whinny frantically, +scramble with enthusiasm up trails steep enough to draw a protest at +ordinary times, and rejoin his companions with every symptom of +gratification and delight. This gregariousness and alarm at being left +alone in a strange country tends to hold them together at night. You +are reasonably certain that in the morning, having found one, you will +come upon the rest not far away. + +The personnel of our own outfit we found most interesting. Although +collected from divergent localities they soon became acquainted. In a +crowded corral they were always compact in their organization, sticking +close together, and resisting as a solid phalanx encroachments on their +feed by other and stranger horses. Their internal organization was +very amusing. A certain segregation soon took place. Some became +leaders; others by common consent were relegated to the position of +subordinates. + +The order of precedence on the trail was rigidly preserved by the +pack-horses. An attempt by Buckshot to pass Dinkey, for example, the +latter always met with a bite or a kick by way of hint. If the gelding +still persisted, and tried to pass by a long detour, the mare would +rush out at him angrily, her ears back, her eyes flashing, her neck +extended. And since Buckshot was by no means inclined always to give +in meekly, we had opportunities for plenty of amusement. The two were +always skirmishing. When by a strategic short cut across the angle of a +trail Buckshot succeeded in stealing a march on Dinkey, while she was +nipping a mouthful, his triumph was beautiful to see. He never held +the place for long, however. Dinkey's was the leadership by force of +ambition and energetic character, and at the head of the pack-train she +normally marched. + +Yet there were hours when utter indifference seemed to fall on the +militant spirits. They trailed peacefully and amiably in the rear +while Lily or Jenny marched with pride in the coveted advance. But the +place was theirs only by sufferance. A bite or a kick sent them back +to their own positions when the true leaders grew tired of their +vacation. + +However rigid this order of precedence, the saddle-animals were +acknowledged as privileged;--and knew it. They could go where they +pleased. Furthermore theirs was the duty of correcting infractions of +the trail discipline, such as grazing on the march, or attempting +unauthorized short cuts. They appreciated this duty. Bullet always +became vastly indignant if one of the pack-horses misbehaved. He would +run at the offender angrily, hustle him to his place with savage nips +of his teeth, and drop back to his own position with a comical air of +virtue. Once in a great while it would happen that on my spurring up +from the rear of the column I would be mistaken for one of the +pack-horses attempting illegally to get ahead. Immediately Dinkey or +Buckshot would snake his head out crossly to turn me to the rear. It +was really ridiculous to see the expression of apology with which they +would take it all back, and the ostentatious, nose-elevated +indifference in Bullet's very gait as he marched haughtily by. So +rigid did all the animals hold this convention that actually in the San +Joaquin Valley Dinkey once attempted to head off a Southern Pacific +train. She ran at full speed diagonally toward it, her eyes striking +fire, her ears back, her teeth snapping in rage because the locomotive +would not keep its place behind her ladyship. + +Let me make you acquainted with our outfit. + +I rode, as you have gathered, an Arizona pony named Bullet. He was a +handsome fellow with a chestnut brown coat, long mane and tail, and a +beautiful pair of brown eyes. Wes always called him "Baby." He was in +fact the youngster of the party, with all the engaging qualities of +youth. I never saw a horse more willing. He wanted to do what you +wanted him to; it pleased him, and gave him a warm consciousness of +virtue which the least observant could not fail to remark. When +leading he walked industriously ahead, setting the pace; when +driving,--that is, closing up the rear,--he attended strictly to +business. Not for the most luscious bunch of grass that ever grew +would he pause even for an instant. Yet in his off hours, when I rode +irresponsibly somewhere in the middle, he was a great hand to forage. +Few choice morsels escaped him. He confided absolutely in his rider in +the matter of bad country, and would tackle anything I would put him +at. It seemed that he trusted me not to put him at anything that would +hurt him. This was an invaluable trait when an example had to be set +to the reluctance of the other horses. He was a great swimmer. +Probably the most winning quality of his nature was his extreme +friendliness. He was always wandering into camp to be petted, nibbling +me over with his lips, begging to have his forehead rubbed, thrusting +his nose under an elbow, and otherwise telling how much he thought of +us. Whoever broke him did a good job. I never rode a better-reined +horse. A mere indication of the bridle-hand turned him to right or +left, and a mere raising of the hand without the slightest pressure on +the bit stopped him short. And how well he understood cow-work! Turn +him loose after the bunch, and he would do the rest. All I had to do +was to stick to him. That in itself was no mean task, for he turned +like a flash, and was quick as a cat on his feet. At night I always +let him go foot free. He would be there in the morning, and I could +always walk directly up to him with the bridle in plain sight in my +hand. Even at a feedless camp we once made where we had shot a couple +of deer, he did not attempt to wander off in search of pasture, as +would most horses. He nosed around unsuccessfully until pitch dark, +then came into camp, and with great philosophy stood tail to the fire +until morning. I could always jump off anywhere for a shot, without +even the necessity of "tying him to the ground," by throwing the reins +over his head. He would wait for me, although he was never overfond of +firearms. + +Nevertheless Bullet had his own sense of dignity. He was literally as +gentle as a kitten, but he drew a line. I shall never forget how once, +being possessed of a desire to find out whether we could swim our +outfit across a certain stretch of the Merced River, I climbed him +bareback. He bucked me off so quickly that I never even got settled on +his back. Then he gazed at me with sorrow, while, laughing +irrepressibly at this unusual assertion of independent ideas, I picked +myself out of a wild-rose bush. He did not attempt to run away from +me, but stood to be saddled, and plunged boldly into the swift water +where I told him to. Merely he thought it disrespectful in me to ride +him without his proper harness. He was the pet of the camp. + +As near as I could make out, he had but one fault. He was altogether +too sensitive about his hind quarters, and would jump like a rabbit if +anything touched him there. + +Wes rode a horse we called Old Slob. Wes, be it premised, was an +interesting companion. He had done everything,--seal-hunting, +abalone-gathering, boar-hunting, all kinds of shooting, cow-punching in +the rough Coast Ranges, and all other queer and outlandish and +picturesque vocations by which a man can make a living. He weighed two +hundred and twelve pounds and was the best game shot with a rifle I +ever saw. + +As you may imagine, Old Slob was a stocky individual. He was built +from the ground up. His disposition was quiet, slow, honest. Above +all, he gave the impression of vast, very vast experience. Never did he +hurry his mental processes, although he was quick enough in his +movements if need arose. He quite declined to worry about anything. +Consequently, in spite of the fact that he carried by far the heaviest +man in the company, he stayed always fat and in good condition. There +was something almost pathetic in Old Slob's willingness to go on +working, even when more work seemed like an imposition. You could not +fail to fall in love with his mild inquiring gentle eyes, and his utter +trust in the goodness of human nature. His only fault was an excess of +caution. Old Slob was very very experienced. He knew all about +trails, and he declined to be hurried over what he considered a bad +place. Wes used sometimes to disagree with him as to what constituted +a bad place. "Some day you're going to take a tumble, you old fool," +Wes used to address him, "if you go on fiddling down steep rocks with +your little old monkey work. Why don't you step out?" Only Old Slob +never did take a tumble. He was willing to do anything for you, even +to the assuming of a pack. This is considered by a saddle-animal +distinctly as a come-down. + +The Tenderfoot, by the irony of fate, drew a tenderfoot horse. Tunemah +was a big fool gray that was constitutionally rattle-brained. He meant +well enough, but he didn't know anything. When he came to a bad place +in the trail, he took one good look--and rushed it. Constantly we +expected him to come to grief. It wore on the Tenderfoot's nerves. +Tunemah was always trying to wander off the trail, trying fool routes +of his own invention. If he were sent ahead to set the pace, he lagged +and loitered and constantly looked back, worried lest he get too far in +advance and so lose the bunch. If put at the rear, he fretted against +the bit, trying to push on at a senseless speed. In spite of his +extreme anxiety to stay with the train, he would once in a blue moon +get a strange idea of wandering off solitary through the mountains, +passing good feed, good water, good shelter. We would find him, after +a greater or less period of difficult tracking, perched in a silly +fashion on some elevation. Heaven knows what his idea was: it certainly +was neither search for feed, escape, return whence he came, nor desire +for exercise. When we came up with him, he would gaze mildly at us +from a foolish vacant eye and follow us peaceably back to camp. Like +most weak and silly people, he had occasional stubborn fits when you +could beat him to a pulp without persuading him. He was one of the +type already mentioned that knows but two or three kinds of feed. As +time went on he became thinner and thinner. The other horses +prospered, but Tunemah failed. He actually did not know enough to take +care of himself; and could not learn. Finally, when about two months +out, we traded him at a cow-camp for a little buckskin called Monache. + +So much for the saddle-horses. The pack-animals were four. + +A study of Dinkey's character and an experience of her characteristics +always left me with mingled feelings. At times I was inclined to think +her perfection: at other times thirty cents would have been esteemed by +me as a liberal offer for her. To enumerate her good points: she was +an excellent weight-carrier; took good care of her pack that it never +scraped nor bumped; knew all about trails, the possibilities of short +cuts, the best way of easing herself downhill; kept fat and healthy in +districts where grew next to no feed at all; was past-mistress in the +picking of routes through a trailless country. Her endurance was +marvelous; her intelligence equally so. In fact too great intelligence +perhaps accounted for most of her defects. She thought too much for +herself; she made up opinions about people; she speculated on just how +far each member of the party, man or beast, would stand imposition, and +tried conclusions with each to test the accuracy of her speculations; +she obstinately insisted on her own way in going up and down hill,--a +way well enough for Dinkey, perhaps, but hazardous to the other less +skillful animals who naturally would follow her lead. If she did +condescend to do things according to your ideas, it was with a mental +reservation. You caught her sardonic eye fixed on you contemptuously. +You felt at once that she knew another method, a much better method, +with which yours compared most unfavorably. "I'd like to kick you in +the stomach," Wes used to say; "you know too much for a horse!" + +If one of the horses bucked under the pack, Dinkey deliberately tried +to stampede the others--and generally succeeded. She invariably led +them off whenever she could escape her picket-rope. In case of trouble +of any sort, instead of standing still sensibly, she pretended to be +subject to wild-eyed panics. It was all pretense, for when you DID +yield to temptation and light into her with the toe of your boot, she +subsided into common sense. The spirit of malevolent mischief was hers. + +Her performances when she was being packed were ridiculously +histrionic. As soon as the saddle was cinched, she spread her legs +apart, bracing them firmly as though about to receive the weight of an +iron safe. Then as each article of the pack was thrown across her +back, she flinched and uttered the most heart-rending groans. We used +sometimes to amuse ourselves by adding merely an empty sack, or other +article quite without weight. The groans and tremblings of the braced +legs were quite as pitiful as though we had piled on a sack of flour. +Dinkey, I had forgotten to state, was a white horse, and belonged to +Wes. + +Jenny also was white and belonged to Wes. Her chief characteristic was +her devotion to Dinkey. She worshiped Dinkey, and seconded her +enthusiastically. Without near the originality of Dinkey, she was yet a +very good and sure pack-horse. The deceiving part about Jenny was her +eye. It was baleful with the spirit of evil,--snaky and black, and +with green sideways gleams in it. Catching the flash of it, you would +forever after avoid getting in range of her heels or teeth. But it was +all a delusion. Jenny's disposition was mild and harmless. + +The third member of the pack-outfit we bought at an auction sale in +rather a peculiar manner. About sixty head of Arizona horses of the C. +A. Bar outfit were being sold. Toward the close of the afternoon they +brought out a well-built stocky buckskin of first-rate appearance +except that his left flank was ornamented with five different brands. +The auctioneer called attention to him. + +"Here is a first-rate all-round horse," said he. "He is sound; will +ride, work, or pack; perfectly broken, mild, and gentle. He would make +a first-rate family horse, for he has a kind disposition." + +The official rider put a saddle on him to give him a demonstrating turn +around the track. Then that mild, gentle, perfectly broken family +horse of kind disposition gave about as pretty an exhibition of +barbed-wire bucking as you would want to see. Even the auctioneer had +to join in the wild shriek of delight that went up from the crowd. He +could not get a bid, and I bought the animal in later very cheaply. + +As I had suspected, the trouble turned out to be merely exuberance or +nervousness before a crowd. He bucked once with me under the saddle; +and twice subsequently under a pack,--that was all. Buckshot was the +best pack-horse we had. Bar an occasional saunter into the brush when +he got tired of the trail, we had no fault to find with him. He +carried a heavy pack, was as sure-footed as Bullet, as sagacious on the +trail as Dinkey, and he always attended strictly to his own business. +Moreover he knew that business thoroughly, knew what should be expected +of him, accomplished it well and quietly. His disposition was +dignified but lovable. As long as you treated him well, he was as +gentle as you could ask. But once let Buckshot get it into his head +that he was being imposed on, or once let him see that your temper had +betrayed you into striking him when he thought he did not deserve it, +and he cut loose vigorously and emphatically with his heels. He +declined to be abused. + +There remains but Lily. I don't know just how to do justice to +Lily--the "Lily maid." We named her that because she looked it. Her +color was a pure white, her eye was virginal and silly, her long bang +strayed in wanton carelessness across her face and eyes, her expression +was foolish, and her legs were long and rangy. She had the general +appearance of an overgrown school-girl too big for short dresses and +too young for long gowns;--a school-girl named Flossie, or Mamie, or +Lily. So we named her that. + +At first hers was the attitude of the timid and shrinking tenderfoot. +She stood in awe of her companions; she appreciated her lack of +experience. Humbly she took the rear; slavishly she copied the other +horses; closely she clung to camp. Then in a few weeks, like most +tenderfeet, she came to think that her short experience had taught her +everything there was to know. She put on airs. She became too cocky +and conceited for words. + +Everything she did was exaggerated, overdone. She assumed her pack with +an air that plainly said, "Just see what a good horse am I!" She +started out three seconds before the others in a manner intended to +shame their procrastinating ways. Invariably she was the last to rest, +and the first to start on again. She climbed over-vigorously, with the +manner of conscious rectitude. "Acts like she was trying to get her +wages raised," said Wes. + +In this manner she wore herself down. If permitted she would have +climbed until winded, and then would probably have fallen off somewhere +for lack of strength. Where the other horses watched the movements of +those ahead, in order that when a halt for rest was called they might +stop at an easy place on the trail, Lily would climb on until jammed +against the animal immediately preceding her. Thus often she found +herself forced to cling desperately to extremely bad footing until the +others were ready to proceed. Altogether she was a precious nuisance, +that acted busily but without thinking. + +Two virtues she did possess. She was a glutton for work; and she could +fall far and hard without injuring herself. This was lucky, for she +was always falling. Several times we went down to her fully expecting +to find her dead or so crippled that she would have to be shot. The +loss of a little skin was her only injury. She got to be quite +philosophic about it. On losing her balance she would tumble +peaceably, and then would lie back with an air of luxury, her eyes +closed, while we worked to free her. When we had loosened the pack, +Wes would twist her tail. Thereupon she would open one eye inquiringly +as though to say, "Hullo! Done already?" Then leisurely she would +arise and shake herself. + + + +IV + +ON HOW TO GO ABOUT IT + +One truth you must learn to accept, believe as a tenet of your faith, +and act upon always. It is that your entire welfare depends on the +condition of your horses. They must, as a consequence, receive always +your first consideration. As long as they have rest and food, you are +sure of getting along; as soon as they fail, you are reduced to +difficulties. So absolute is this truth that it has passed into an +idiom. When a Westerner wants to tell you that he lacks a thing, he +informs you he is "afoot" for it. "Give me a fill for my pipe," he +begs; "I'm plumb afoot for tobacco." + +Consequently you think last of your own comfort. In casting about for a +place to spend the night, you look out for good feed. That assured, +all else is of slight importance; you make the best of whatever camping +facilities may happen to be attached. If necessary you will sleep on +granite or in a marsh, walk a mile for firewood or water, if only your +animals are well provided for. And on the trail you often will work +twice as hard as they merely to save them a little. In whatever I may +tell you regarding practical expedients, keep this always in mind. + +As to the little details of your daily routine in the mountains, many +are worth setting down, however trivial they may seem. They mark the +difference between the greenhorn and the old-timer; but, more +important, they mark also the difference between the right and the +wrong, the efficient and the inefficient ways of doing things. + +In the morning the cook for the day is the first man afoot, usually +about half past four. He blows on his fingers, casts malevolent +glances at the sleepers, finally builds his fire and starts his meal. +Then he takes fiendish delight in kicking out the others. They do not +run with glad shouts to plunge into the nearest pool, as most camping +fiction would have us believe. Not they. The glad shout and nearest +pool can wait until noon when the sun is warm. They, too, blow on +their fingers and curse the cook for getting them up so early. All eat +breakfast and feel better. + +Now the cook smokes in lordly ease. One of the other men washes the +dishes, while his companion goes forth to drive in the horses. Washing +dishes is bad enough, but fumbling with frozen fingers at stubborn +hobble-buckles is worse. At camp the horses are caught, and each is +tied near his own saddle and pack. + +The saddle-horses are attended to first. Thus they are available for +business in case some of the others should make trouble. You will see +that your saddle-blankets are perfectly smooth, and so laid that the +edges are to the front where they are least likely to roll under or +wrinkle. After the saddle is in place, lift it slightly and loosen the +blanket along the back bone so it will not draw down tight under the +weight of the rider. Next hang your rifle-scabbard under your left +leg. It should be slanted along the horse's side at such an angle that +neither will the muzzle interfere with the animal's hind leg, nor the +butt with your bridle-hand. This angle must be determined by +experiment. The loop in front should be attached to the scabbard, so +it can be hung over the horn; that behind to the saddle, so the muzzle +can be thrust through it. When you come to try this method, you will +appreciate its handiness. Besides the rifle, you will carry also your +rope, camera, and a sweater or waistcoat for changes in temperature. +In your saddle bags are pipe and tobacco, perhaps a chunk of bread, +your note-book, and the map--if there is any. Thus your saddle-horse +is outfitted. Do not forget your collapsible rubber cup. About your +waist you will wear your cartridge-belt with six-shooter and +sheath-knife. I use a forty-five caliber belt. By threading a buck +skin thong in and out through some of the cartridge loops, their size +is sufficiently reduced to hold also the 30-40 rifle cartridges. Thus +I carry ammunition for both revolver and rifle in the one belt. The +belt should not be buckled tight about your waist, but should hang well +down on the hip. This is for two reasons. In the first place, it does +not drag so heavily at your anatomy, and falls naturally into position +when you are mounted. In the second place, you can jerk your gun out +more easily from a loose-hanging holster. Let your knife-sheath be so +deep as almost to cover the handle, and the knife of the very best +steel procurable. I like a thin blade. If you are a student of animal +anatomy, you can skin and quarter a deer with nothing heavier than a +pocket-knife. + +When you come to saddle the pack-horses, you must exercise even greater +care in getting the saddle-blankets smooth and the saddle in place. +There is some give and take to a rider; but a pack carries "dead," and +gives the poor animal the full handicap of its weight at all times. A +rider dismounts in bad or steep places; a pack stays on until the +morning's journey is ended. See to it, then, that it is on right. + +Each horse should have assigned him a definite and, as nearly as +possible, unvarying pack. Thus you will not have to search everywhere +for the things you need. + +For example, in our own case, Lily was known as the cook-horse. She +carried all the kitchen utensils, the fire-irons, the axe, and matches. +In addition her alforjas contained a number of little bags in which +were small quantities for immediate use of all the different sorts of +provisions we had with us. When we made camp we unpacked her near the +best place for a fire, and everything was ready for the cook. Jenny was +a sort of supply store, for she transported the main stock of the +provisions of which Lily's little bags contained samples. Dinkey +helped out Jenny, and in addition--since she took such good care of her +pack--was intrusted with the fishing-rods, the shot-gun, the +medicine-bag, small miscellaneous duffle, and whatever deer or bear +meat we happened to have. Buckshot's pack consisted of things not +often used, such as all the ammunition, the horse-shoeing outfit, +repair-kit, and the like. It was rarely disturbed at all. + +These various things were all stowed away in the kyacks or alforjas +which hung on either side. They had to be very accurately balanced. +The least difference in weight caused one side to sag, and that in turn +chafed the saddle-tree against the animal's withers. + +So far, so good. Next comes the affair of the top packs. Lay your +duffle-bags across the middle of the saddle. Spread the blankets and +quilts as evenly as possible. Cover all with the canvas tarpaulin +suitably folded. Everything is now ready for the pack-rope. + +The first thing anybody asks you when it is discovered that you know a +little something of pack-trains is, "Do you throw the Diamond Hitch?" +Now the Diamond is a pretty hitch and a firm one, but it is by no means +the fetish some people make of it. They would have you believe that it +represents the height of the packer's art; and once having mastered it, +they use it religiously for every weight, shape, and size of pack. The +truth of the matter is that the style of hitch should be varied +according to the use to which it is to be put. + +The Diamond is good because it holds firmly, is a great flattener, and +is especially adapted to the securing of square boxes. It is +celebrated because it is pretty and rather difficult to learn. Also it +possesses the advantage for single-handed packing that it can be thrown +slack throughout and then tightened, and that the last pull tightens +the whole hitch. However, for ordinary purposes, with a quiet horse +and a comparatively soft pack, the common Square Hitch holds well +enough and is quickly made. For a load of small articles and heavy +alforjas there is nothing like the Lone Packer. It too is a bit hard +to learn. Chiefly is it valuable because the last pulls draw the +alforjas away from the horse's sides, thus preventing their chafing +him. Of the many hitches that remain, you need learn, to complete your +list for all practical purposes, only the Bucking Hitch. It is +complicated, and takes time and patience to throw, but it is warranted +to hold your deck-load through the most violent storms bronco ingenuity +can stir up. + +These four will be enough. Learn to throw them, and take pains always +to throw them good and tight. A loose pack is the best expedient the +enemy of your soul could possibly devise. It always turns or comes to +pieces on the edge of things; and then you will spend the rest of the +morning trailing a wildly bucking horse by the burst and scattered +articles of camp duffle. It is furthermore your exhilarating task, +after you have caught him, to take stock, and spend most of the +afternoon looking for what your first search passed by. Wes and I once +hunted two hours for as large an object as a Dutch oven. After which +you can repack. This time you will snug things down. You should have +done so in the beginning. + +Next, the lead-ropes are made fast to the top of the packs. There is +here to be learned a certain knot. In case of trouble you can reach +from your saddle and jerk the whole thing free by a single pull on a +loose end. + +All is now ready. You take a last look around to see that nothing has +been left. One of the horsemen starts on ahead. The pack-horses swing +in behind. We soon accustomed ours to recognize the whistling of "Boots +and Saddles" as a signal for the advance. Another horseman brings up +the rear. The day's journey has begun. + +To one used to pleasure-riding the affair seems almost too deliberate. +The leader plods steadily, stopping from time to time to rest on the +steep slopes. The others string out in a leisurely procession. It does +no good to hurry. The horses will of their own accord stay in sight of +one another, and constant nagging to keep the rear closed up only +worries them without accomplishing any valuable result. In going +uphill especially, let the train take its time. Each animal is likely +to have his own ideas about when and where to rest. If he does, +respect them. See to it merely that there is no prolonged yielding to +the temptation of meadow feed, and no careless or malicious straying +off the trail. A minute's difference in the time of arrival does not +count. Remember that the horses are doing hard and continuous work on +a grass diet. + +The day's distance will not seem to amount to much in actual miles, +especially if, like most Californians, you are accustomed on a fresh +horse to make an occasional sixty or seventy between suns; but it ought +to suffice. There is a lot to be seen and enjoyed in a mountain mile. +Through the high country two miles an hour is a fair average rate of +speed, so you can readily calculate that fifteen make a pretty long +day. You will be afoot a good share of the time. If you were out from +home for only a few hours' jaunt, undoubtedly you would ride your horse +over places where in an extended trip you will prefer to lead him. It +is always a question of saving your animals. + +About ten o'clock you must begin to figure on water. No horse will +drink in the cool of the morning, and so, when the sun gets well up, he +will be thirsty. Arrange it. + +As to the method of travel, you can either stop at noon or push +straight on through. We usually arose about half past four; got under +way by seven; and then rode continuously until ready to make the next +camp. In the high country this meant until two or three in the +afternoon, by which time both we and the horses were pretty hungry. +But when we did make camp, the horses had until the following morning +to get rested and to graze, while we had all the remainder of the +afternoon to fish, hunt, or loaf. Sometimes, however, it was more +expedient to make a lunch-camp at noon. Then we allowed an hour for +grazing, and about half an hour to pack and unpack. It meant steady +work for ourselves. To unpack, turn out the horses, cook, wash dishes, +saddle up seven animals, and repack, kept us very busy. There remained +not much leisure to enjoy the scenery. It freshened the horses, +however, which was the main point. I should say the first method was +the better for ordinary journeys; and the latter for those times when, +to reach good feed, a forced march becomes necessary. + +On reaching the night's stopping-place, the cook for the day unpacks +the cook-horse and at once sets about the preparation of dinner. The +other two attend to the animals. And no matter how tired you are, or +how hungry you may be, you must take time to bathe their backs with +cold water; to stake the picket-animal where it will at once get good +feed and not tangle its rope in bushes, roots, or stumps; to hobble the +others; and to bell those inclined to wander. After this is done, it +is well, for the peace and well-being of the party, to take food. + +A smoke establishes you in the final and normal attitude of good humor. +Each man spreads his tarpaulin where he has claimed his bed. Said +claim is indicated by his hat thrown down where he wishes to sleep. It +is a mark of pre-emption which every one is bound to respect. Lay out +your saddle-blankets, cover them with your quilt, place the +sleeping-blanket on top, and fold over the tarpaulin to cover the +whole. At the head deposit your duffle-bag. Thus are you assured of a +pleasant night. + +About dusk you straggle in with trout or game. The camp-keeper lays +aside his mending or his repairing or his note-book, and stirs up the +cooking-fire. The smell of broiling and frying and boiling arises in +the air. By the dancing flame of the campfire you eat your third +dinner for the day--in the mountains all meals are dinners, and +formidable ones at that. The curtain of blackness draws down close. +Through it shine stars, loom mountains cold and mist-like in the moon. +You tell stories. You smoke pipes. After a time the pleasant chill +creeps down from the eternal snows. Some one throws another handful of +pine-cones on the fire. Sleepily you prepare for bed. The pine-cones +flare up, throwing their light in your eyes. You turn over and wrap +the soft woolen blanket close about your chin. You wink drowsily and +at once you are asleep. Along late in the night you awaken to find +your nose as cold as a dog's. You open one eye. A few coals mark +where the fire has been. The mist mountains have drawn nearer, they +seem to bend over you in silent contemplation. The moon is sailing +high in the heavens. + +With a sigh you draw the canvas tarpaulin over your head. Instantly it +is morning. + + + +V + +THE COAST RANGES + +At last, on the day appointed, we, with five horses, climbed the Cold +Spring Trail to the ridge; and then, instead of turning to the left, we +plunged down the zigzag lacets of the other side. That night we camped +at Mono Caņon, feeling ourselves strangely an integral part of the +relief map we had looked upon so many times that almost we had come to +consider its features as in miniature, not capacious for the +accommodation of life-sized men. Here we remained a day while we rode +the hills in search of Dinkey and Jenny, there pastured. + +We found Jenny peaceful and inclined to be corralled. But Dinkey, +followed by a slavishly adoring brindle mule, declined to be rounded +up. We chased her up hill and down; along creek-beds and through the +spiky chaparral. Always she dodged craftily, warily, with forethought. +Always the brindled mule, wrapt in admiration at his companion's +cleverness, crashed along after. Finally we teased her into a narrow +caņon. Wes and the Tenderfoot closed the upper end. I attempted to +slip by to the lower, but was discovered. Dinkey tore a frantic mile +down the side hill. Bullet, his nostrils wide, his ears back, raced +parallel in the boulder-strewn stream-bed, wonderful in his avoidance +of bad footing, precious in his selection of good, interested in the +game, indignant at the wayward Dinkey, profoundly contemptuous of the +besotted mule. At a bend in the caņon interposed a steep bank. Up +this we scrambled, dirt and stones flying. I had just time to bend low +along the saddle when, with the ripping and tearing and scratching of +thorns, we burst blindly through a thicket. In the open space on the +farther side Bullet stopped, panting but triumphant. Dinkey, +surrounded at last, turned back toward camp with an air of utmost +indifference. The mule dropped his long ears and followed. + +At camp we corralled Dinkey, but left her friend to shift for himself. +Then was lifted up his voice in mulish lamentations until, cursing, we +had to ride out bareback and drive him far into the hills and there +stone him into distant fear. Even as we departed up the trail the +following day the voice of his sorrow, diminishing like the echo of +grief, appealed uselessly to Dinkey's sympathy. For Dinkey, once +captured, seemed to have shrugged her shoulders and accepted inevitable +toil with a real though cynical philosophy. + +The trail rose gradually by imperceptible gradations and occasional +climbs. We journeyed in the great caņons. High chaparral flanked the +trail, occasional wide gray stretches of "old man" filled the air with +its pungent odor and with the calls of its quail. The crannies of the +rocks, the stretches of wide loose shale, the crumbling bottom earth +offered to the eye the dessicated beauties of creamy yucca, of yerba +buena, of the gaudy red paint-brushes, the Spanish bayonet; and to the +nostrils the hot dry perfumes of the semi-arid lands. The air was +tepid; the sun hot. A sing-song of bees and locusts and strange insects +lulled the mind. The ponies plodded on cheerfully. We expanded and +basked and slung our legs over the pommels of our saddles and were glad +we had come. + +At no time did we seem to be climbing mountains. Rather we wound in and +out, round and about, through a labyrinth of valleys and caņons and +ravines, farther and farther into a mysterious shut-in country that +seemed to have no end. Once in a while, to be sure, we zigzagged up a +trifling ascent; but it was nothing. And then at a certain point the +Tenderfoot happened to look back. + +"Well!" he gasped; "will you look at that!" + +We turned. Through a long straight aisle which chance had placed just +there, we saw far in the distance a sheer slate-colored wall; and +beyond, still farther in the distance, overtopping the slate-colored +wall by a narrow strip, another wall of light azure blue. + +"It's our mountains," said Wes, "and that blue ridge is the channel +islands. We've got up higher than our range." + +We looked about us, and tried to realize that we were actually more +than halfway up the formidable ridge we had so often speculated on from +the Cold Spring Trail. But it was impossible. In a few moments, +however, our broad easy caņon narrowed. Huge crags and sheer masses of +rock hemmed us in. The chaparral and yucca and yerba buena gave place +to pine-trees and mountain oaks, with little close clumps of +cottonwoods in the stream bottom. The brook narrowed and leaped, and +the white of alkali faded from its banks. We began to climb in good +earnest, pausing often for breath. The view opened. We looked back on +whence we had come, and saw again, from the reverse, the forty miles of +ranges and valleys we had viewed from the Ridge Trail. + +At this point we stopped to shoot a rattlesnake. Dinkey and Jenny took +the opportunity to push ahead. From time to time we would catch sight +of them traveling earnestly on, following the trail accurately, +stopping at stated intervals to rest, doing their work, conducting +themselves as decorously as though drivers had stood over them with +blacksnake whips. We tried a little to catch up. + +"Never mind," said Wes, "they've been over this trail before. They'll +stop when they get to where we're going to camp." + +We halted a moment on the ridge to look back over the lesser mountains +and the distant ridge, beyond which the islands now showed plainly. +Then we dropped down behind the divide into a cup valley containing a +little meadow with running water on two sides of it and big pines +above. The meadow was brown, to be sure, as all typical California is +at this time of year. But the brown of California and the brown of the +East are two different things. Here is no snow or rain to mat down the +grass, to suck out of it the vital principles. It grows ripe and sweet +and soft, rich with the life that has not drained away, covering the +hills and valleys with the effect of beaver fur, so that it seems the +great round-backed hills must have in a strange manner the yielding +flesh-elasticity of living creatures. The brown of California is the +brown of ripeness; not of decay. + +Our little meadow was beautifully named Madulce,[1] and was just below +the highest point of this section of the Coast Range. The air drank +fresh with the cool of elevation. We went out to shoot supper; and so +found ourselves on a little knoll fronting the brown-hazed east. As we +stood there, enjoying the breeze after our climb, a great wave of hot +air swept by us, filling our lungs with heat, scorching our faces as +the breath of a furnace. Thus was brought to our minds what, in the +excitement of a new country, we had forgotten,--that we were at last on +the eastern slope, and that before us waited the Inferno of the desert. + +That evening we lay in the sweet ripe grasses of Madulce, and talked of +it. Wes had been across it once before and did not possess much +optimism with which to comfort us. + +"It's hot, just plain hot," said he, "and that's all there is about it. +And there's mighty little water, and what there is is sickish and a +long ways apart. And the sun is strong enough to roast potatoes in." + +"Why not travel at night?" we asked. + +"No place to sleep under daytimes," explained Wes. "It's better to +keep traveling and then get a chance for a little sleep in the cool of +the night." + +We saw the reasonableness of that. + +"Of course we'll start early, and take a long nooning, and travel late. +We won't get such a lot of sleep." + +"How long is it going to take us?" + +Wes calculated. + +"About eight days," he said soberly. + +The next morning we descended from Madulce abruptly by a dirt trail, +almost perpendicular until we slid into a caņon of sage-brush and +quail, of mescale cactus and the fierce dry heat of sun-baked shale. + +"Is it any hotter than this on the desert?" we inquired. + +Wes looked on us with pity. + +"This is plumb arctic," said he. + +Near noon we came to a little cattle ranch situated in a flat +surrounded by red dikes and buttes after the manner of Arizona. Here +we unpacked, early as it was, for through the dry countries one has to +apportion his day's journeys by the water to be had. If we went +farther to-day, then to-morrow night would find us in a dry camp. + +The horses scampered down the flat to search out alfilaria. We roosted +under a slanting shed,--where were stock saddles, silver-mounted bits +and spurs, rawhide riatas, branding-irons, and all the lumber of the +cattle business,--and hung out our tongues and gasped for breath and +earnestly desired the sun to go down or a breeze to come up. The +breeze shortly did so. It was a hot breeze, and availed merely to +cover us with dust, to swirl the stable-yard into our faces. Great +swarms of flies buzzed and lit and stung. Wes, disgusted, went over to +where a solitary cowpuncher was engaged in shoeing a horse. Shortly we +saw Wes pressed into service to hold the horse's hoof. He raised a +pathetic face to us, the big round drops chasing each other down it as +fast as rain. We grinned and felt better. + +The fierce perpendicular rays of the sun beat down. The air under the +shed grew stuffier and more oppressive, but it was the only patch of +shade in all that pink and red furnace of a little valley. The +Tenderfoot discovered a pair of horse-clippers, and, becoming slightly +foolish with the heat, insisted on our barbering his head. We told him +it was cooler with hair than without; and that the flies and sun would +be offered thus a beautiful opportunity, but without avail. So we +clipped him,--leaving, however, a beautiful long scalp-lock in the +middle of his crown. He looked like High-low-kickapoo-waterpot, chief +of the Wam-wams. After a while he discovered it, and was unhappy. + +Shortly the riders began to come in, jingling up to the shed, with a +rattle of spurs and bit-chains. There they unsaddled their horses, +after which, with great unanimity, they soused their heads in the +horse-trough. The chief, a six-footer, wearing beautifully decorated +gauntlets and a pair of white buckskin chaps, went so far as to say it +was a little warm for the time of year. In the freshness of evening, +when frazzled nerves had regained their steadiness, he returned to +smoke and yarn with us and tell us of the peculiarities of the cattle +business in the Cuyamas. At present he and his men were riding the +great mountains, driving the cattle to the lowlands in anticipation of +a rodeo the following week. A rodeo under that sun! + +We slept in the ranch vehicles, so the air could get under us. While +the stars still shone, we crawled out, tired and unrefreshed. The +Tenderfoot and I went down the valley after the horses. While we +looked, the dull pallid gray of dawn filtered into the darkness, and so +we saw our animals, out of proportion, monstrous in the half light of +that earliest morning. Before the range riders were even astir we had +taken up our journey, filching thus a few hours from the inimical sun. + +Until ten o'clock we traveled in the valley of the Cuyamas. The river +was merely a broad sand and stone bed, although undoubtedly there was +water below the surface. California rivers are said to flow bottom up. +To the northward were mountains typical of the arid countries,--boldly +defined, clear in the edges of their folds, with sharp shadows and +hard, uncompromising surfaces. They looked brittle and hollow, as +though made of papier mache and set down in the landscape. A long four +hours' noon we spent beneath a live-oak near a tiny spring. I tried to +hunt, but had to give it up. After that I lay on my back and shot +doves as they came to drink at the spring. It was better than walking +about, and quite as effective as regards supper. A band of cattle +filed stolidly in, drank, and filed as stolidly away. Some half-wild +horses came to the edge of the hill, stamped, snorted, essayed a +tentative advance. Them we drove away, lest they decoy our own +animals. The flies would not let us sleep. Dozens of valley and +mountain quail called with maddening cheerfulness and energy. By a +mighty exercise of will we got under way again. In an hour we rode out +into what seemed to be a grassy foot-hill country, supplied with a most +refreshing breeze. + +The little round hills of a few hundred feet rolled gently away to the +artificial horizon made by their closing in. The trail meandered white +and distinct through the clear fur-like brown of their grasses. Cattle +grazed. Here and there grew live-oaks, planted singly as in a park. +Beyond we could imagine the great plain, grading insensibly into these +little hills. + +And then all at once we surmounted a slight elevation, and found that +we had been traveling on a plateau, and that these apparent little +hills were in reality the peaks of high mountains. + +We stood on the brink of a wide smooth velvet-creased range that dipped +down and down to miniature caņons far below. Not a single little +boulder broke the rounded uniformity of the wild grasses. Out from +beneath us crept the plain, sluggish and inert with heat. + +Threads of trails, dull white patches of alkali, vague brown areas of +brush, showed indeterminate for a little distance. But only for a +little distance. Almost at once they grew dim, faded in the thickness +of atmosphere, lost themselves in the mantle of heat that lay palpable +and brown like a shimmering changing veil, hiding the distance in +mystery and in dread. It was a land apart; a land to be looked on +curiously from the vantage-ground of safety,--as we were looking on it +from the shoulder of the mountain,--and then to be turned away from, to +be left waiting behind its brown veil for what might come. To abandon +the high country, deliberately to cut loose from the known, +deliberately to seek the presence that lay in wait,--all at once it +seemed the height of grotesque perversity. We wanted to turn on our +heels. We wanted to get back to our hills and fresh breezes and clear +water, to our beloved cheerful quail, to our trails and the sweet upper +air. + +For perhaps a quarter of an hour we sat our horses, gazing down. Some +unknown disturbance lazily rifted the brown veil by ever so little. We +saw, lying inert and languid, obscured by its own rank steam, a great +round lake. We knew the water to be bitter, poisonous. The veil drew +together again. Wes shook himself and sighed, "There she is,--damn +her!" said he. + + +[1] In all Spanish names the final e should be pronounced. + + + +VI + +THE INFERNO + +For eight days we did penance, checking off the hours, meeting doggedly +one after another the disagreeable things. We were bathed in heat; we +inhaled it; it soaked into us until we seemed to radiate it like so +many furnaces. A condition of thirst became the normal condition, to +be only slightly mitigated by a few mouthfuls from zinc canteens of +tepid water. Food had no attractions: even smoking did not taste good. +Always the flat country stretched out before us. We could see far +ahead a landmark which we would reach only by a morning's travel. +Nothing intervened between us and it. After we had looked at it a +while, we became possessed of an almost insane necessity to make a run +for it. The slow maddening three miles an hour of the pack-train drove +us frantic. There were times when it seemed that unless we shifted our +gait, unless we stepped outside the slow strain of patience to which +the Inferno held us relentlessly, we should lose our minds and run +round and round in circles--as people often do, in the desert. + +And when the last and most formidable hundred yards had slunk sullenly +behind us to insignificance, and we had dared let our minds relax from +the insistent need of self-control--then, beyond the cotton-woods, or +creek-bed, or group of buildings, whichever it might be, we made out +another, remote as paradise, to which we must gain by sunset. So again +the wagon-trail, with its white choking dust, its staggering sun, its +miles made up of monotonous inches, each clutching for a man's sanity. + +We sang everything we knew; we told stories; we rode cross-saddle, +sidewise, erect, slouching; we walked and led our horses; we shook the +powder of years from old worn jokes, conundrums, and puzzles,--and at +the end, in spite of our best efforts, we fell to morose silence and +the red-eyed vindictive contemplation of the objective point that would +not seem to come nearer. + +For now we lost accurate sense of time. At first it had been merely a +question of going in at one side of eight days, pressing through them, +and coming out on the other side. Then the eight days would be behind +us. But once we had entered that enchanted period, we found ourselves +more deeply involved. The seemingly limited area spread with startling +swiftness to the very horizon. Abruptly it was borne in on us that +this was never going to end; just as now for the first time we realized +that it had begun infinite ages ago. We were caught in the +entanglement of days. The Coast Ranges were the experiences of a past +incarnation: the Mountains were a myth. + +Nothing was real but this; and this would endure forever. We plodded +on because somehow it was part of the great plan that we should do so. +Not that it did any good:--we had long since given up such ideas. The +illusion was very real; perhaps it was the anodyne mercifully +administered to those who pass through the Inferno. + +Most of the time we got on well enough. One day, only, the Desert +showed her power. That day, at five of the afternoon, it was one +hundred and twenty degrees in the shade. And we, through necessity of +reaching the next water, journeyed over the alkali at noon. Then the +Desert came close on us and looked us fair in the eyes, concealing +nothing. She killed poor Deuce, the beautiful setter who had traveled +the wild countries so long; she struck Wes and the Tenderfoot from +their horses when finally they had reached a long-legged water tank; +she even staggered the horses themselves. And I, lying under a bush +where I had stayed after the others in the hope of succoring Deuce, +began idly shooting at ghostly jack-rabbits that looked real, but +through which the revolver bullets passed without resistance. + +After this day the Tenderfoot went water-crazy. Watering the horses +became almost a mania with him. He could not bear to pass even a +mud-hole without offering the astonished Tunemah a chance to fill up, +even though that animal had drunk freely not twenty rods back. As for +himself, he embraced every opportunity; and journeyed draped in many +canteens. + +After that it was not so bad. The thermometer stood from a hundred to +a hundred and five or six, to be sure, but we were getting used to it. +Discomfort, ordinary physical discomfort, we came to accept as the +normal environment of man. It is astonishing how soon uniformly +uncomfortable conditions, by very lack of contrast, do lose their power +to color the habit of mind. I imagine merely physical unhappiness is a +matter more of contrasts than of actual circumstances. We swallowed +dust; we humped our shoulders philosophically under the beating of the +sun, we breathed the debris of high winds; we cooked anyhow, ate +anything, spent long idle fly-infested hours waiting for the noon to +pass; we slept in horse-corrals, in the trail, in the dust, behind +stables, in hay, anywhere. There was little water, less wood for the +cooking. + +It is now all confused, an impression of events with out sequence, a +mass of little prominent purposeless things like rock conglomerate. I +remember leaning my elbows on a low window-ledge and watching a poker +game going on in the room of a dive. The light came from a sickly +suspended lamp. It fell on five players,--two miners in their +shirt-sleeves, a Mexican, a tough youth with side-tilted derby hat, and +a fat gorgeously dressed Chinaman. The men held their cards close to +their bodies, and wagered in silence. Slowly and regularly the great +drops of sweat gathered on their faces. As regularly they raised the +backs of their hands to wipe them away. Only the Chinaman, +broad-faced, calm, impassive as Buddha, save for a little crafty smile +in one corner of his eye, seemed utterly unaffected by the heat, cool +as autumn. His loose sleeve fell back from his forearm when he moved +his hand forward, laying his bets. A jade bracelet slipped back and +forth as smoothly as on yellow ivory. + +Or again, one night when the plain was like a sea of liquid black, and +the sky blazed with stars, we rode by a sheep-herder's camp. The +flicker of a fire threw a glow out into the dark. A tall wagon, a +group of silhouetted men, three or four squatting dogs, were squarely +within the circle of illumination. And outside, in the penumbra of +shifting half light, now showing clearly, now fading into darkness, +were the sheep, indeterminate in bulk, melting away by mysterious +thousands into the mass of night. We passed them. They looked up, +squinting their eyes against the dazzle of their fire. The night +closed about us again. + +Or still another: in the glare of broad noon, after a hot and trying +day, a little inn kept by a French couple. And there, in the very +middle of the Inferno, was served to us on clean scrubbed tables, a +meal such as one gets in rural France, all complete, with the potage, +the fish fried in oil, the wonderful ragout, the chicken and salad, the +cheese and the black coffee, even the vin ordinaire. I have forgotten +the name of the place, its location on the map, the name of its +people,--one has little to do with detail in the Inferno,--but that +dinner never will I forget, any more than the Tenderfoot will forget +his first sight of water the day when the Desert "held us up." + +Once the brown veil lifted to the eastward. We, souls struggling, saw +great mountains and the whiteness of eternal snow. That noon we +crossed a river, hurrying down through the flat plain, and in its +current came the body of a drowned bear-cub, an alien from the high +country. + +These things should have been as signs to our jaded spirits that we +were nearly at the end of our penance, but discipline had seared over +our souls, and we rode on unknowing. + +Then we came on a real indication. It did not amount to much. Merely +a dry river-bed; but the farther bank, instead of being flat, cut into +a low swell of land. We skirted it. Another swell of land, like the +sullen after-heave of a storm, lay in our way. Then we crossed a +ravine. It was not much of a ravine; in fact it was more like a slight +gouge in the flatness of the country. After that we began to see +oak-trees, scattered at rare intervals. So interested were we in them +that we did not notice rocks beginning to outcrop through the soil +until they had become numerous enough to be a feature of the landscape. +The hills, gently, quietly, without abrupt transition, almost as though +they feared to awaken our alarm by too abrupt movement of growth, +glided from little swells to bigger swells. The oaks gathered closer +together. The ravine's brother could almost be called a caņon. The +character of the country had entirely changed. + +And yet, so gradually had this change come about that we did not awaken +to a full realization of our escape. To us it was still the plain, a +trifle modified by local peculiarity, but presently to resume its +wonted aspect. We plodded on dully, anodyned with the desert patience. + +But at a little before noon, as we rounded the cheek of a slope, we +encountered an errant current of air. It came up to us curiously, +touched us each in turn, and went on. The warm furnace heat drew in on +us again. But it had been a cool little current of air, with something +of the sweetness of pines and water and snow-banks in it. The +Tenderfoot suddenly reined in his horse and looked about him. + +"Boys!" he cried, a new ring of joy in his voice, "we're in the +foot-hills!" + +Wes calculated rapidly. "It's the eighth day to-day: I guessed right +on the time." + +We stretched our arms and looked about us. They were dry brown hills +enough; but they were hills, and they had trees on them, and caņons in +them, so to our eyes, wearied with flatness, they seemed wonderful. + + + +VII + +THE FOOT-HILLS + +At once our spirits rose. We straightened in our saddles, we breathed +deep, we joked. The country was scorched and sterile; the wagon-trail, +almost paralleling the mountains themselves on a long easy slant toward +the high country, was ankle-deep in dust; the ravines were still dry of +water. But it was not the Inferno, and that one fact sufficed. After +a while we crossed high above a river which dashed white water against +black rocks, and so were happy. + +The country went on changing. The change was always imperceptible, as +is growth, or the stealthy advance of autumn through the woods. From +moment to moment one could detect no alteration. Something intangible +was taken away; something impalpable added. At the end of an hour we +were in the oaks and sycamores; at the end of two we were in the pines +and low mountains of Bret Harte's Forty-Nine. + +The wagon-trail felt ever farther and farther into the hills. It had +not been used as a stage-route for years, but the freighting kept it +deep with dust, that writhed and twisted and crawled lazily knee-high +to our horses, like a living creature. We felt the swing and sweep of +the route. The boldness of its stretches, the freedom of its reaches +for the opposite slope, the wide curve of its horseshoes, all filled us +with the breath of an expansion which as yet the broad low country only +suggested. + +Everything here was reminiscent of long ago. The very names hinted +stories of the Argonauts. Coarse Gold Gulch, Whiskey Creek, Grub +Gulch, Fine Gold Post-Office in turn we passed. Occasionally, with a +fine round dash into the open, the trail drew one side to a +stage-station. The huge stables, the wide corrals, the low +living-houses, each shut in its dooryard of blazing riotous flowers, +were all familiar. Only lacked the old-fashioned Concord coach, from +which to descend Jack Hamlin or Judge Starbottle. As for M'liss, she +was there, sunbonnet and all. + +Down in the gulch bottoms were the old placer diggings. Elaborate +little ditches for the deflection of water, long cradles for the +separation of gold, decayed rockers, and shining in the sun the tons +and tons of pay dirt which had been turned over pound by pound in the +concentrating of its treasure. Some of the old cabins still stood. It +was all deserted now, save for the few who kept trail for the +freighters, or who tilled the restricted bottom-lands of the flats. +Road-runners racked away down the paths; squirrels scurried over +worn-out placers; jays screamed and chattered in and out of the +abandoned cabins. Strange and shy little creatures and birds, +reassured by the silence of many years, had ventured to take to +themselves the engines of man's industry. And the warm California sun +embalmed it all in a peaceful forgetfulness. + +Now the trees grew bigger, and the hills more impressive. We should +call them mountains in the East. Pines covered them to the top, +straight slender pines with voices. The little flats were planted with +great oaks. When we rode through them, they shut out the hills, so +that we might have imagined ourselves in the level wooded country. +There insisted the effect of limitless tree-grown plains, which the +warm drowsy sun, the park-like landscape, corroborated. And yet the +contrast of the clear atmosphere and the sharp air equally insisted on +the mountains. It was a strange and delicious double effect, a +contradiction of natural impressions, a negation of our right to +generalize from previous experience. + +Always the trail wound up and up. Never was it steep; never did it +command an outlook. Yet we felt that at last we were rising, were +leaving the level of the Inferno, were nearing the threshold of the +high country. + +Mountain peoples came to the edges of their clearings and gazed at us, +responding solemnly to our salutations. They dwelt in cabins and held +to agriculture and the herding of the wild mountain cattle. From them +we heard of the high country to which we were bound. They spoke of it +as you or I would speak of interior Africa, as something inconceivably +remote, to be visited only by the adventurous, an uninhabited realm of +vast magnitude and unknown dangers. In the same way they spoke of the +plains. Only the narrow pine-clad strip between the two and six +thousand feet of elevation they felt to be their natural environment. +In it they found the proper conditions for their existence. Out of it +those conditions lacked. They were as much a localized product as are +certain plants which occur only at certain altitudes. Also were they +densely ignorant of trails and routes outside of their own little +districts. + +All this, you will understand, was in what is known as the low country. +The landscape was still brown; the streams but trickles; sage-brush +clung to the ravines; the valley quail whistled on the side hills. + +But one day we came suddenly into the big pines and rocks; and that +very night we made our first camp in a meadow typical of the mountains +we had dreamed about. + + + +VIII + +THE PINES + +I do not know exactly how to make you feel the charm of that first camp +in the big country. Certainly I can never quite repeat it in my own +experience. + +Remember that for two months we had grown accustomed to the brown of +the California landscape, and that for over a week we had traveled in +the Inferno. We had forgotten the look of green grass, of abundant +water; almost had we forgotten the taste of cool air. So invariably +had the trails been dusty, and the camping-places hard and exposed, +that we had come subconsciously to think of such as typical of the +country. Try to put yourself in the frame of mind those conditions +would make. + +Then imagine yourself climbing in an hour or so up into a high ridge +country of broad cup-like sweeps and bold outcropping ledges. Imagine +a forest of pine-trees bigger than any pines you ever saw +before,--pines eight and ten feet through, so huge that you can hardly +look over one of their prostrate trunks even from the back of your +pony. Imagine, further, singing little streams of ice-cold water, deep +refreshing shadows, a soft carpet of pine-needles through which the +faint furrow of the trail runs as over velvet. And then, last of all, +in a wide opening, clear as though chopped and plowed by some +back-woodsman, a park of grass, fresh grass, green as a precious stone. + +This was our first sight of the mountain meadows. From time to time we +found others, sometimes a half dozen in a day. The rough country came +down close about them, edging to the very hair-line of the magic +circle, which seemed to assure their placid sunny peace. An upheaval +of splintered granite often tossed and tumbled in the abandon of an +unrestrained passion that seemed irresistibly to overwhelm the sanities +of a whole region; but somewhere, in the very forefront of turmoil, was +like to slumber one of these little meadows, as unconscious of anything +but its own flawless green simplicity as a child asleep in mid-ocean. +Or, away up in the snows, warmed by the fortuity of reflected heat, its +emerald eye looked bravely out to the heavens. Or, as here, it rested +confidingly in the very heart of the austere forest. + +Always these parks are green; always are they clear and open. Their +size varies widely. Some are as little as a city lawn; others, like +the great Monache,[1] are miles in extent. In them resides the +possibility of your traveling the high country; for they supply the +feed for your horses. + +Being desert-weary, the Tenderfoot and I cried out with the joy of it, +and told in extravagant language how this was the best camp we had ever +made. + +"It's a bum camp," growled Wes. "If we couldn't get better camps than +this, I'd quit the game." + +He expatiated on the fact that this particular meadow was somewhat +boggy; that the feed was too watery; that there'd be a cold wind down +through the pines; and other small and minor details. But we, our +backs propped against appropriately slanted rocks, our pipes well +aglow, gazed down the twilight through the wonderful great columns of +the trees to where the white horses shone like snow against the +unaccustomed relief of green, and laughed him to scorn. What did +we--or the horses for that matter--care for trifling discomforts of the +body? In these intangible comforts of the eye was a great refreshment +of the spirit. + +The following day we rode through the pine forests growing on the +ridges and hills and in the elevated bowl-like hollows. These were not +the so-called "big trees,"--with those we had to do later, as you shall +see. They were merely sugar and yellow pines, but never anywhere have +I seen finer specimens. They were planted with a grand sumptuousness of +space, and their trunks were from five to twelve feet in diameter and +upwards of two hundred feet high to the topmost spear. Underbrush, +ground growth, even saplings of the same species lacked entirely, so +that we proceeded in the clear open aisles of a tremendous and spacious +magnificence. + +This very lack of the smaller and usual growths, the generous plan of +spacing, and the size of the trees themselves necessarily deprived us +of a standard of comparison. At first the forest seemed immense. But +after a little our eyes became accustomed to its proportions. We +referred it back to the measures of long experience. The trees, the +wood-aisles, the extent of vision shrunk to the normal proportions of +an Eastern pinery. And then we would lower our gaze. The pack-train +would come into view. It had become lilliputian, the horses small as +white mice, the men like tin soldiers, as though we had undergone an +enchantment. But in a moment, with the rush of a mighty +transformation, the great trees would tower huge again. + +In the pine woods of the mountains grows also a certain close-clipped +parasitic moss. In color it is a brilliant yellow-green, more yellow +than green. In shape it is crinkly and curly and tangled up with +itself like very fine shavings. In consistency it is dry and brittle. +This moss girdles the trunks of trees with innumerable parallel +inch-wide bands a foot or so apart, in the manner of old-fashioned +striped stockings. It covers entirely sundry twigless branches. Always +in appearance is it fantastic, decorative, almost Japanese, as though +consciously laid in with its vivid yellow-green as an intentional note +of a tone scheme. The somberest shadows, the most neutral twilights, +the most austere recesses are lighted by it as though so many freakish +sunbeams had severed relations with the parent luminary to rest quietly +in the coolnesses of the ancient forest. + +Underfoot the pine-needles were springy beneath the horse's hoof. The +trail went softly, with the courtesy of great gentleness. Occasionally +we caught sight of other ridges,--also with pines,--across deep sloping +valleys, pine filled. The effect of the distant trees seen from above +was that of roughened velvet, here smooth and shining, there dark with +rich shadows. On these slopes played the wind. In the level countries +it sang through the forest progressively: here on the slope it struck a +thousand trees at once. The air was ennobled with the great voice, as +a church is ennobled by the tones of a great organ. Then we would drop +back again to the inner country, for our way did not contemplate the +descents nor climbs, but held to the general level of a plateau. + +Clear fresh brooks ran in every ravine. Their water was snow-white +against the black rocks; or lay dark in bank-shadowed pools. As our +horses splashed across we could glimpse the rainbow trout flashing to +cover. Where the watered hollows grew lush were thickets full of +birds, outposts of the aggressively and cheerfully worldly in this +pine-land of spiritual detachment. Gorgeous bush-flowers, great of +petal as magnolias, with perfume that lay on the air like a heavy +drowsiness; long clear stretches of an ankle-high shrub of vivid +emerald, looking in the distance like sloping meadows of a peculiar +color-brilliance; patches of smaller flowers where for the trifling +space of a street's width the sun had unobstructed fall,--these from +time to time diversified the way, brought to our perceptions the +endearing trifles of earthiness, of humanity, befittingly to modify the +austerity of the great forest. At a brookside we saw, still fresh and +moist, the print of a bear's foot. From a patch of the little emerald +brush, a barren doe rose to her feet, eyed us a moment, and then +bounded away as though propelled by springs. We saw her from time to +time surmounting little elevations farther and farther away. + +The air was like cold water. We had not lung capacity to satisfy our +desire for it. There came with it a dry exhilaration that brought high +spirits, an optimistic viewpoint, and a tremendous keen appetite. It +seemed that we could never tire. In fact we never did. Sometimes, +after a particularly hard day, we felt like resting; but it was always +after the day's work was done, never while it was under way. The +Tenderfoot and I one day went afoot twenty-two miles up and down a +mountain fourteen thousand feet high. The last three thousand feet +were nearly straight up and down. We finished at a four-mile clip an +hour before sunset, and discussed what to do next to fill in the time. +When we sat down, we found we had had about enough; but we had not +discovered it before. + +All of us, even the morose and cynical Dinkey, felt the benefit of the +change from the lower country. Here we were definitely in the +Mountains. Our plateau ran from six to eight thousand feet in +altitude. Beyond it occasionally we could see three more ridges, +rising and falling, each higher than the last. And then, in the blue +distance, the very crest of the broad system called the +Sierras,--another wide region of sheer granite rising in peaks, +pinnacles, and minarets, rugged, wonderful, capped with the eternal +snows. + + +[1] Do not fail to sound the final e. + + + +IX + +THE TRAIL + +When you say "trail" to a Westerner, his eye lights up. This is +because it means something to him. To another it may mean something +entirely different, for the blessed word is of that rare and beautiful +category which is at once of the widest significance and the most +intimate privacy to him who utters it. To your mind leaps the picture +of the dim forest-aisles and the murmurings of tree-top breezes; to him +comes a vision of the wide dusty desert; to me, perhaps, a high wild +country of wonder. To all of us it is the slender, unbroken, +never-ending thread connecting experiences. + +For in a mysterious way, not to be understood, our trails never do end. +They stop sometimes, and wait patiently while we dive in and out of +houses, but always when we are ready to go on, they are ready too, and +so take up the journey placidly as though nothing had intervened. They +begin, when? Sometime, away in the past, you may remember a single +episode, vivid through the mists of extreme youth. Once a very little +boy walked with his father under a green roof of leaves that seemed +farther than the sky and as unbroken. All of a sudden the man raised +his gun and fired upwards, apparently through the green roof. A pause +ensued. Then, hurtling roughly through still that same green roof, a +great bird fell, hitting the earth with a thump. The very little boy +was I. My trail must have begun there under the bright green roof of +leaves. + +From that earliest moment the Trail unrolls behind you like a thread so +that never do you quite lose connection with your selves. There is +something a little fearful to the imaginative in the insistence of it. +You may camp, you may linger, but some time or another, sooner or +later, you must go on, and when you do, then once again the Trail takes +up its continuity without reference to the muddied place you have +tramped out in your indecision or indolence or obstinacy or necessity. +It would be exceedingly curious to follow out in patience the chart of +a man's going, tracing the pattern of his steps with all its windings +of nursery, playground, boys afield, country, city, plain, forest, +mountain, wilderness, home, always on and on into the higher country of +responsibility until at the last it leaves us at the summit of the +Great Divide. Such a pattern would tell his story as surely as do the +tracks of a partridge on the snow. + +A certain magic inheres in the very name, or at least so it seems to +me. I should be interested to know whether others feel the same +glamour that I do in the contemplation of such syllables as the Lo-Lo +Trail, the Tunemah Trail, the Mono Trail, the Bright Angel Trail. A +certain elasticity of application too leaves room for the more +connotation. A trail may be almost anything. There are wagon-trails +which East would rank as macadam roads; horse-trails that would compare +favorably with our best bridle-paths; foot-trails in the fur country +worn by constant use as smooth as so many garden-walks. Then again +there are other arrangements. I have heard a mule-driver overwhelmed +with skeptical derision because he claimed to have upset but six times +in traversing a certain bit of trail not over five miles long; in +charts of the mountains are marked many trails which are only "ways +through,"--you will find few traces of predecessors; the same can be +said of trails in the great forests where even an Indian is sometimes +at fault. "Johnny, you're lost," accused the white man. "Trail lost: +Injun here," denied the red man. And so after your experience has led +you by the campfires of a thousand delights, and each of those +campfires is on the Trail, which only pauses courteously for your stay +and then leads on untiring into new mysteries forever and ever, you +come to love it as the donor of great joys. You too become a +Westerner, and when somebody says "trail," your eye too lights up. + +The general impression of any particular trail is born rather of the +little incidents than of the big accidents. The latter are exotic, and +might belong to any time or places; the former are individual. For the +Trail is a vantage-ground, and from it, as your day's travel unrolls, +you see many things. Nine tenths of your experience comes thus, for in +the long journeys the side excursions are few enough and unimportant +enough almost to merit classification with the accidents. In time the +character of the Trail thus defines itself. + +Most of all, naturally, the kind of country has to do with this +generalized impression. Certain surprises, through trees, of vista +looking out over unexpected spaces; little notches in the hills beyond +which you gain to a placid far country sleeping under a sun warmer than +your elevation permits; the delicious excitement of the moment when you +approach the very knife-edge of the summit and wonder what lies +beyond,--these are the things you remember with a warm heart. Your +saddle is a point of vantage. By it you are elevated above the +country; from it you can see clearly. Quail scuttle away to right and +left, heads ducked low; grouse boom solemnly on the rigid limbs of +pines; deer vanish through distant thickets to appear on yet more +distant ridges, thence to gaze curiously, their great ears forward; +across the caņon the bushes sway violently with the passage of a +cinnamon bear among them,--you see them all from your post of +observation. Your senses are always alert for these things; you are +always bending from your saddle to examine the tracks and signs that +continually offer themselves for your inspection and interpretation. + +Our trail of this summer led at a general high elevation, with +comparatively little climbing and comparatively easy traveling for days +at a time. Then suddenly we would find ourselves on the brink of a +great box caņon from three to seven thousand feet deep, several miles +wide, and utterly precipitous. In the bottom of this caņon would be +good feed, fine groves of trees, and a river of some size in which swam +fish. The trail to the caņon-bed was always bad, and generally +dangerous. In many instances we found it bordered with the bones of +horses that had failed. The river had somehow to be forded. We would +camp a day or so in the good feed and among the fine groves of trees, +fish in the river, and then address ourselves with much reluctance to +the ascent of the other bad and dangerous trail on the other side. +After that, in the natural course of events, subject to variation, we +could expect nice trails, the comfort of easy travel, pines, cedars, +redwoods, and joy of life until another great cleft opened before us or +another great mountain-pass barred our way. + +This was the web and woof of our summer. But through it ran the +patterns of fantastic delight such as the West alone can offer a man's +utter disbelief in them. Some of these patterns stand out in memory +with peculiar distinctness. + +Below Farewell Gap is a wide caņon with high walls of dark rock, and +down those walls run many streams of water. They are white as snow +with the dash of their descent, but so distant that the eye cannot +distinguish their motion. In the half light of dawn, with the yellow +of sunrise behind the mountains, they look like gauze streamers thrown +out from the windows of morning to celebrate the solemn pageant of the +passing of many hills. + +Again, I know of a caņon whose westerly wall is colored in the dull +rich colors, the fantastic patterns of a Moorish tapestry. Umber, seal +brown, red, terra-cotta, orange, Nile green, emerald, purple, cobalt +blue, gray, lilac, and many other colors, all rich with the depth of +satin, glow wonderful as the craftiest textures. Only here the fabric +is five miles long and half a mile wide. + +There is no use in telling of these things. They, and many others of +their like, are marvels, and exist; but you cannot tell about them, for +the simple reason that the average reader concludes at once you must be +exaggerating, must be carried away by the swing of words. The cold +sober truth is, you cannot exaggerate. They haven't made the words. +Talk as extravagantly as you wish to one who will in the most childlike +manner believe every syllable you utter. Then take him into the Big +Country. He will probably say, "Why, you didn't tell me it was going +to be anything like THIS!" We in the East have no standards of +comparison either as regards size or as regards color--especially +color. Some people once directed me to "The Gorge" on the New England +coast. I couldn't find it. They led me to it, and rhapsodized over +its magnificent terror. I could have ridden a horse into the +ridiculous thing. As for color, no Easterner believes in it when such +men as Lungren or Parrish transposit it faithfully, any more than a +Westerner would believe in the autumn foliage of our own hardwoods, or +an Englishman in the glories of our gaudiest sunsets. They are all +true. + +In the mountains, the high mountains above the seven or eight thousand +foot level, grows an affair called the snow-plant. It is, when full +grown, about two feet in height, and shaped like a loosely constructed +pine-cone set up on end. Its entire substance is like wax, and the +whole concern--stalk, broad curling leaves, and all--is a brilliant +scarlet. Sometime you will ride through the twilight of deep pine woods +growing on the slope of the mountain, a twilight intensified, rendered +more sacred to your mood by the external brilliancy of a glimpse of +vivid blue sky above dazzling snow mountains far away. Then, in this +monotone of dark green frond and dull brown trunk and deep olive +shadow, where, like the ordered library of one with quiet tastes, +nothing breaks the harmony of unobtrusive tone, suddenly flames the +vivid red of a snow-plant. You will never forget it. + +Flowers in general seem to possess this concentrated brilliancy both of +color and of perfume. You will ride into and out of strata of perfume +as sharply defined as are the quartz strata on the ridges. They lie +sluggish and cloying in the hollows, too heavy to rise on the wings of +the air. + +As for color, you will see all sorts of queer things. The ordered +flower-science of your childhood has gone mad. You recognize some of +your old friends, but strangely distorted and changed,--even the dear +old "butter 'n eggs" has turned pink! Patches of purple, of red, of +blue, of yellow, of orange are laid in the hollows or on the slopes +like brilliant blankets out to dry in the sun. The fine grasses are +spangled with them, so that in the cup of the great fierce countries +the meadows seem like beautiful green ornaments enameled with jewels. +The Mariposa Lily, on the other hand, is a poppy-shaped flower varying +from white to purple, and with each petal decorated by an "eye" exactly +like those on the great Cecropia or Polyphemus moths, so that their +effect is that of a flock of gorgeous butterflies come to rest. They +hover over the meadows poised. A movement would startle them to +flight; only the proper movement somehow never comes. + +The great redwoods, too, add to the colored-edition impression of the +whole country. A redwood, as perhaps you know, is a tremendous big +tree sometimes as big as twenty feet in diameter. It is exquisitely +proportioned like a fluted column of noble height. Its bark is +slightly furrowed longitudinally, and of a peculiar elastic appearance +that lends it an almost perfect illusion of breathing animal life. The +color is a rich umber red. Sometimes in the early morning or the late +afternoon, when all the rest of the forest is cast in shadow, these +massive trunks will glow as though incandescent. The Trail, wonderful +always, here seems to pass through the outer portals of the great +flaming regions where dwell the risings and fallings of days. + +As you follow the Trail up, you will enter also the permanent +dwelling-places of the seasons. With us each visits for the space of a +few months, then steals away to give place to the next. Whither they +go you have not known until you have traveled the high mountains. +Summer lives in the valley; that you know. Then a little higher you +are in the spring-time, even in August. Melting patches of snow linger +under the heavy firs; the earth is soggy with half-absorbed snow-water, +trickling with exotic little rills that do not belong; grasses of the +year before float like drowned hair in pellucid pools with an air of +permanence, except for the one fact; fresh green things are sprouting +bravely; through bare branches trickles a shower of bursting buds, +larger at the top, as though the Sower had in passing scattered them +from above. Birds of extraordinary cheerfulness sing merrily to new +and doubtful flowers. The air tastes cold, but the sun is warm. The +great spring humming and promise is in the air. And a few thousand +feet higher you wallow over the surface of drifts while a winter wind +searches your bones. I used to think that Santa Claus dwelt at the +North Pole. Now I am convinced that he has a workshop somewhere among +the great mountains where dwell the Seasons, and that his reindeer paw +for grazing in the alpine meadows below the highest peaks. + +Here the birds migrate up and down instead of south and north. It must +be a great saving of trouble to them, and undoubtedly those who have +discovered it maintain toward the unenlightened the same delighted and +fraternal secrecy with which you and I guard the knowledge of a good +trout-stream. When you can migrate adequately in a single day, why +spend a month at it? + +Also do I remember certain spruce woods with openings where the sun +shone through. The shadows were very black, the sunlight very white. +As I looked back I could see the pack-horses alternately suffer eclipse +and illumination in a strange flickering manner good to behold. The +dust of the trail eddied and billowed lazily in the sun, each mote +flashing as though with life; then abruptly as it crossed the sharp +line of shade it disappeared. + +From these spruce woods, level as a floor, we came out on the rounded +shoulder of a mountain to find ourselves nearly nine thousand feet +above the sea. Below us was a deep caņon to the middle of the earth. +And spread in a semicircle about the curve of our mountain a most +magnificent panoramic view. First there were the plains, represented by +a brown haze of heat; then, very remote, the foot-hills, the +brush-hills, the pine mountains, the upper timber, the tremendous +granite peaks, and finally the barrier of the main crest with its +glittering snow. From the plains to that crest was over seventy miles. +I should not dare say how far we could see down the length of the +range; nor even how distant was the other wall of the caņon over which +we rode. Certainly it was many miles; and to reach the latter point +consumed three days. + +It is useless to multiply instances. The principle is well enough +established by these. Whatever impression of your trail you carry away +will come from the little common occurrences of every day. That is +true of all trails; and equally so, it seems to me, of our Trail of +Life sketched at the beginning of this essay. + +But the trail of the mountains means more than wonder; it means hard +work. Unless you stick to the beaten path, where the freighters have +lost so many mules that they have finally decided to fix things up a +bit, you are due for lots of trouble. Bad places will come to be a +nightmare with you and a topic of conversation with whomever you may +meet. We once enjoyed the company of a prospector three days while he +made up his mind to tackle a certain bit of trail we had just +descended. Our accounts did not encourage him. Every morning he used +to squint up at the cliff which rose some four thousand feet above us. +"Boys," he said finally as he started, "I may drop in on you later in +the morning." I am happy to say he did not. + +The most discouraging to the tenderfoot, but in reality the safest of +all bad trails, is the one that skirts a precipice. Your horse +possesses a laudable desire to spare your inside leg unnecessary +abrasion, so he walks on the extreme outer edge. If you watch the +performance of the animal ahead, you will observe that every few +moments his outer hind hoof slips off that edge, knocking little stones +down into the abyss. Then you conclude that sundry slight jars you have +been experiencing are from the same cause. Your peace of mind deserts +you. You stare straight ahead, sit VERY light indeed, and perhaps turn +the least bit sick. The horse, however, does not mind, nor will you, +after a little. There is absolutely nothing to do but to sit steady +and give your animal his head. In a fairly extended experience I never +got off the edge but once. Then somebody shot a gun immediately ahead; +my horse tried to turn around, slipped, and slid backwards until he +overhung the chasm. Fortunately his hind feet caught a tiny bush. He +gave a mighty heave, and regained the trail. Afterwards I took a look +and found that there were no more bushes for a hundred feet either way. + +Next in terror to the unaccustomed is an ascent by lacets up a very +steep side hill. The effect is cumulative. Each turn brings you one +stage higher, adds definitely one more unit to the test of your +hardihood. This last has not terrified you; how about the next? or the +next? or the one after that? There is not the slightest danger. You +appreciate this point after you have met head-on some old-timer. After +you have speculated frantically how you are to pass him, he solves the +problem by calmly turning his horse off the edge and sliding to the +next lacet below. Then you see that with a mountain horse it does not +much matter whether you get off such a trail or not. + +The real bad places are quite as likely to be on the level as on the +slant. The tremendous granite slides, where the cliff has avalanched +thousands of tons of loose jagged rock-fragments across the passage, +are the worst. There your horse has to be a goat in balance. He must +pick his way from the top of one fragment to the other, and if he slips +into the interstices he probably breaks a leg. In some parts of the +granite country are also smooth rock aprons where footing is especially +difficult, and where often a slip on them means a toboggan chute off +into space. I know of one spot where such an apron curves off the +shoulder of the mountain. Your horse slides directly down it until his +hoofs encounter a little crevice. Checking at this, he turns sharp to +the left and so off to the good trail again. If he does not check at +the little crevice, he slides on over the curve of the shoulder and +lands too far down to bury. + +Loose rocks in numbers on a very steep and narrow trail are always an +abomination, and a numerous abomination at that. A horse slides, +skates, slithers. It has always seemed to me that luck must count +largely in such a place. When the animal treads on a loose round +stone--as he does every step of the way--that stone is going to roll +under him, and he is going to catch himself as the nature of that stone +and the little gods of chance may will. Only furthermore I have +noticed that the really good horse keeps his feet, and the poor one +tumbles. A judgmatical rider can help a great deal by the delicacy of +his riding and the skill with which he uses his reins. Or better +still, get off and walk. + +Another mean combination, especially on a slant, is six inches of snow +over loose stones or small boulders. There you hope for divine favor +and flounder ahead. There is one compensation; the snow is soft to +fall on. Boggy areas you must be able to gauge the depth of at a +glance. And there are places, beautiful to behold, where a horse +clambers up the least bit of an ascent, hits his pack against a +projection, and is hurled into outer space. You must recognize these, +for he will be busy with his feet. + +Some of the mountain rivers furnish pleasing afternoons of sport. They +are deep and swift, and below the ford are rapids. If there is a +fallen tree of any sort across them,--remember the length of California +trees, and do not despise the rivers,--you would better unpack, carry +your goods across yourself, and swim the pack-horses. If the current +is very bad, you can splice riatas, hitch one end to the horse and the +other to a tree on the farther side, and start the combination. The +animal is bound to swing across somehow. Generally you can drive them +over loose. In swimming a horse from the saddle, start him well +upstream to allow for the current, and never, never, never attempt to +guide him by the bit. The Tenderfoot tried that at Mono Creek and +nearly drowned himself and Old Slob. You would better let him alone, +as he probably knows more than you do. If you must guide him, do it by +hitting the side of his head with the flat of your hand. + +Sometimes it is better that you swim. You can perform that feat by +clinging to his mane on the downstream side, but it will be easier both +for you and him if you hang to his tail. Take my word for it, he will +not kick you. + +Once in a blue moon you may be able to cross the whole outfit on logs. +Such a log bridge spanned Granite Creek near the North Fork of the San +Joaquin at an elevation of about seven thousand feet. It was suspended +a good twenty feet above the water, which boiled white in a most +disconcerting manner through a gorge of rocks. If anything fell off +that log it would be of no further value even to the curiosity seeker. +We got over all the horses save Tunemah. He refused to consider it, +nor did peaceful argument win. As he was more or less of a fool, we +did not take this as a reflection on our judgment, but culled cedar +clubs. We beat him until we were ashamed. Then we put a slip-noose +about his neck. The Tenderfoot and I stood on the log and heaved while +Wes stood on the shore and pushed. Suddenly it occurred to me that if +Tunemah made up his silly mind to come, he would probably do it all at +once, in which case the Tenderfoot and I would have about as much show +for life as fossil formations. I didn't say anything about it to the +Tenderfoot, but I hitched my six-shooter around to the front, resolved +to find out how good I was at wing-shooting horses. But Tunemah +declared he would die for his convictions. "All right," said we, "die +then," with the embellishment of profanity. So we stripped him naked, +and stoned him into the raging stream, where he had one chance in three +of coming through alive. He might as well be dead as on the other side +of that stream. He won through, however, and now I believe he'd tackle +a tight rope. + +Of such is the Trail, of such its wonders, its pleasures, its little +comforts, its annoyances, its dangers. And when you are forced to draw +your six-shooter to end mercifully the life of an animal that has +served you faithfully, but that has fallen victim to the leg-breaking +hazard of the way, then you know a little of its tragedy also. May you +never know the greater tragedy when a man's life goes out, and you +unable to help! May always your trail lead through fine trees, green +grasses, fragrant flowers, and pleasant waters! + + + +X + +ON SEEING DEER + +Once I happened to be sitting out a dance with a tactful young girl of +tender disposition who thought she should adapt her conversation to the +one with whom she happened to be talking. Therefore she asked +questions concerning out-of-doors. She knew nothing whatever about it, +but she gave a very good imitation of one interested. For some occult +reason people never seem to expect me to own evening clothes, or to +know how to dance, or to be able to talk about anything civilized; in +fact, most of them appear disappointed that I do not pull off a war-jig +in the middle of the drawing-room. + +This young girl selected deer as her topic. She mentioned liquid eyes, +beautiful form, slender ears; she said "cute," and "darlings," and +"perfect dears." Then she shuddered prettily. + +"And I don't see how you can ever BEAR to shoot them, Mr. White," she +concluded. + +"You quarter the onions and slice them very thin," said I dreamily. +"Then you take a little bacon fat you had left over from the flap-jacks +and put it in the frying-pan. The frying-pan should be very hot. While +the onions are frying, you must keep turning them over with a fork. +It's rather difficult to get them all browned without burning some. I +should broil the meat. A broiler is handy, but two willows, peeled and +charred a little so the willow taste won't penetrate the meat, will do. +Have the steak fairly thick. Pepper and salt it thoroughly. Sear it +well at first in order to keep the juices in; then cook rather slowly. +When it is done, put it on a hot plate and pour the browned onions, +bacon fat and all, over it." + +"What ARE you talking about?" she interrupted. + +"I'm telling you why I can bear to shoot deer," said I. + +"But I don't see--" said she. + +"Don't you?" said I. "Well; suppose you've been climbing a mountain +late in the afternoon when the sun is on the other side of it. It is a +mountain of big boulders, loose little stones, thorny bushes. The +slightest misstep would send pebbles rattling, brush rustling; but you +have gone all the way without making that misstep. This is quite a +feat. It means that you've known all about every footstep you've +taken. That would be business enough for most people, wouldn't it? +But in addition you've managed to see EVERYTHING on that side of the +mountain--especially patches of brown. You've seen lots of patches of +brown, and you've examined each one of them. Besides that, you've +heard lots of little rustlings, and you've identified each one of them. +To do all these things well keys your nerves to a high tension, doesn't +it? And then near the top you look up from your last noiseless step to +see in the brush a very dim patch of brown. If you hadn't been looking +so hard, you surely wouldn't have made it out. Perhaps, if you're not +humble-minded, you may reflect that most people wouldn't have seen it +at all. You whistle once sharply. The patch of brown defines itself. +Your heart gives one big jump. You know that you have but the briefest +moment, the tiniest fraction of time, to hold the white bead of your +rifle motionless and to press the trigger. It has to be done VERY +steadily, at that distance,--and you out of breath, with your nerves +keyed high in the tension of such caution." + +"NOW what are you talking about?" she broke in helplessly. + +"Oh, didn't I mention it?" I asked, surprised. "I was telling you why I +could bear to shoot deer." + +"Yes, but--" she began. + +"Of course not," I reassured her. "After all, it's very simple. The +reason I can bear to kill deer is because, to kill deer, you must +accomplish a skillful elimination of the obvious." + +My young lady was evidently afraid of being considered stupid; and also +convinced of her inability to understand what I was driving at. So she +temporized in the manner of society. + +"I see," she said, with an air of complete enlightenment. + +Now of course she did not see. Nobody could see the force of that last +remark without the grace of further explanation, and yet in the +elimination of the obvious rests the whole secret of seeing deer in the +woods. + +In traveling the trail you will notice two things: that a tenderfoot +will habitually contemplate the horn of his saddle or the trail a few +yards ahead of his horse's nose, with occasionally a look about at the +landscape; and the old-timer will be constantly searching the prospect +with keen understanding eyes. Now in the occasional glances the +tenderfoot takes, his perceptions have room for just so many +impressions. When the number is filled out he sees nothing more. +Naturally the obvious features of the landscape supply the basis for +these impressions. He sees the configuration of the mountains, the +nature of their covering, the course of their ravines, first of all. +Then if he looks more closely, there catches his eye an odd-shaped +rock, a burned black stub, a flowering bush, or some such matter. +Anything less striking in its appeal to the attention actually has not +room for its recognition. In other words, supposing that a man has the +natural ability to receive x visual impressions, the tenderfoot fills +out his full capacity with the striking features of his surroundings. +To be able to see anything more obscure in form or color, he must +naturally put aside from his attention some one or another of these +obvious features. He can, for example, look for a particular kind of +flower on a side hill only by refusing to see other kinds. + +If this is plain, then, go one step further in the logic of that +reasoning. Put yourself in the mental attitude of a man looking for +deer. His eye sweeps rapidly over a side hill; so rapidly that you +cannot understand how he can have gathered the main features of that +hill, let alone concentrate and refine his attention to the seeing of +an animal under a bush. As a matter of fact he pays no attention to the +main features. He has trained his eye, not so much to see things, as +to leave things out. The odd-shaped rock, the charred stub, the bright +flowering bush do not exist for him. His eye passes over them as +unseeing as yours over the patch of brown or gray that represents his +quarry. His attention stops on the unusual, just as does yours; only +in his case the unusual is not the obvious. He has succeeded by long +training in eliminating that. Therefore he sees deer where you do not. +As soon as you can forget the naturally obvious and construct an +artificially obvious, then you too will see deer. + +These animals are strangely invisible to the untrained eye even when +they are standing "in plain sight." You can look straight at them, and +not see them at all. Then some old woodsman lets you sight over his +finger exactly to the spot. At once the figure of the deer fairly +leaps into vision. I know of no more perfect example of the +instantaneous than this. You are filled with astonishment that you +could for a moment have avoided seeing it. And yet next time you will +in all probability repeat just this "puzzle picture" experience. + +The Tenderfoot tried for six weeks before he caught sight of one. He +wanted to very much. Time and again one or the other of us would hiss +back, "See the deer! over there by the yellow bush!" but before he +could bring the deliberation of his scrutiny to the point of +identification, the deer would be gone. Once a fawn jumped fairly +within ten feet of the pack-horses and went bounding away through the +bushes, and that fawn he could not help seeing. We tried +conscientiously enough to get him a shot; but the Tenderfoot was unable +to move through the brush less majestically than a Pullman car, so we +had ended by becoming apathetic on the subject. + +Finally, while descending a very abrupt mountain-side I made out a buck +lying down perhaps three hundred feet directly below us. The buck was +not looking our way, so I had time to call the Tenderfoot. He came. +With difficulty and by using my rifle-barrel as a pointer I managed to +show him the animal. Immediately he began to pant as though at the +finish of a mile race, and his rifle, when he leveled it, covered a +good half acre of ground. This would never do. + +"Hold on!" I interrupted sharply. + +He lowered his weapon to stare at me wild-eyed. + +"What is it?" he gasped. + +"Stop a minute!" I commanded. "Now take three deep breaths." + +He did so. + +"Now shoot," I advised, "and aim at his knees." + +The deer was now on his feet and facing us, so the Tenderfoot had the +entire length of the animal to allow for lineal variation. He fired. +The deer dropped. The Tenderfoot thrust his hat over one eye, rested +hand on hip in a manner cocky to behold. + +"Simply slaughter!" he proffered with lofty scorn. + +We descended. The bullet had broken the deer's back--about six inches +from the tail. The Tenderfoot had overshot by at least three feet. + +You will see many deer thus from the trail,--in fact, we kept up our +meat supply from the saddle, as one might say,--but to enjoy the finer +savor of seeing deer, you should start out definitely with that object +in view. Thus you have opportunity for the display of a certain finer +woodcraft. You must know where the objects of your search are likely +to be found, and that depends on the time of year, the time of days +their age, their sex, a hundred little things. When the bucks carry +antlers in the velvet, they frequent the inaccessibilities of the +highest rocky peaks, so their tender horns may not be torn in the +brush, but nevertheless so that the advantage of a lofty viewpoint may +compensate for the loss of cover. Later you will find them in the open +slopes of a lower altitude, fully exposed to the sun, that there the +heat may harden the antlers. Later still, the heads in fine condition +and tough to withstand scratches, they plunge into the dense thickets. +But in the mean time the fertile does have sought a lower country with +patches of small brush interspersed with open passages. There they can +feed with their fawns, completely concealed, but able, by merely +raising the head, to survey the entire landscape for the threatening of +danger. The barren does, on the other hand, you will find through the +timber and brush, for they are careless of all responsibilities either +to offspring or headgear. These are but a few of the considerations +you will take into account, a very few of the many which lend the deer +countries strange thrills of delight over new knowledge gained, over +crafty expedients invented or well utilized, over the satisfactory +matching of your reason, your instinct, your subtlety and skill against +the reason, instinct, subtlety, and skill of one of the wariest of +large wild animals. + +Perversely enough the times when you did NOT see deer are more apt to +remain vivid in your memory than the times when you did. I can still +see distinctly sundry wide jump-marks where the animal I was tracking +had evidently caught sight of me and lit out before I came up to him. +Equally, sundry little thin disappearing clouds of dust; cracklings of +brush, growing ever more distant; the tops of bushes waving to the +steady passage of something remaining persistently concealed,--these +are the chief ingredients often repeated which make up deer-stalking +memory. When I think of seeing deer, these things automatically rise. + +A few of the deer actually seen do, however, stand out clearly from the +many. When I was a very small boy possessed of a 32-20 rifle and large +ambitions, I followed the advantage my father's footsteps made me in +the deep snow of an unused logging-road. His attention was focused on +some very interesting fresh tracks. I, being a small boy, cared not at +all for tracks, and so saw a big doe emerge from the bushes not ten +yards away, lope leisurely across the road, and disappear, wagging +earnestly her tail. When I had recovered my breath I vehemently +demanded the sense of fooling with tracks when there were real live +deer to be had. My father examined me. + +"Well, why didn't you shoot her?" he inquired dryly. + +I hadn't thought of that. + +In the spring of 1900 I was at the head of the Piant River waiting for +the log-drive to start. One morning, happening to walk over a slashing +of many years before in which had grown a strong thicket of white +popples, I jumped a band of nine deer. I shall never forget the +bewildering impression made by the glancing, dodging, bouncing white of +those nine snowy tails and rumps. + +But most wonderful of all was a great buck, of I should be afraid to +say how many points, that stood silhouetted on the extreme end of a +ridge high above our camp. The time was just after twilight, and as we +watched, the sky lightened behind him in prophecy of the moon. + + + + +ON TENDERFEET + + + +XI + +ON TENDERFEET + +The tenderfoot is a queer beast. He makes more trouble than ants at a +picnic, more work than a trespassing goat; he never sees anything, +knows where anything is, remembers accurately your instructions, +follows them if remembered, or is able to handle without awkwardness +his large and pathetic hands and feet; he is always lost, always +falling off or into things, always in difficulties; his articles of +necessity are constantly being burned up or washed away or mislaid; he +looks at you beamingly through great innocent eyes in the most +chuckle-headed of manners; he exasperates you to within an inch of +explosion,--and yet you love him. + +I am referring now to the real tenderfoot, the fellow who cannot learn, +who is incapable ever of adjusting himself to the demands of the wild +life. Sometimes a man is merely green, inexperienced. But give him a +chance and he soon picks up the game. That is your greenhorn, not your +tenderfoot. Down near Monache meadows we came across an individual +leading an old pack-mare up the trail. The first thing, he asked us to +tell him where he was. We did so. Then we noticed that he carried his +gun muzzle-up in his hip-pocket, which seemed to be a nice way to shoot +a hole in your hand, but a poor way to make your weapon accessible. He +unpacked near us, and promptly turned the mare into a bog-hole because +it looked green. Then he stood around the rest of the evening and +talked deprecating talk of a garrulous nature. + +"Which way did you come?" asked Wes. + +The stranger gave us a hazy account of misnamed caņons, by which we +gathered that he had come directly over the rough divide below us. + +"But if you wanted to get to Monache, why didn't you go around to the +eastward through that pass, there, and save yourself all the climb? It +must have been pretty rough through there." + +"Yes, perhaps so," he hesitated. "Still--I got lots of time--I can +take all summer, if I want to--and I'd rather stick to a straight +line--then you know where you ARE--if you get off the straight line, +you're likely to get lost, you know." + +We knew well enough what ailed him, of course. He was a tenderfoot, of +the sort that always, to its dying day, unhobbles its horses before +putting their halters on. Yet that man for thirty-two years had lived +almost constantly in the wild countries. He had traveled more miles +with a pack-train than we shall ever dream of traveling, and hardly +could we mention a famous camp of the last quarter century that he had +not blundered into. Moreover he proved by the indirections of his +misinformation that he had really been there and was not making ghost +stories in order to impress us. Yet if the Lord spares him thirty-two +years more, at the end of that time he will probably still be carrying +his gun upside down, turning his horse into a bog-hole, and blundering +through the country by main strength and awkwardness. He was a +beautiful type of the tenderfoot. + +The redeeming point of the tenderfoot is his humbleness of spirit and +his extreme good nature. He exasperates you with his fool performances +to the point of dancing cursing wild crying rage, and then accepts +your--well, reproofs--so meekly that you come off the boil as though +some one had removed you from the fire, and you feel like a low-browed +thug. + +Suppose your particular tenderfoot to be named Algernon. Suppose him +to have packed his horse loosely--they always do--so that the pack has +slipped, the horse has bucked over three square miles of assorted +mountains, and the rest of the train is scattered over identically that +area. You have run your saddle-horse to a lather heading the outfit. +You have sworn and dodged and scrambled and yelled, even fired your +six-shooter, to turn them and bunch them. In the mean time Algernon +has either sat his horse like a park policeman in his leisure hours, or +has ambled directly into your path of pursuit on an average of five +times a minute. Then the trouble dies from the landscape and the baby +bewilderment from his eyes. You slip from your winded horse and +address Algernon with elaborate courtesy. + +"My dear fellow," you remark, "did you not see that the thing for you +to do was to head them down by the bottom of that little gulch there? +Don't you really think ANYBODY would have seen it? What in hades do +you think I wanted to run my horse all through those boulders for? Do +you think I want to get him lame 'way up here in the hills? I don't +mind telling a man a thing once, but to tell it to him fifty-eight +times and then have it do no good-- Have you the faintest recollection +of my instructing you to turn the bight OVER instead of UNDER when you +throw that pack-hitch? If you'd remember that, we shouldn't have had +all this trouble." + +"You didn't tell me to head them by the little gulch," babbles Algernon. + +This is just the utterly fool reply that upsets your artificial and +elaborate courtesy. You probably foam at the mouth, and dance on your +hat, and shriek wild imploring imprecations to the astonished hills. +This is not because you have an unfortunate disposition, but because +Algernon has been doing precisely the same thing for two months. + +"Listen to him!" you howl. "Didn't tell him! Why you gangle-legged +bug-eyed soft-handed pop-eared tenderfoot, you! there are some things +you never THINK of telling a man. I never told you to open your mouth +to spit, either. If you had a hired man at five dollars a year who was +so all-around hopelessly thick-headed and incompetent as you are, you'd +fire him to-morrow morning." + +Then Algernon looks truly sorry, and doesn't answer back as he ought to +in order to give occasion for the relief of a really soul-satisfying +scrap, and utters the soft answer humbly. So your wrath is turned and +there remain only the dregs which taste like some of Algernon's cooking. + +It is rather good fun to relieve the bitterness of the heart. Let me +tell you a few more tales of the tenderfoot, premising always that I +love him, and when at home seek him out to smoke pipes at his fireside, +to yarn over the trail, to wonder how much rancor he cherishes against +the maniacs who declaimed against him, and by way of compensation to +build up in the mind of his sweetheart, his wife, or his mother a +fearful and wonderful reputation for him as the Terror of the Trail. +These tales are selected from many, mere samples of a varied +experience. They occurred here, there, and everywhere, and at various +times. Let no one try to lay them at the door of our Tenderfoot merely +because such is his title in this narrative. We called him that by way +of distinction. + +Once upon a time some of us were engaged in climbing a mountain rising +some five thousand feet above our starting-place. As we toiled along, +one of the pack-horses became impatient and pushed ahead. We did not +mind that, especially, as long as she stayed in sight, but in a little +while the trail was closed in by brush and timber. + +"Algernon," said we, "just push on and get ahead of that mare, will +you?" + +Algernon disappeared. We continued to climb. The trail was steep and +rather bad. The labor was strenuous, and we checked off each thousand +feet with thankfulness. As we saw nothing further of Algernon, we +naturally concluded he had headed the mare and was continuing on the +trail. Then through a little opening we saw him riding cheerfully +along without a care to occupy his mind. Just for luck we hailed him. + +"Hi there, Algernon! Did you find her?" + +"Haven't seen her yet." + +"Well, you'd better push on a little faster. She may leave the trail +at the summit." + +Then one of us, endowed by heaven with a keen intuitive instinct for +tenderfeet,--no one could have a knowledge of them, they are too +unexpected,--had an inspiration. + +"I suppose there are tracks on the trail ahead of you?" he called. + +We stared at each other, then at the trail. Only one horse had +preceded us,--that of the tenderfoot. But of course Algernon was +nevertheless due for his chuckle-headed reply. + +"I haven't looked," said he. + +That raised the storm conventional to such an occasion. + +"What in the name of seventeen little dicky-birds did you think you +were up to!" we howled. "Were you going to ride ahead until dark in +the childlike faith that that mare might show up somewhere? Here's a +nice state of affairs. The trail is all tracked up now with our +horses, and heaven knows whether she's left tracks where she turned +off. It may be rocky there." + +We tied the animals savagely, and started back on foot. It would be +criminal to ask our saddle-horses to repeat that climb. Algernon we +ordered to stay with them. + +"And don't stir from them no matter what happens, or you'll get lost," +we commanded out of the wisdom of long experience. + +We climbed down the four thousand odd feet, and then back again, +leading the mare. She had turned off not forty rods from where +Algernon had taken up her pursuit. + +Your Algernon never does get down to little details like tracks--his +scheme of life is much too magnificent. To be sure he would not know +fresh tracks from old if he should see them; so it is probably quite as +well. In the morning he goes out after the horses. The bunch he finds +easily enough, but one is missing. What would you do about it? You +would naturally walk in a circle around the bunch until you crossed the +track of the truant leading away from it, wouldn't you? If you made a +wide enough circle you would inevitably cross that track, wouldn't you? +provided the horse started out with the bunch in the first place. Then +you would follow the track, catch the horse, and bring him back. Is +this Algernon's procedure? Not any. "Ha!" says he, "old Brownie is +missing. I will hunt him up." Then he maunders off into the scenery, +trusting to high heaven that he is going to blunder against Brownie as +a prominent feature of the landscape. After a couple of hours you +probably saddle up Brownie and go out to find the tenderfoot. + +He has a horrifying facility in losing himself. Nothing is more +cheering than to arise from a hard-earned couch of ease for the purpose +of trailing an Algernon or so through the gathering dusk to the spot +where he has managed to find something--a very real despair of ever +getting back to food and warmth. Nothing is more irritating then than +his gratitude. + +I traveled once in the Black Hills with such a tenderfoot. We were off +from the base of supplies for a ten days' trip with only a saddle-horse +apiece. This was near first principles, as our total provisions +consisted of two pounds of oatmeal, some tea, and sugar. Among other +things we climbed Mt. Harney. The trail, after we left the horses, was +as plain as a strip of Brussels carpet, but somehow or another that +tenderfoot managed to get off it. I hunted him up. We gained the top, +watched the sunset, and started down. The tenderfoot, I thought, was +fairly at my coat-tails, but when I turned to speak to him he had gone; +he must have turned off at one of the numerous little openings in the +brush. I sat down to wait. By and by, away down the west slope of the +mountain, I heard a shot, and a faint, a very faint, despairing yell. +I, also, shot and yelled. After various signals of the sort, it became +evident that the tenderfoot was approaching. In a moment he tore by at +full speed, his hat off, his eye wild, his six-shooter popping at every +jump. He passed within six feet of me, and never saw me. Subsequently +I left him on the prairie, with accurate and simple instructions. + +"There's the mountain range. You simply keep that to your left and +ride eight hours. Then you'll see Rapid City. You simply CAN'T get +lost. Those hills stick out like a sore thumb." + +Two days later he drifted into Rapid City, having wandered off +somewhere to the east. How he had done it I can never guess. That is +his secret. + +The tenderfoot is always in hard luck. Apparently, too, by all tests +of analysis it is nothing but luck, pure chance, misfortune. And yet +the very persistence of it in his case, where another escapes, perhaps +indicates that much of what we call good luck is in reality unconscious +skill in the arrangement of those elements which go to make up events. +A persistently unlucky man is perhaps sometimes to be pitied, but more +often to be booted. That philosophy will be cryingly unjust about once +in ten. + +But lucky or unlucky, the tenderfoot is human. Ordinarily that doesn't +occur to you. He is a malevolent engine of destruction--quite as +impersonal as heat or cold or lack of water. He is an unfortunate +article of personal belonging requiring much looking after to keep in +order. He is a credulous and convenient response to practical jokes, +huge tales, misinformation. He is a laudable object of attrition for +the development of your character. But somehow, in the woods, he is +not as other men, and so you do not come to feel yourself in close +human relations to him. + +But Algernon is real, nevertheless. He has feelings, even if you do +not respect them. He has his little enjoyments, even though he does +rarely contemplate anything but the horn of his saddle. + +"Algernon," you cry, "for heaven's sake stick that saddle of yours in a +glass case and glut yourself with the sight of its ravishing beauties +next WINTER. For the present do gaze on the mountains. That's what you +came for." + +No use. + +He has, doubtless, a full range of all the appreciative emotions, +though from his actions you'd never suspect it. Most human of all, he +possesses his little vanities. + +Algernon always overdoes the equipment question. If it is +bird-shooting, he accumulates leggings and canvas caps and belts and +dog-whistles and things until he looks like a picture from a +department-store catalogue. In the cow country he wears Stetson hats, +snake bands, red handkerchiefs, six-shooters, chaps, and huge spurs +that do not match his face. If it is yachting, he has a chronometer +with a gong in the cabin of a five-ton sailboat, possesses a +nickle-plated machine to register the heel of his craft, sports a +brass-bound yachting-cap and all the regalia. This is merely amusing. +But I never could understand his insane desire to get sunburned. A man +will get sunburned fast enough; he could not help it if he would. +Algernon usually starts out from town without a hat. Then he dares not +take off his sweater for a week lest it carry away his entire face. I +have seen men with deep sores on their shoulders caused by nothing but +excessive burning in the sun. This, too, is merely amusing. It means +quite simply that Algernon realizes his inner deficiencies and wants to +make up for them by the outward seeming. Be kind to him, for he has +been raised a pet. + +The tenderfoot is lovable--mysterious in how he does it--and awfully +unexpected. + + + +XII + +THE CAŅON + +One day we tied our horses to three bushes, and walked on foot two +hundred yards. Then we looked down. + +It was nearly four thousand feet down. Do you realize how far that is? +There was a river meandering through olive-colored forests. It was so +distant that it was light green and as narrow as a piece of tape. Here +and there were rapids, but so remote that we could not distinguish the +motion of them, only the color. The white resembled tiny dabs of +cotton wool stuck on the tape. It turned and twisted, following the +turns and twists of the caņon. Somehow the level at the bottom +resembled less forests and meadows than a heavy and sluggish fluid like +molasses flowing between the caņon walls. It emerged from the bend of +a sheer cliff ten miles to eastward: it disappeared placidly around the +bend of another sheer cliff an equal distance to the westward. + +The time was afternoon. As we watched, the shadow of the caņon wall +darkened the valley. Whereupon we looked up. + +Now the upper air, of which we were dwellers for the moment, was +peopled by giants and clear atmosphere and glittering sunlight, +flashing like silver and steel and precious stones from the granite +domes, peaks, minarets, and palisades of the High Sierras. Solid as +they were in reality, in the crispness of this mountain air, under the +tangible blue of this mountain sky, they seemed to poise light as so +many balloons. Some of them rose sheer, with hardly a fissure; some +had flung across their shoulders long trailing pine draperies, fine as +fur; others matched mantles of the whitest white against the bluest +blue of the sky. Towards the lower country were more pines rising in +ridges, like the fur of an animal that has been alarmed. + +We dangled our feet over the edge and talked about it. Wes pointed to +the upper end where the sluggish lava-like flow of the caņon-bed first +came into view. + +"That's where we'll camp," said he. + +"When?" we asked. + +"When we get there," he answered. + +For this caņon lies in the heart of the mountains. Those who would +visit it have first to get into the country--a matter of over a week. +Then they have their choice of three probabilities of destruction. + +The first route comprehends two final days of travel at an altitude of +about ten thousand feet, where the snow lies in midsummer; where there +is no feed, no comfort, and the way is strewn with the bones of horses. +This is known as the "Basin Trail." After taking it, you prefer the +others--until you try them. + +The finish of the second route is directly over the summit of a +mountain. You climb two thousand feet and then drop down five. The +ascent is heart-breaking but safe. The descent is hair-raising and +unsafe: no profanity can do justice to it. Out of a pack-train of +thirty mules, nine were lost in the course of that five thousand feet. +Legend has it that once many years ago certain prospectors took in a +Chinese cook. At first the Mongolian bewailed his fate loudly and +fluently, but later settled to a single terrified moan that sounded +like "tu-ne-mah! tu-ne-mah!" The trail was therefore named the +"Tu-ne-mah Trail." It is said that "tu-ne-mah" is the very worst +single vituperation of which the Chinese language is capable. + +The third route is called "Hell's Half Mile." It is not misnamed. + +Thus like paradise the caņon is guarded; but like paradise it is +wondrous in delight. For when you descend you find that the tape-wide +trickle of water seen from above has become a river with profound +darkling pools and placid stretches and swift dashing rapids; that the +dark green sluggish flow in the caņon-bed has disintegrated into a +noble forest with great pine-trees, and shaded aisles, and deep dank +thickets, and brush openings where the sun is warm and the birds are +cheerful, and groves of cottonwoods where all day long softly, like +snow, the flakes of cotton float down through the air. Moreover there +are meadows, spacious lawns, opening out, closing in, winding here and +there through the groves in the manner of spilled naphtha, actually +waist high with green feed, sown with flowers like a brocade. Quaint +tributary little brooks babble and murmur down through these trees, +down through these lawns. A blessed warm sun hums with the joy of +innumerable bees. To right hand and to left, in front of you and +behind, rising sheer, forbidding, impregnable, the cliffs, mountains, +and ranges hem you in. Down the river ten miles you can go: then the +gorge closes, the river grows savage, you can only look down the +tumbling fierce waters and turn back. Up the river five miles you can +go, then interpose the sheer snow-clad cliffs of the Palisades, and +them, rising a matter of fourteen thousand feet, you may not cross. +You are shut in your paradise as completely as though surrounded by +iron bars. + +But, too, the world is shut out. The paradise is yours. In it are +trout and deer and grouse and bear and lazy happy days. Your horses +feed to the fatness of butter. You wander at will in the ample though +definite limits of your domain. You lie on your back and examine +dispassionately, with an interest entirely detached, the huge +cliff-walls of the valley. Days slip by. Really, it needs at least an +angel with a flaming sword to force you to move on. + +We turned away from our view and addressed ourselves to the task of +finding out just when we were going to get there. The first day we +bobbed up and over innumerable little ridges of a few hundred feet +elevation, crossed several streams, and skirted the wide bowl-like +amphitheatre of a basin. The second day we climbed over things and +finally ended in a small hanging park named Alpine Meadows, at an +elevation of eight thousand five hundred feet. There we rested-over a +day, camped under a single pine-tree, with the quick-growing mountain +grasses thick about us, a semicircle of mountains on three sides, and +the plunge into the caņon on the other. As we needed meat, we spent +part of the day in finding a deer. The rest of the time we watched +idly for bear. + +Bears are great travelers. They will often go twenty miles overnight, +apparently for the sheer delight of being on the move. Also are they +exceedingly loath to expend unnecessary energy in getting to places, +and they hate to go down steep hills. You see, their fore legs are +short. Therefore they are skilled in the choice of easy routes through +the mountains, and once having made the choice they stick to it until +through certain narrow places on the route selected they have worn a +trail as smooth as a garden-path. The old prospectors used quite +occasionally to pick out the horse-passes by trusting in general to the +bear migrations, and many a well-traveled route of to-day is +superimposed over the way-through picked out by old bruin long ago. + +Of such was our own trail. Therefore we kept our rifles at hand and +our eyes open for a straggler. But none came, though we baited craftily +with portions of our deer. All we gained was a rattlesnake, and he +seemed a bit out of place so high up in the air. + +Mount Tunemah stood over against us, still twenty-two hundred feet +above our elevation. We gazed on it sadly, for directly by its summit, +and for five hours beyond, lay our trail, and evil of reputation was +that trail beyond all others. The horses, as we bunched them in +preparation for the packing, took on a new interest, for it was on the +cards that the unpacking at evening would find some missing from the +ranks. + +"Lily's a goner, sure," said Wes. "I don't know how she's got this far +except by drunken man's luck. She'll never make the Tunemah." + +"And Tunemah himself," pointed out the Tenderfoot, naming his own fool +horse; "I see where I start in to walk." + +"Sort of a 'morituri te salutamur,'" said I. + +We climbed the two thousand two hundred feet, leading our saddle-horses +to save their strength. Every twenty feet we rested, breathing heavily +of the rarified air. Then at the top of the world we paused on the +brink of nothing to tighten cinches, while the cold wind swept by us, +the snow glittered in a sunlight become silvery like that of early +April, and the giant peaks of the High Sierras lifted into a distance +inconceivably remote, as though the horizon had been set back for their +accommodation. + +To our left lay a windrow of snow such as you will see drifted into a +sharp crest across a corner of your yard; only this windrow was twenty +feet high and packed solid by the sun, the wind, and the weight of its +age. We climbed it and looked over directly into the eye of a round +Alpine lake seven or eight hundred feet below. It was of an intense +cobalt blue, a color to be seen only in these glacial bodies of water, +deep and rich as the mantle of a merchant of Tyre. White ice floated +in it. The savage fierce granite needles and knife-edges of the +mountain crest hemmed it about. + +But this was temporizing, and we knew it. The first drop of the trail +was so steep that we could flip a pebble to the first level of it, and +so rough in its water-and-snow-gouged knuckles of rocks that it seemed +that at the first step a horse must necessarily fall end over end. We +made it successfully, however, and breathed deep. Even Lily, by a +miracle of lucky scrambling, did not even stumble. + +"Now she's easy for a little ways," said Wes, "then we'll get busy." + +When we "got busy" we took our guns in our hands to preserve them from +a fall, and started in. Two more miracles saved Dinkey at two more +places. We spent an hour at one spot, and finally built a new trail +around it. Six times a minute we held our breaths and stood on tiptoe +with anxiety, powerless to help, while the horse did his best. At the +especially bad places we checked them off one after another, +congratulating ourselves on so much saved as each came across without +accident. When there were no bad places, the trail was so +extraordinarily steep that we ahead were in constant dread of a horse's +falling on us from behind, and our legs did become wearied to incipient +paralysis by the constant stiff checking of the descent. Moreover +every second or so one of the big loose stones with which the trail was +cumbered would be dislodged and come bouncing down among us. We dodged +and swore; the horses kicked; we all feared for the integrity of our +legs. The day was full of an intense nervous strain, an entire +absorption in the precise present. We promptly forgot a difficulty as +soon as we were by it: we had not time to think of those still ahead. +All outside the insistence of the moment was blurred and unimportant, +like a specialized focus, so I cannot tell you much about the scenery. +The only outside impression we received was that the caņon floor was +slowly rising to meet us. + +Then strangely enough, as it seemed, we stepped off to level ground. + +Our watches said half-past three. We had made five miles in a little +under seven hours. + +Remained only the crossing of the river. This was no mean task, but we +accomplished it lightly, searching out a ford. There were high +grasses, and on the other side of them a grove of very tall +cottonwoods, clean as a park. First of all we cooked things; then we +spread things; then we lay on our backs and smoked things, our hands +clasped back of our heads. We cocked ironical eyes at the sheer cliff +of old Mount Tunemah, very much as a man would cock his eye at a tiger +in a cage. + +Already the meat-hawks, the fluffy Canada jays, had found us out, and +were prepared to swoop down boldly on whatever offered to their +predatory skill. We had nothing for them yet,--there were no remains of +the lunch,--but the fire-irons were out, and ribs of venison were +roasting slowly over the coals in preparation for the evening meal. +Directly opposite, visible through the lattice of the trees, were two +huge mountain peaks, part of the wall that shut us in, over against us +in a height we had not dared ascribe to the sky itself. By and by the +shadow of these mountains rose on the westerly wall. It crept up at +first slowly, extinguishing color; afterwards more rapidly as the sun +approached the horizon. The sunlight disappeared. A moment's gray +intervened, and then the wonderful golden afterglow laid on the peaks +its enchantment. Little by little that too faded, until at last, far +away, through a rift in the ranks of the giants, but one remained +gilded by the glory of a dream that continued with it after the others. +Heretofore it had seemed to us an insignificant peak, apparently +overtopped by many, but by this token we knew it to be the highest of +them all. + +Then ensued another pause, as though to give the invisible +scene-shifter time to accomplish his work, followed by a shower of +evening coolness, that seemed to sift through the trees like a soft and +gentle rain. We ate again by the flicker of the fire, dabbing a trifle +uncertainly at the food, wondering at the distant mountain on which the +Day had made its final stand, shrinking a little before the stealthy +dark that flowed down the caņon in the manner of a heavy smoke. + +In the notch between the two huge mountains blazed a star,--accurately +in the notch, like the front sight of a rifle sighted into the +marvelous depths of space. Then the moon rose. + +First we knew of it when it touched the crest of our two mountains. +The night has strange effects on the hills. A moment before they had +menaced black and sullen against the sky, but at the touch of the moon +their very substance seemed to dissolve, leaving in the upper +atmosphere the airiest, most nebulous, fragile, ghostly simulacrums of +themselves you could imagine in the realms of fairy-land. They seemed +actually to float, to poise like cloud-shapes about to dissolve. And +against them were cast the inky silhouettes of three fir-trees in the +shadow near at hand. + +Down over the stones rolled the river, crying out to us with the voices +of old accustomed friends in another wilderness. The winds rustled. + + + +XIII + +TROUT, BUCKSKIN, AND PROSPECTORS + +As I have said, a river flows through the caņon. It is a very good +river with some riffles that can be waded down to the edges of black +pools or white chutes of water; with appropriate big trees fallen +slantwise into it to form deep holes; and with hurrying smooth +stretches of some breadth. In all of these various places are rainbow +trout. + +There is no use fishing until late afternoon. The clear sun of the +high altitudes searches out mercilessly the bottom of the stream, +throwing its miniature boulders, mountains, and valleys as plainly into +relief as the buttes of Arizona at noon. Then the trout quite refuse. +Here and there, if you walk far enough and climb hard enough over all +sorts of obstructions, you may discover a few spots shaded by big trees +or rocks where you can pick up a half dozen fish; but it is slow work. +When, however, the shadow of the two huge mountains feels its way +across the stream, then, as though a signal had been given, the trout +begin to rise. For an hour and a half there is noble sport indeed. + +The stream fairly swarmed with them, but of course some places were +better than others. Near the upper reaches the water boiled like +seltzer around the base of a tremendous tree. There the pool was at +least ten feet deep and shot with bubbles throughout the whole of its +depth, but it was full of fish. They rose eagerly to your gyrating +fly,--and took it away with them down to subaqueous chambers and +passages among the roots of that tree. After which you broke your +leader. Royal Coachman was the best lure, and therefore valuable +exceedingly were Royal Coachmen. Whenever we lost one we lifted up our +voices in lament, and went away from there, calling to mind that there +were other pools, many other pools, free of obstruction and with fish +in them. Yet such is the perversity of fishermen, we were back losing +more Royal Coachmen the very next day. In all I managed to disengage +just three rather small trout from that pool, and in return decorated +their ancestral halls with festoons of leaders and the brilliance of +many flies. + +Now this was foolishness. All you had to do was to walk through a +grove of cottonwoods, over a brook, through another grove of pines, +down a sloping meadow to where one of the gigantic pine-trees had +obligingly spanned the current. You crossed that, traversed another +meadow, broke through a thicket, slid down a steep grassy bank, and +there you were. A great many years before a pine-tree had fallen +across the current. Now its whitened skeleton lay there, opposing a +barrier for about twenty-five feet out into the stream. Most of the +water turned aside, of course, and boiled frantically around the end as +though trying to catch up with the rest of the stream which had gone on +without it, but some of it dived down under and came up on the other +side. There, as though bewildered, it paused in an uneasy pool. Its +constant action had excavated a very deep hole, the debris of which had +formed a bar immediately below. You waded out on the bar and cast +along the length of the pine skeleton over the pool. + +If you were methodical, you first shortened your line, and began near +the bank, gradually working out until you were casting forty-five feet +to the very edge of the fast current. I know of nothing pleasanter for +you to do. You see, the evening shadow was across the river, and a +beautiful grass slope at your back. Over the way was a grove of trees +whose birds were very busy because it was near their sunset, while +towering over them were mountains, quite peaceful by way of contrast +because THEIR sunset was still far distant. The river was in a great +hurry, and was talking to itself like a man who has been detained and +is now at last making up time to his important engagement. And from +the deep black shadow beneath the pine skeleton, occasionally flashed +white bodies that made concentric circles where they broke the surface +of the water, and which fought you to a finish in the glory of battle. +The casting was against the current, so your flies could rest but the +briefest possible moment on the surface of the stream. That moment was +enough. Day after day you could catch your required number from an +apparently inexhaustible supply. + +I might inform you further of the gorge downstream, where you lie flat +on your stomach ten feet above the river, and with one hand cautiously +extended over the edge cast accurately into the angle of the cliff. +Then when you get your strike, you tow him downstream, clamber +precariously to the water's level--still playing your fish--and there +land him,--if he has accommodatingly stayed hooked. A three-pound fish +will make you a lot of tribulation at this game. + +We lived on fish and venison, and had all we wanted. The bear-trails +were plenty enough, and the signs were comparatively fresh, but at the +time of our visit the animals themselves had gone over the mountains on +some sort of a picnic. Grouse, too, were numerous in the popple +thickets, and flushed much like our ruffed grouse of the East. They +afforded first-rate wing-shooting for Sure-Pop, the little shot-gun. + +But these things occupied, after all, only a small part of every day. +We had loads of time left. Of course we explored the valley up and +down. That occupied two days. After that we became lazy. One always +does in a permanent camp. So did the horses. Active--or rather +restless interest in life seemed to die away. Neither we nor they had +to rustle hard for food. They became fastidious in their choice, and +at all times of day could be seen sauntering in Indian file from one +part of the meadow to the other for the sole purpose apparently of +cropping a half dozen indifferent mouthfuls. The rest of the time they +roosted under trees, one hind leg relaxed, their eyes half closed, +their ears wabbling, the pictures of imbecile content. We were very +much the same. + +Of course we had our outbursts of virtue. While under their influence +we undertook vast works. But after their influence had died out, we +found ourselves with said vast works on our hands, and so came to +cursing ourselves and our fool spasms of industry. + +For instance, Wes and I decided to make buckskin from the hide of the +latest deer. We did not need the buckskin--we already had two in the +pack. Our ordinary procedure would have been to dry the hide for +future treatment by a Mexican, at a dollar a hide, when we should have +returned home. But, as I said, we were afflicted by sporadic activity, +and wanted to do something. + +We began with great ingenuity by constructing a graining-tool out of a +table-knife. We bound it with rawhide, and encased it with wood, and +wrapped it with cloth, and filed its edge square across, as is proper. +After this we hunted out a very smooth, barkless log, laid the hide +across it, straddled it, and began graining. + +Graining is a delightful process. You grasp the tool by either end, +hold the square edge at a certain angle, and push away from you +mightily. A half-dozen pushes will remove a little patch of hair; +twice as many more will scrape away half as much of the seal-brown +grain, exposing the white of the hide. Then, if you want to, you can +stop and establish in your mind a definite proportion between the +amount thus exposed, the area remaining unexposed, and the muscular +fatigue of these dozen and a half of mighty pushes. The proportion +will be wrong. You have left out of account the fact that you are +going to get almighty sick of the job; that your arms and upper back +are going to ache shrewdly before you are done; and that as you go on +it is going to be increasingly difficult to hold down the edges firmly +enough to offer the required resistance to your knife. Besides--if you +get careless--you'll scrape too hard: hence little holes in the +completed buckskin. Also--if you get careless--you will probably leave +the finest, tiniest shreds of grain, and each of them means a hard +transparent spot in the product. Furthermore, once having started in on +the job, you are like the little boy who caught the trolley: you cannot +let go. It must be finished immediately, all at one heat, before the +hide stiffens. + +Be it understood, your first enthusiasm has evaporated, and you are +thinking of fifty pleasant things you might just as well be doing. + +Next you revel in grease,--lard oil, if you have it; if not, then lard, +or the product of boiled brains. This you must rub into the skin. You +rub it in until you suspect that your finger-nails have worn away, and +you glisten to the elbows like an Eskimo cutting blubber. + +By the merciful arrangement of those who invented buckskin, this +entitles you to a rest. You take it--for several days--until your +conscience seizes you by the scruff of the neck. + +Then you transport gingerly that slippery, clammy, soggy, snaky, cold +bundle of greasy horror to the bank of the creek, and there for endless +hours you wash it. The grease is more reluctant to enter the stream +than you are in the early morning. Your hands turn purple. The others +go by on their way to the trout-pools, but you are chained to the stake. + +By and by you straighten your back with creaks, and walk home like a +stiff old man, carrying your hide rid of all superfluous oil. Then if +you are just learning how, your instructor examines the result. + +"That's all right," says he cheerfully. "Now when it dries, it will be +buckskin." + +That encourages you. It need not. For during the process of drying it +must be your pastime constantly to pull and stretch at every square +inch of that boundless skin in order to loosen all the fibres. +Otherwise it would dry as stiff as whalebone. Now there is nothing on +earth that seems to dry slower than buckskin. You wear your fingers +down to the first joints, and, wishing to preserve the remainder for +future use, you carry the hide to your instructor. + +"Just beginning to dry nicely," says he. + +You go back and do it some more, putting the entire strength of your +body, soul, and religious convictions into the stretching of that +buckskin. It looks as white as paper; and feels as soft and warm as +the turf on a southern slope. Nevertheless your tyrant declares it +will not do. + +"It looks dry, and it feels dry," says he, "but it isn't dry. Go to +it!" + +But at this point your outraged soul arches its back and bucks. You +sneak off and roll up that piece of buckskin, and thrust it into the +alforja. You KNOW it is dry. Then with a deep sigh of relief you come +out of prison into the clear, sane, lazy atmosphere of the camp. + +"Do you mean to tell me that there is any one chump enough to do that +for a dollar a hide?" you inquire. + +"Sure," say they. + +"Well, the Fool Killer is certainly behind on his dates," you conclude. + +About a week later one of your companions drags out of the alforja +something crumpled that resembles in general appearance and texture a +rusted five-gallon coal-oil can that has been in a wreck. It is only +imperceptibly less stiff and angular and cast-iron than rawhide. + +"What is this?" the discoverer inquires. + +Then quietly you go out and sit on a high place before recognition +brings inevitable--and sickening--chaff. For you know it at a glance. +It is your buckskin. + +Along about the middle of that century an old prospector with four +burros descended the Basin Trail and went into camp just below us. +Towards evening he sauntered in. + +I sincerely wish I could sketch this man for you just as he came down +through the fire-lit trees. He was about six feet tall, very leanly +built, with a weather-beaten face of mahogany on which was superimposed +a sweeping mustache and beetling eye-brows. These had originally been +brown, but the sun had bleached them almost white in remarkable +contrast to his complexion. Eyes keen as sunlight twinkled far down +beneath the shadows of the brows and a floppy old sombrero hat. The +usual flannel shirt, waistcoat, mountain-boots, and six-shooter +completed the outfit. He might have been forty, but was probably +nearer sixty years of age. + +"Howdy, boys," said he, and dropped to the fireside, where he promptly +annexed a coal for his pipe. + +We all greeted him, but gradually the talk fell to him and Wes. It was +commonplace talk enough from one point of view: taken in essence it was +merely like the inquiry and answer of the civilized man as to another's +itinerary--"Did you visit Florence? Berlin? St. Petersburg?"--and then +the comparing of impressions. Only here again that old familiar magic +of unfamiliar names threw its glamour over the terse sentences. + +"Over beyond the Piute Monument," the old prospector explained, "down +through the Inyo Range, a leetle north of Death Valley--" + +"Back in seventy-eight when I was up in Bay Horse Caņon over by Lost +River--" + +"Was you ever over in th' Panamit Mountains?--North of th' Telescope +Range?--" + +That was all there was to it, with long pauses for drawing at the +pipes. Yet somehow in the aggregate that catalogue of names gradually +established in the minds of us two who listened an impression of long +years, of wide wilderness, of wandering far over the face of the earth. +The old man had wintered here, summered a thousand miles away, made his +strike at one end of the world, lost it somehow, and cheerfully tried +for a repetition of his luck at the other. I do not believe the +possibility of wealth, though always of course in the background, was +ever near enough his hope to be considered a motive for action. Rather +was it a dream, remote, something to be gained to-morrow, but never +to-day, like the mediaeval Christian's idea of heaven. His interest +was in the search. For that one could see in him a real enthusiasm. +He had his smattering of theory, his very real empirical knowledge, and +his superstitions, like all prospectors. So long as he could keep in +grub, own a little train of burros, and lead the life he loved, he was +happy. + +Perhaps one of the chief elements of this remarkable interest in the +game rather than the prizes of it was his desire to vindicate his +guesses or his conclusions. He liked to predict to himself the outcome +of his solitary operations, and then to prove that prediction through +laborious days. His life was a gigantic game of solitaire. In fact, +he mentioned a dozen of his claims many years apart which he had +developed to a certain point,--"so I could see what they was,"--and +then abandoned in favor of fresher discoveries. He cherished the +illusion that these were properties to whose completion some day he +would return. But we knew better; he had carried them to the point +where the result was no longer in doubt and then, like one who has no +interest in playing on in an evidently prescribed order, had laid his +cards on the table to begin a new game. + +This man was skilled in his profession; he had pursued it for thirty +odd years; he was frugal and industrious; undoubtedly of his long +series of discoveries a fair percentage were valuable and are +producing-properties to-day. Yet he confessed his bank balance to be +less than five hundred dollars. Why was this? Simply and solely +because he did not care. At heart it was entirely immaterial to him +whether he ever owned a dollar above his expenses. When he sold his +claims, he let them go easily, loath to bother himself with business +details, eager to get away from the fuss and nuisance. The few hundred +dollars he received he probably sunk in unproductive mining work, or +was fleeced out of in the towns. Then joyfully he turned back to his +beloved mountains and the life of his slow deep delight and his pecking +away before the open doors of fortune. By and by he would build +himself a little cabin down in the lower pine mountains, where he would +grow a white beard, putter with occult wilderness crafts, and smoke +long contemplative hours in the sun before his door. For tourists he +would braid rawhide reins and quirts, or make buckskin. The jays and +woodpeckers and Douglas squirrels would become fond of him. So he +would be gathered to his fathers, a gentle old man whose life had been +spent harmlessly in the open. He had had his ideal to which blindly he +reached; he had in his indirect way contributed the fruits of his labor +to mankind; his recompenses he had chosen according to his desires. +When you consider these things, you perforce have to revise your first +notion of him as a useless sort of old ruffian. As you come to know +him better, you must love him for the kindliness, the simple honesty, +the modesty, and charity that he seems to draw from his mountain +environment. There are hundreds of him buried in the great caņons of +the West. + +Our prospector was a little uncertain as to his plans. Along toward +autumn he intended to land at some reputed placers near Dinkey Creek. +There might be something in that district. He thought he would take a +look. In the mean time he was just poking up through the country--he +and his jackasses. Good way to spend the summer. Perhaps he might run +across something 'most anywhere; up near the top of that mountain +opposite looked mineralized. Didn't know but what he'd take a look at +her to-morrow. + +He camped near us during three days. I never saw a more modest, +self-effacing man. He seemed genuinely, childishly, almost helplessly +interested in our fly-fishing, shooting, our bear-skins, and our +travels. You would have thought from his demeanor--which was sincere +and not in the least ironical--that he had never seen or heard anything +quite like that before, and was struck with wonder at it. Yet he had +cast flies before we were born, and shot even earlier than he had cast +a fly, and was a very Ishmael for travel. Rarely could you get an +account of his own experiences, and then only in illustration of +something else. + +"If you-all likes bear-hunting," said he, "you ought to get up in +eastern Oregon. I summered there once. The only trouble is, the brush +is thick as hair. You 'most always have to bait them, or wait for them +to come and drink. The brush is so small you ain't got much chance. I +run onto a she-bear and cubs that way once. Didn't have nothin' but my +six-shooter, and I met her within six foot." + +He stopped with an air of finality. + +"Well, what did you do?" we asked. + +"Me?" he inquired, surprised. "Oh, I just leaked out of th' landscape." + +He prospected the mountain opposite, loafed with us a little, and then +decided that he must be going. About eight o'clock in the morning he +passed us, hazing his burros, his tall, lean figure elastic in defiance +of years. + +"So long, boys," he called; "good luck!" + +"So long," we responded heartily. "Be good to yourself." + +He plunged into the river without hesitation, emerged dripping on the +other side, and disappeared in the brush. From time to time during the +rest of the morning we heard the intermittent tinkling of his +bell-animal rising higher and higher above us on the trail. + +In the person of this man we gained our first connection, so to speak, +with the Golden Trout. He had caught some of them, and could tell us +of their habits. + +Few fishermen west of the Rockies have not heard of the Golden Trout, +though, equally, few have much definite information concerning it. +Such information usually runs about as follows: + +It is a medium size fish of the true trout family, resembling a rainbow +except that it is of a rich golden color. The peculiarity that makes +its capture a dream to be dreamed of is that it swims in but one little +stream of all the round globe. If you would catch a Golden Trout, you +must climb up under the very base of the end of the High Sierras. +There is born a stream that flows down from an elevation of about ten +thousand feet to about eight thousand before it takes a long plunge +into a branch of the Kern River. Over the twenty miles of its course +you can cast your fly for Golden Trout; but what is the nature of that +stream, that fish, or the method of its capture, few can tell you with +any pretense of accuracy. + +To be sure, there are legends. One, particularly striking, claims that +the Golden Trout occurs in one other stream--situated in Central +Asia!--and that the fish is therefore a remnant of some pre-glacial +period, like Sequoia trees, a sort of grand-daddy of all trout, as it +were. This is but a sample of what you will hear discussed. + +Of course from the very start we had had our eye on the Golden Trout, +and intended sooner or later to work our way to his habitat. Our +prospector had just come from there. + +"It's about four weeks south, the way you and me travels," said he. +"You don't want to try Harrison's Pass; it's chock full of tribulation. +Go around by way of the Giant Forest. She's pretty good there, too, +some sizable timber. Then over by Redwood Meadows, and Timber Gap, by +Mineral King, and over through Farewell Gap. You turn east there, on a +new trail. She's steeper than straight-up-an'-down, but shorter than +the other. When you get down in the caņon of Kern River,--say, she's a +fine caņon, too,--you want to go downstream about two mile to where +there's a sort of natural overflowed lake full of stubs stickin' up. +You'll get some awful big rainbows in there. Then your best way is to +go right up Whitney Creek Trail to a big high meadows mighty nigh to +timber-line. That's where I camped. They's lots of them little yaller +fish there. Oh, they bite well enough. You'll catch 'em. They's a +little shy." + +So in that guise--as the desire for new and distant things--did our +angel with the flaming sword finally come to us. + +We caught reluctant horses reluctantly. All the first day was to be a +climb. We knew it; and I suspect that they knew it too. Then we +packed and addressed ourselves to the task offered us by the Basin +Trail. + + + +XIV + +ON CAMP COOKERY + +One morning I awoke a little before the others, and lay on my back +staring up through the trees. It was not my day to cook. We were +camped at the time only about sixty-five hundred feet high, and the +weather was warm. Every sort of green thing grew very lush all about +us, but our own little space was held dry and clear for us by the +needles of two enormous red cedars some four feet in diameter. A +variety of thoughts sifted through my mind as it followed lazily the +shimmering filaments of loose spider-web streaming through space. The +last thought stuck. It was that that day was a holiday. Therefore I +unlimbered my six-shooter, and turned her loose, each shot being +accompanied by a meritorious yell. + +The outfit boiled out of its blankets. I explained the situation, and +after they had had some breakfast they agreed with me that a +celebration was in order. Unanimously we decided to make it gastronomic. + +"We will ride till we get to good feed," we concluded, "and then we'll +cook all the afternoon. And nobody must eat anything until the whole +business is prepared and served." + +It was agreed. We rode until we were very hungry, which was eleven +o'clock. Then we rode some more. By and by we came to a log cabin in +a wide fair lawn below a high mountain with a ducal coronet on its top, +and around that cabin was a fence, and inside the fence a man chopping +wood. Him we hailed. He came to the fence and grinned at us from the +elevation of high-heeled boots. By this token we knew him for a +cow-puncher. + +"How are you?" said we. + +"Howdy, boys," he roared. Roared is the accurate expression. He was +not a large man, and his hair was sandy, and his eye mild blue. But +undoubtedly his kinsmen were dumb and he had as birthright the voice +for the entire family. It had been subsequently developed in the +shouting after the wild cattle of the hills. Now his ordinary +conversational tone was that of the announcer at a circus. But his +heart was good. + +"Can we camp here?" we inquired. + +"Sure thing," he bellowed. "Turn your horses into the meadow. Camp +right here." + +But with the vision of a rounded wooded knoll a few hundred yards +distant we said we'd just get out of his way a little. We crossed a +creek, mounted an easy slope to the top of the knoll, and were +delighted to observe just below its summit the peculiar fresh green +hump which indicates a spring. The Tenderfoot, however, knew nothing +of springs, for shortly he trudged a weary way back to the creek, and +so returned bearing kettles of water. This performance hugely +astonished the cowboy, who subsequently wanted to know if a "critter +had died in the spring." + +Wes departed to borrow a big Dutch oven of the man and to invite him to +come across when we raised the long yell. Then we began operations. + +Now camp cooks are of two sorts. Anybody can with a little practice +fry bacon, steak, or flapjacks, and boil coffee. The reduction of the +raw material to its most obvious cooked result is within the reach of +all but the most hopeless tenderfoot who never knows the salt-sack from +the sugar-sack. But your true artist at the business is he who can +from six ingredients, by permutation, combination, and the genius that +is in him turn out a full score of dishes. For simple example: GIVEN, +rice, oatmeal, and raisins. Your expert accomplishes the following: + +ITEM--Boiled rice. + +ITEM--Boiled oatmeal. + +ITEM--Rice boiled until soft, then stiffened by the addition of quarter +as much oatmeal. + +ITEM--Oatmeal in which is boiled almost to the dissolving point a third +as much rice. + +These latter two dishes taste entirely unlike each other or their +separate ingredients. They are moreover great in nutrition. + +ITEM--Boiled rice and raisins. + +ITEM--Dish number three with raisins. + +ITEM--Rice boiled with raisins, sugar sprinkled on top, and then baked. + +ITEM--Ditto with dish number three. + +All these are good--and different. + +Some people like to cook and have a natural knack for it. Others hate +it. If you are one of the former, select a propitious moment to +suggest that you will cook, if the rest will wash the dishes and supply +the wood and water. Thus you will get first crack at the fire in the +chill of morning; and at night you can squat on your heels doing light +labor while the others rustle. + +In a mountain trip small stout bags for the provisions are necessary. +They should be big enough to contain, say, five pounds of corn-meal, +and should tie firmly at the top. It will be absolutely labor lost for +you to mark them on the outside, as the outside soon will become +uniform in color with your marking. Tags might do, if occasionally +renewed. But if you have the instinct, you will soon come to recognize +the appearance of the different bags as you recognize the features of +your family. They should contain small quantities for immediate use of +the provisions the main stock of which is carried on another +pack-animal. One tin plate apiece and "one to grow on"; the same of tin +cups; half a dozen spoons; four knives and forks; a big spoon; two +frying-pans; a broiler; a coffee-pot; a Dutch oven; and three light +sheet-iron pails to nest in one another was what we carried on this +trip. You see, we had horses. Of course in the woods that outfit +would be materially reduced. + +For the same reason, since we had our carrying done for us, we took +along two flat iron bars about twenty-four inches in length. These, +laid across two stones between which the fire had been built, we used +to support our cooking-utensils stove-wise. I should never carry a +stove. This arrangement is quite as effective, and possesses the added +advantage that wood does not have to be cut for it of any definite +length. Again, in the woods these iron bars would be a senseless +burden. But early you will learn that while it is foolish to carry a +single ounce more than will pay in comfort or convenience for its own +transportation, it is equally foolish to refuse the comforts or +conveniences that modified circumstance will permit you. To carry only +a forest equipment with pack-animals would be as silly as to carry only +a pack-animal outfit on a Pullman car. Only look out that you do not +reverse it. + +Even if you do not intend to wash dishes, bring along some "Gold Dust." +It is much simpler in getting at odd corners of obstinate kettles than +any soap. All you have to do is to boil some of it in that kettle, and +the utensil is tamed at once. + +That's about all you, as expert cook, are going to need in the way of +equipment. Now as to your fire. + +There are a number of ways of building a cooking fire, but they share +one first requisite: it should be small. A blaze will burn everything, +including your hands and your temper. Two logs laid side by side and +slanted towards each other so that small things can go on the narrow +end and big things on the wide end; flat rocks arranged in the same +manner; a narrow trench in which the fire is built; and the flat irons +just described--these are the best-known methods. Use dry wood. +Arrange to do your boiling first--in the flame; and your frying and +broiling last--after the flames have died to coals. + +So much in general. You must remember that open-air cooking is in many +things quite different from indoor cooking. You have different +utensils, are exposed to varying temperatures, are limited in +resources, and pursued by a necessity of haste. Preconceived notions +must go by the board. You are after results; and if you get them, do +not mind the feminines of your household lifting the hands of horror +over the unorthodox means. Mighty few women I have ever seen were good +camp-fire cooks; not because camp-fire cookery is especially difficult, +but because they are temperamentally incapable of ridding themselves of +the notion that certain things should be done in a certain way, and +because if an ingredient lacks, they cannot bring themselves to +substitute an approximation. They would rather abandon the dish than +do violence to the sacred art. + +Most camp-cookery advice is quite useless for the same reason. I have +seen many a recipe begin with the words: "Take the yolks of four eggs, +half a cup of butter, and a cup of fresh milk--" As if any one really +camping in the wilderness ever had eggs, butter, and milk! + +Now here is something I cooked for this particular celebration. Every +woman to whom I have ever described it has informed me vehemently that +it is not cake, and must be "horrid." Perhaps it is not cake, but it +looks yellow and light, and tastes like cake. + +First I took two cups of flour, and a half cup of corn-meal to make it +look yellow. In this I mixed a lot of baking-powder,--about twice what +one should use for bread,--and topped off with a cup of sugar. The +whole I mixed with water into a light dough. Into the dough went +raisins that had previously been boiled to swell them up. Thus was the +cake mixed. Now I poured half the dough into the Dutch oven, sprinkled +it with a good layer of sugar, cinnamon, and unboiled raisins; poured +in the rest of the dough; repeated the layer of sugar, cinnamon, and +raisins; and baked in the Dutch oven. It was gorgeous, and we ate it +at one fell swoop. + +While we are about it, we may as well work backwards on this particular +orgy by describing the rest of our dessert. In addition to the cake +and some stewed apricots, I, as cook of the day, constructed also a +pudding. + +The basis was flour--two cups of it. Into this I dumped a handful of +raisins, a tablespoonful of baking-powder, two of sugar, and about a +pound of fat salt pork cut into little cubes. This I mixed up into a +mess by means of a cup or so of water and a quantity of +larrupy-dope.[1] Then I dipped a flour-sack in hot water, wrung it +out, sprinkled it with dry flour, and half filled it with my pudding +mixture. The whole outfit I boiled for two hours in a kettle. It, +too, was good to the palate, and was even better sliced and fried the +following morning. + +This brings us to the suspension of kettles. There are two ways. If +you are in a hurry, cut a springy pole, sharpen one end, and stick it +perpendicular in the ground. Bend it down towards your fire. Hang +your kettle on the end of it. If you have jabbed it far enough into +the ground in the first place, it will balance nicely by its own spring +and the elasticity of the turf. The other method is to plant two +forked sticks on either side your fire over which a strong cross-piece +is laid. The kettles are hung on hooks cut from forked branches. The +forked branches are attached to the cross-piece by means of thongs or +withes. + +On this occasion we had deer, grouse, and ducks in the larder. The +best way to treat them is as follows. You may be sure we adopted the +best way. + +When your deer is fresh, you will enjoy greatly a dish of liver and +bacon. Only the liver you will discover to be a great deal tenderer +and more delicate than any calf's liver you ever ate. There is this +difference: a deer's liver should be parboiled in order to get rid of a +green bitter scum that will rise to the surface and which you must skim +off. + +Next in order is the "back strap" and tenderloin, which is always +tender, even when fresh. The hams should be kept at least five days. +Deer-steak, to my notion, is best broiled, though occasionally it is +pleasant by way of variety to fry it. In that case a brown gravy is +made by thoroughly heating flour in the grease, and then stirring in +water. Deer-steak threaded on switches and "barbecued" over the coals +is delicious. The outside will be a little blackened, but all the +juices will be retained. To enjoy this to the utmost you should take +it in your fingers and GNAW. The only permissible implement is your +hunting-knife. Do not forget to peel and char slightly the switches on +which you thread the meat, otherwise they will impart their fresh-wood +taste. + +By this time the ribs are in condition. Cut little slits between them, +and through the slits thread in and out long strips of bacon. Cut +other little gashes, and fill these gashes with onions chopped very +fine. Suspend the ribs across two stones between which you have allowed +a fire to die down to coals. + +There remain now the hams, shoulders, and heart. The two former furnish +steaks. The latter you will make into a "bouillon." Here inserts +itself quite naturally the philosophy of boiling meat. It may be +stated in a paragraph. + +If you want boiled meat, put it in hot water. That sets the juices. +If you want soup, put it in cold water and bring to a boil. That sets +free the juices. Remember this. + +Now you start your bouillon cold. Into a kettle of water put your deer +hearts, or your fish, a chunk of pork, and some salt. Bring to a boil. +Next drop in quartered potatoes, several small whole onions, a half +cupful of rice, a can of tomatoes--if you have any. Boil slowly for an +hour or so--until things pierce easily under the fork. Add several +chunks of bread and a little flour for thickening. Boil down to about +a chowder consistency, and serve hot. It is all you will need for that +meal; and you will eat of it until there is no more. + +I am supposing throughout that you know enough to use salt and pepper +when needed. + +So much for your deer. The grouse you can split and fry, in which case +the brown gravy described for the fried deer-steak is just the thing. +Or you can boil him. If you do that, put him into hot water, boil +slowly, skim frequently, and add dumplings mixed of flour, +baking-powder, and a little lard. Or you can roast him in your Dutch +oven with your ducks. + +Perhaps it might be well here to explain the Dutch oven. It is a heavy +iron kettle with little legs and an iron cover. The theory of it is +that coals go among the little legs and on top of the iron cover. This +heats the inside, and so cooking results. That, you will observe, is +the theory. + +In practice you will have to remember a good many things. In the first +place, while other affairs are preparing, lay the cover on the fire to +heat it through; but not on too hot a place nor too long, lest it warp +and so fit loosely. Also the oven itself is to be heated through, and +well greased. Your first baking will undoubtedly be burned on the +bottom. It is almost impossible without many trials to understand just +how little heat suffices underneath. Sometimes it seems that the +warmed earth where the fire has been is enough. And on top you do not +want a bonfire. A nice even heat, and patience, are the proper +ingredients. Nor drop into the error of letting your bread chill, and +so fall to unpalatable heaviness. Probably for some time you will +alternate between the extremes of heavy crusts with doughy insides, and +white weighty boiler-plate with no distinguishable crusts at all. +Above all, do not lift the lid too often for the sake of taking a look. +Have faith. + +There are other ways of baking bread. In the North Country forests, +where you carry everything on your back, you will do it in the +frying-pan. The mixture should be a rather thick batter or a rather +thin dough. It is turned into the frying-pan and baked first on one +side, then on the other, the pan being propped on edge facing the fire. +The whole secret of success is first to set your pan horizontal and +about three feet from the fire in order that the mixture may be +thoroughly warmed--not heated--before the pan is propped on edge. +Still another way of baking is in a reflector oven of tin. This is +highly satisfactory, provided the oven is built on the scientific +angles to throw the heat evenly on all parts of the bread-pan and +equally on top and bottom. It is not so easy as you might imagine to +get a good one made. These reflectors are all right for a permanent +camp, but too fragile for transportation on pack-animals. + +As for bread, try it unleavened once in a while by way of change. It +is really very good,--just salt, water, flour, and a very little sugar. +For those who like their bread "all crust," it is especially toothsome. +The usual camp bread that I have found the most successful has been in +the proportion of two cups of flour to a teaspoonful of salt, one of +sugar, and three of baking-powder. Sugar or cinnamon sprinkled on top +is sometimes pleasant. Test by thrusting a splinter into the loaf. If +dough adheres to the wood, the bread is not done. Biscuits are made by +using twice as much baking-powder and about two tablespoonfuls of lard +for shortening. They bake much more quickly than the bread. +Johnny-cake you mix of corn-meal three cups, flour one cup, sugar four +spoonfuls, salt one spoonful, baking-powder four spoonfuls, and lard +twice as much as for biscuits. It also is good, very good. + +The flapjack is first cousin to bread, very palatable, and extremely +indigestible when made of flour, as is ordinarily done. However, the +self-raising buckwheat flour makes an excellent flapjack, which is +likewise good for your insides. The batter is rather thin, is poured +into the piping hot greased pan, "flipped" when brown on one side, and +eaten with larrupy-dope or brown gravy. + +When you come to consider potatoes and beans and onions and such +matters, remember one thing: that in the higher altitudes water boils +at a low temperature, and that therefore you must not expect your +boiled food to cook very rapidly. In fact, you'd better leave beans at +home. We did. Potatoes you can sometimes tease along by quartering +them. + +Rolled oats are better than oatmeal. Put them in plenty of water and +boil down to the desired consistency. In lack of cream you will +probably want it rather soft. + +Put your coffee into cold water, bring to a boil, let boil for about +two minutes, and immediately set off. Settle by letting a half cup of +cold water flow slowly into the pot from the height of a foot or so. +If your utensils are clean, you will surely have good coffee by this +simple method. Of course you will never boil your tea. + +The sun was nearly down when we raised our long yell. The cow-puncher +promptly responded. We ate. Then we smoked. Then we basely left all +our dishes until the morrow, and followed our cow-puncher to his log +cabin, where we were to spend the evening. + +By now it was dark, and a bitter cold swooped down from the mountains. +We built a fire in a huge stone fireplace and sat around in the +flickering light telling ghost-stories to one another. The place was +rudely furnished, with only a hard earthen floor, and chairs hewn by +the axe. Rifles, spurs, bits, revolvers, branding-irons in turn caught +the light and vanished in the shadow. The skin of a bear looked at us +from hollow eye-sockets in which there were no eyes. We talked of the +Long Trail. Outside the wind, rising, howled through the shakes of the +roof. + + +[1] Camp-lingo for any kind of syrup. + + + +XV + +ON THE WIND AT NIGHT + +The winds were indeed abroad that night. They rattled our cabin, they +shrieked in our eaves, they puffed down our chimney, scattering the +ashes and leaving in the room a balloon of smoke as though a shell had +burst. When we opened the door and stepped out, after our good-nights +had been said, it caught at our hats and garments as though it had been +lying in wait for us. + +To our eyes, fire-dazzled, the night seemed very dark. There would be +a moon later, but at present even the stars seemed only so many +pinpoints of dull metal, lustreless, without illumination. We felt our +way to camp, conscious of the softness of grasses, the uncertainty of +stones. + +At camp the remains of the fire crouched beneath the rating of the +storm. Its embers glowed sullen and red, alternately glaring with a +half-formed resolution to rebel, and dying to a sulky resignation. +Once a feeble flame sprang up for an instant, but was immediately +pounced on and beaten flat as though by a vigilant antagonist. + +We, stumbling, gathered again our tumbled blankets. Across the brow of +the knoll lay a huge pine trunk. In its shelter we respread our +bedding, and there, standing, dressed for the night. The power of the +wind tugged at our loose garments, hoping for spoil. A towel, shaken +by accident from the interior of a sweater, departed white-winged, like +a bird, into the outer blackness. We found it next day caught in the +bushes several hundred yards distant. Our voices as we shouted were +snatched from our lips and hurled lavishly into space. The very breath +of our bodies seemed driven back, so that as we faced the elements, we +breathed in gasps, with difficulty. + +Then we dropped down into our blankets. + +At once the prostrate tree-trunk gave us its protection. We lay in a +little back-wash of the racing winds, still as a night in June. Over +us roared the battle. We felt like sharpshooters in the trenches; as +though, were we to raise our heads, at that instant we should enter a +zone of danger. So we lay quietly on our backs and stared at the +heavens. + +The first impression thence given was of stars sailing serene and +unaffected, remote from the turbulence of what until this instant had +seemed to fill the universe. They were as always, just as we should +see them when the evening was warm and the tree-toads chirped clearly +audible at half a mile. The importance of the tempest shrank. Then +below them next we noticed the mountains; they too were serene and calm. + +Immediately it was as though the storm were an hallucination; something +not objective; something real, but within the soul of him who looked +upon it. It claimed sudden kinship with those blackest days when +nevertheless the sun, the mere external unimportant sun, shines with +superlative brilliancy. Emotions of a power to shake the foundations +of life seemed vaguely to stir in answer to these their hollow symbols. +For after all, we were contented at heart and tranquil in mind, and +this was but the outer gorgeous show of an intense emotional experience +we did not at the moment prove. Our nerves responded to it +automatically. We became excited, keyed to a high tension, and so lay +rigid on our backs, as though fighting out the battles of our souls. + +It was all so unreal and yet so plain to our senses that perforce +automatically our experience had to conclude it psychical. We were in +air absolutely still. Yet above us the trees writhed and twisted and +turned and bent and struck back, evidently in the power of a mighty +force. Across the calm heavens the murk of flying atmosphere--I have +always maintained that if you looked closely enough you could SEE the +wind--the dim, hardly-made-out, fine debris fleeing high in the +air;--these faintly hinted at intense movement rushing down through +space. A roar of sound filled the hollow of the sky. Occasionally it +intermitted, falling abruptly in volume like the mysterious rare +hushings of a rapid stream. Then the familiar noises of a summer night +became audible for the briefest instant,--a horse sneezed, an owl +hooted, the wild call of birds came down the wind. And with a howl the +legions of good and evil took up their warring. It was too real, and +yet it was not reconcilable with the calm of our resting-places. + +For hours we lay thus in all the intensity of an inner storm and +stress, which it seemed could not fail to develop us, to mould us, to +age us, to leave on us its scars, to bequeath us its peace or remorse +or despair, as would some great mysterious dark experience direct from +the sources of life. And then abruptly we were exhausted, as we should +have been by too great emotion. We fell asleep. The morning dawned +still and clear, and garnished and set in order as though such things +had never been. Only our white towel fluttered like a flag of truce in +the direction the mighty elements had departed. + + + +XVI + +THE VALLEY + +Once upon a time I happened to be staying in a hotel room which had +originally been part of a suite, but which was then cut off from the +others by only a thin door through which sounds carried clearly. It +was about eleven o'clock in the evening. The occupants of that next +room came home. I heard the door open and close. Then the bed +shrieked aloud as somebody fell heavily upon it. There breathed across +the silence a deep restful sigh. + +"Mary," said a man's voice, "I'm mighty sorry I didn't join that +Association for Artificial Vacations. They guarantee to get you just as +tired and just as mad in two days as you could by yourself in two +weeks." + +We thought of that one morning as we descended the Glacier Point Trail +in Yosemite. + +The contrast we need not have made so sharp. We might have taken the +regular wagon-road by way of Chinquapin, but we preferred to stick to +the trail, and so encountered our first sign of civilization within an +hundred yards of the brink. It, the sign, was tourists. They were +male and female, as the Lord had made them, but they had improved on +that idea since. The women were freckled, hatted with alpines, in +which edelweiss--artificial, I think--flowered in abundance; they +sported severely plain flannel shirts, bloomers of an aggressive and +unnecessary cut, and enormous square boots weighing pounds. The men +had on hats just off the sunbonnet effect, pleated Norfolk jackets, +bloomers ditto ditto to the women, stockings whose tops rolled over +innumerable times to help out the size of that which they should have +contained, and also enormous square boots. The female children they +put in skin-tight blue overalls. The male children they dressed in +bloomers. Why this should be I cannot tell you. All carried toy +hatchets with a spike on one end built to resemble the pictures of +alpenstocks. + +They looked business-like, trod with an assured air of veterans and a +seeming of experience more extended than it was possible to pack into +any one human life. We stared at them, our eyes bulging out. They +painfully and evidently concealed a curiosity as to our pack-train. We +wished them good-day, in order to see to what language heaven had +fitted their extraordinary ideas as regards raiment. They inquired the +way to something or other--I think Sentinel Dome. We had just arrived, +so we did not know, but in order to show a friendly spirit we blandly +pointed out A way. It may have led to Sentinel Dome for all I know. +They departed uttering thanks in human speech. + +Now this particular bunch of tourists was evidently staying at the +Glacier Point, and so was fresh. But in the course of that morning we +descended straight down a drop of, is it four thousand feet? The trail +was steep and long and without water. During the descent we passed +first and last probably twoscore of tourists, all on foot. A good half +of them were delicate women,--young, middle-aged, a few gray-haired and +evidently upwards of sixty. There were also old men, and fat men, and +men otherwise out of condition. Probably nine out of ten, counting in +the entire outfit, were utterly unaccustomed, when at home where grow +street-cars and hansoms, to even the mildest sort of exercise. They +had come into the Valley, whose floor is over four thousand feet up, +without the slightest physical preparation for the altitude. They had +submitted to the fatigue of a long and dusty stage journey. And then +they had merrily whooped it up at a gait which would have appalled +seasoned old stagers like ourselves. Those blessed lunatics seemed +positively unhappy unless they climbed up to some new point of view +every day. I have never seen such a universally tired out, frazzled, +vitally exhausted, white-faced, nervous community in my life as I did +during our four days' stay in the Valley. Then probably they go away, +and take a month to get over it, and have queer residual impressions of +the trip. I should like to know what those impressions really are. + +Not but that Nature has done everything in her power to oblige them. +The things I am about to say are heresy, but I hold them true. + +Yosemite is not as interesting nor as satisfying to me as some of the +other big box caņons, like those of the Tehipite, the Kings in its +branches, or the Kaweah. I will admit that its waterfalls are better. +Otherwise it possesses no features which are not to be seen in its +sister valleys. And there is this difference. In Yosemite everything +is jumbled together, apparently for the benefit of the tourist with a +linen duster and but three days' time at his disposal. He can turn +from the cliff-headland to the dome, from the dome to the half dome, to +the glacier formation, the granite slide and all the rest of it, with +hardly the necessity of stirring his feet. Nature has put samples of +all her works here within reach of his cataloguing vision. Everything +is crowded in together, like a row of houses in forty-foot lots. The +mere things themselves are here in profusion and wonder, but the +appropriate spacing, the approach, the surrounding of subordinate +detail which should lead in artistic gradation to the supreme +feature--these things, which are a real and essential part of esthetic +effect, are lacking utterly for want of room. The place is not natural +scenery; it is a junk-shop, a storehouse, a sample-room wherein the +elements of natural scenery are to be viewed. It is not an arrangement +of effects in accordance with the usual laws of landscape, but an +abnormality, a freak of Nature. + +All these things are to be found elsewhere. There are cliffs which to +the naked eye are as grand as El Capitan; domes, half domes, peaks as +noble as any to be seen in the Valley; sheer drops as breath-taking as +that from Glacier Point. But in other places each of these is led up +to appropriately, and stands the central and satisfying feature to +which all other things look. Then you journey on from your cliff, or +whatever it happens to be, until, at just the right distance, so that +it gains from the presence of its neighbor without losing from its +proximity, a dome or a pinnacle takes to itself the right of +prominence. I concede the waterfalls; but in other respects I prefer +the sister valleys. + +That is not to say that one should not visit Yosemite; nor that one +will be disappointed. It is grand beyond any possible human belief; +and no one, even a nerve-frazzled tourist, can gaze on it without the +strongest emotion. Only it is not so intimately satisfying as it +should be. It is a show. You do not take it into your heart. "Whew!" +you cry. "Isn't that a wonder!" then after a moment, "Looks just like +the photographs. Up to sample. Now let's go." + +As we descended the trail, we and the tourists aroused in each other a +mutual interest. One husband was trying to encourage his young and +handsome wife to go on. She was beautifully dressed for the part in a +marvelous, becoming costume of whipcord--short skirt, high laced +elkskin boots and the rest of it; but in all her magnificence she had +sat down on the ground, her back to the cliff, her legs across the +trail, and was so tired out that she could hardly muster interest +enough to pull them in out of the way of our horses' hoofs. The man +inquired anxiously of us how far it was to the top. Now it was a long +distance to the top, but a longer to the bottom, so we lied a lie that +I am sure was immediately forgiven us, and told them it was only a +short climb. I should have offered them the use of Bullet, but Bullet +had come far enough, and this was only one of a dozen such cases. In +marked contrast was a jolly white-haired clergyman of the bishop type +who climbed vigorously and hailed us with a shout. + +The horses were decidedly unaccustomed to any such sights, and we +sometimes had our hands full getting them by on the narrow way. The +trail was safe enough, but it did have an edge, and that edge jumped +pretty straight off. It was interesting to observe how the tourists +acted. Some of them were perfect fools, and we had more trouble with +them than we did with the horses. They could not seem to get the +notion into their heads that all we wanted them to do was to get on the +inside and stand still. About half of them were terrified to death, so +that at the crucial moment, just as a horse was passing them, they had +little fluttering panics that called the beast's attention. Most of +the remainder tried to be bold and help. They reached out the hand of +assistance toward the halter rope; the astonished animal promptly +snorted, tried to turn around, cannoned against the next in line. Then +there was a mix-up. Two tall clean-cut well-bred looking girls of our +slim patrician type offered us material assistance. They seemed to +understand horses, and got out of the way in the proper manner, did +just the right thing, and made sensible suggestions. I offer them my +homage. + +They spoke to us as though they had penetrated the disguise of long +travel, and could see we were not necessarily members of Burt Alvord's +gang. This phase too of our descent became increasingly interesting to +us, a species of gauge by which we measured the perceptions of those we +encountered. Most did not speak to us at all. Others responded to our +greetings with a reserve in which was more than a tinge of distrust. +Still others patronized us. A very few overlooked our faded flannel +shirts, our soiled trousers, our floppy old hats with their rattlesnake +bands, the wear and tear of our equipment, to respond to us heartily. +Them in return we generally perceived to belong to our totem. + +We found the floor of the Valley well sprinkled with campers. They had +pitched all kinds of tents; built all kinds of fancy permanent +conveniences; erected all kinds of banners and signs advertising their +identity, and were generally having a nice, easy, healthful, jolly kind +of a time up there in the mountains. Their outfits they had either +brought in with their own wagons, or had had freighted. The store near +the bend of the Merced supplied all their needs. It was truly a +pleasant sight to see so many people enjoying themselves, for they were +mostly those in moderate circumstances to whom a trip on tourist lines +would be impossible. We saw bakers' and grocers' and butchers' wagons +that had been pressed into service. A man, his wife, and little baby +had come in an ordinary buggy, the one horse of which, led by the man, +carried the woman and baby to the various points of interest. + +We reported to the official in charge, were allotted a camping and +grazing place, and proceeded to make ourselves at home. + +During the next two days we rode comfortably here and there and looked +at things. The things could not be spoiled, but their effect was very +materially marred by the swarms of tourists. Sometimes they were +silly, and cracked inane and obvious jokes in ridicule of the grandest +objects they had come so far to see; sometimes they were detestable and +left their insignificant calling-cards or their unimportant names where +nobody could ever have any object in reading them; sometimes they were +pathetic and helpless and had to have assistance; sometimes they were +amusing; hardly ever did they seem entirely human. I wonder what there +is about the traveling public that seems so to set it apart, to make of +it at least a sub-species of mankind? + +Among other things, we were vastly interested in the guides. They were +typical of this sort of thing. Each morning one of these men took a +pleasantly awe-stricken band of tourists out, led them around in the +brush awhile, and brought them back in time for lunch. They wore broad +hats and leather bands and exotic raiment and fierce expressions, and +looked dark and mysterious and extra-competent over the most trivial of +difficulties. + +Nothing could be more instructive than to see two or three of these +imitation bad men starting out in the morning to "guide" a flock, say +to Nevada Falls. The tourists, being about to mount, have outdone +themselves in weird and awesome clothes--especially the women. Nine +out of ten wear their stirrups too short, so their knees are hunched +up. One guide rides at the head--great deal of silver spur, clanking +chain, and the rest of it. Another rides in the rear. The third rides +up and down the line, very gruff, very preoccupied, very careworn over +the dangers of the way. The cavalcade moves. It proceeds for about a +mile. There arise sudden cries, great but subdued excitement. The +leader stops, raising a commanding hand. Guide number three gallops +up. There is a consultation. The cinch-strap of the brindle shave-tail +is taken up two inches. A catastrophe has been averted. The noble +three look volumes of relief. The cavalcade moves again. + +Now the trail rises. It is a nice, safe, easy trail. But to the +tourists it is made terrible. The noble three see to that. They pass +more dangers by the exercise of superhuman skill than you or I could +discover in a summer's close search. The joke of the matter is that +those forty-odd saddle-animals have been over that trail so many times +that one would have difficulty in heading them off from it once they +got started. + +Very much the same criticism would hold as to the popular notion of the +Yosemite stage-drivers. They drive well, and seem efficient men. But +their wonderful reputation would have to be upheld on rougher roads +than those into the Valley. The tourist is, of course, encouraged to +believe that he is doing the hair-breadth escape; but in reality, as +mountain travel goes, the Yosemite stage-road is very mild. + +This that I have been saying is not by way of depreciation. But it +seems to me that the Valley is wonderful enough to stand by itself in +men's appreciation without the unreality of sickly sentimentalism in +regard to imaginary dangers, or the histrionics of playing wilderness +where no wilderness exists. + +As we went out, this time by the Chinquapin wagon-road, we met one +stage-load after another of tourists coming in. They had not yet +donned the outlandish attire they believe proper to the occasion, and +so showed for what they were,--prosperous, well-bred, well-dressed +travelers. In contrast to their smartness, the brilliancy of +new-painted stages, the dash of the horses maintained by the Yosemite +Stage Company, our own dusty travel-worn outfit of mountain ponies, our +own rough clothes patched and faded, our sheath-knives and firearms +seemed out of place and curious, as though a knight in medieval armor +were to ride down Broadway. + +I do not know how many stages there were. We turned our pack-horses +out for them all, dashing back and forth along the line, coercing the +diabolical Dinkey. The road was too smooth. There were no +obstructions to surmount; no dangers to avert; no difficulties to +avoid. We could not get into trouble, but proceeded as on a county +turnpike. Too tame, too civilized, too representative of the tourist +element, it ended by getting on our nerves. The wilderness seemed to +have left us forever. Never would we get back to our own again. After +a long time Wes, leading, turned into our old trail branching off to +the high country. Hardly had we traveled a half mile before we heard +from the advance guard a crash and a shout. + +"What is it, Wes?" we yelled. + +In a moment the reply came,-- + +"Lily's fallen down again,--thank God!" + +We understood what he meant. By this we knew that the tourist zone was +crossed, that we had left the show country, and were once more in the +open. + + + +XVII + +THE MAIN CREST + +The traveler in the High Sierras generally keeps to the west of the +main crest. Sometimes he approaches fairly to the foot of the last +slope; sometimes he angles away and away even down to what finally +seems to him a lower country,--to the pine mountains of only five or +six thousand feet. But always to the left or right of him, according +to whether he travels south or north, runs the rampart of the system, +sometimes glittering with snow, sometimes formidable and rugged with +splinters and spires of granite. He crosses spurs and tributary ranges +as high, as rugged, as snow-clad as these. They do not quite satisfy +him. Over beyond he thinks he ought to see something great,--some wide +outlook, some space bluer than his trail can offer him. One day or +another he clamps his decision, and so turns aside for the simple and +only purpose of standing on the top of the world. + +We were bitten by that idea while crossing the Granite Basin. The +latter is some ten thousand feet in the air, a cup of rock five or six +miles across, surrounded by mountains much higher than itself. That +would have been sufficient for most moods, but, resting on the edge of +a pass ten thousand six hundred feet high, we concluded that we surely +would have to look over into Nevada. + +We got out the map. It became evident, after a little study, that by +descending six thousand feet into a box caņon, proceeding in it a few +miles, and promptly climbing out again, by climbing steadily up the +long narrow course of another box caņon for about a day and a half's +journey, and then climbing out of that to a high ridge country with +little flat valleys, we would come to a wide lake in a meadow eleven +thousand feet up. There we could camp. The mountain opposite was +thirteen thousand three hundred and twenty feet, so the climb from the +lake became merely a matter of computation. This, we figured, would +take us just a week, which may seem a considerable time to sacrifice to +the gratification of a whim. But such a glorious whim! + +We descended the great box caņon, and scaled its upper end, following +near the voices of a cascade. Cliffs thousands of feet high hemmed us +in. At the very top of them strange crags leaned out looking down on +us in the abyss. From a projection a colossal sphinx gazed solemnly +across at a dome as smooth and symmetrical as, but vastly larger than, +St. Peter's at Rome. + +The trail labored up to the brink of the cascade. At once we entered a +long narrow aisle between regular palisaded cliffs. + +The formation was exceedingly regular. At the top the precipice fell +sheer for a thousand feet or so; then the steep slant of the debris, +like buttresses, down almost to the bed of the river. The lower parts +of the buttresses were clothed with heavy chaparral, which, nearer +moisture, developed into cottonwoods, alders, tangled vines, flowers, +rank grasses. And away on the very edge of the cliffs, close under the +sky, were pines, belittled by distance, solemn and aloof, like Indian +warriors wrapped in their blankets watching from an eminence the +passage of a hostile force. + +We caught rainbow trout in the dashing white torrent of the river. We +followed the trail through delicious thickets redolent with perfume; +over the roughest granite slides, along still dark aisles of forest +groves, between the clefts of boulders so monstrous as almost to seem +an insult to the credulity. Among the chaparral, on the slope of the +buttress across the river, we made out a bear feeding. Wes and I sat +ten minutes waiting for him to show sufficiently for a chance. Then we +took a shot at about four hundred yards, and hit him somewhere so he +angled down the hill furiously. We left the Tenderfoot to watch that +he did not come out of the big thicket of the river bottom where last +we had seen him, while we scrambled upstream nearly a mile looking for +a way across. Then we trailed him by the blood, each step one of +suspense, until we fairly had to crawl in after him; and shot him five +times more, three in the head, before he gave up not six feet from us; +and shouted gloriously and skinned that bear. But the meat was badly +bloodshot, for there were three bullets in the head, two in the chest +and shoulders, one through the paunch, and one in the hind quarters. + +Since we were much in want of meat, this grieved us. But that noon +while we ate, the horses ran down toward us, and wheeled, as though in +cavalry formation, looking toward the hill and snorting. So I put down +my tin plate gently, and took up my rifle, and without rising shot that +bear through the back of the neck. We took his skin, and also his hind +quarters, and went on. + +By the third day from Granite Basin we reached the end of the long +narrow caņon with the high cliffs and the dark pine-trees and the very +blue sky. Therefore we turned sharp to the left and climbed laboriously +until we had come up into the land of big boulders, strange spare +twisted little trees, and the singing of the great wind. + +The country here was mainly of granite. It out-cropped in dikes, it +slid down the slopes in aprons, it strewed the prospect in boulders and +blocks, it seamed the hollows with knife-ridges. Soil gave the +impression of having been laid on top; you divined the granite beneath +it, and not so very far beneath it, either. A fine hair-grass grew +close to this soil, as though to produce as many blades as possible in +the limited area. + +But strangest of all were the little thick twisted trees with the rich +shaded umber color of their trunks. They occurred rarely, but still in +sufficient regularity to lend the impression of a scattered +grove-cohesiveness. Their limbs were sturdy and reaching fantastically. +On each trunk the colors ran in streaks, patches, and gradations from a +sulphur yellow, through browns and red-orange, to a rich red-umber. +They were like the earth-dwarfs of German legend, come out to view the +roof of their workshop in the interior of the hill; or, more subtly, +like some of the more fantastic engravings of Gustave Dore. + +We camped that night at a lake whose banks were pebbled in the manner +of an artificial pond, and whose setting was a thin meadow of the fine +hair-grass, for the grazing of which the horses had to bare their +teeth. All about, the granite mountains rose. The timber-line, even of +the rare shrub-like gnome-trees, ceased here. Above us was nothing +whatever but granite rock, snow, and the sky. + +It was just before dusk, and in the lake the fish were jumping eagerly. +They took the fly well, and before the fire was alight we had caught +three for supper. When I say we caught but three, you will understand +that they were of good size. Firewood was scarce, but we dragged in +enough by means of Old Slob and a riata to build us a good fire. And +we needed it, for the cold descended on us with the sharpness and vigor +of eleven thousand feet. + +For such an altitude the spot was ideal. The lake just below us was +full of fish. A little stream ran from it by our very elbows. The +slight elevation was level, and covered with enough soil to offer a +fairly good substructure for our beds. The flat in which was the lake +reached on up narrower and narrower to the foot of the last slope, +furnishing for the horses an admirable natural corral about a mile +long. And the view was magnificent. + +First of all there were the mountains above us, towering grandly serene +against the sky of morning; then all about us the tumultuous slabs and +boulders and blocks of granite among which dare-devil and hardy little +trees clung to a footing as though in defiance of some great force +exerted against them; then below us a sheer drop, into which our brook +plunged, with its suggestion of depths; and finally beyond those depths +the giant peaks of the highest Sierras rising lofty as the sky, +shrouded in a calm and stately peace. + +Next day the Tenderfoot and I climbed to the top. Wes decided at the +last minute that he hadn't lost any mountains, and would prefer to fish. + +The ascent was accompanied by much breathlessness and a heavy pounding +of our hearts, so that we were forced to stop every twenty feet to +recover our physical balance. Each step upward dragged at our feet +like a leaden weight. Yet once we were on the level, or once we ceased +our very real exertions for a second or so, the difficulty left us, and +we breathed as easily as in the lower altitudes. + +The air itself was of a quality impossible to describe to you unless +you have traveled in the high countries. I know it is trite to say +that it had the exhilaration of wine, yet I can find no better simile. +We shouted and whooped and breathed deep and wanted to do things. + +The immediate surroundings of that mountain peak were absolutely barren +and absolutely still. How it was accomplished so high up I do not know, +but the entire structure on which we moved--I cannot say walked--was +composed of huge granite slabs. Sometimes these were laid side by side +like exaggerated paving flags; but oftener they were up-ended, piled in +a confusion over which we had precariously to scramble. And the +silence. It was so still that the very ringing in our ears came to a +prominence absurd and almost terrifying. The wind swept by noiseless, +because it had nothing movable to startle into noise. The solid +eternal granite lay heavy in its statics across the possibility of even +a whisper. The blue vault of heaven seemed emptied of sound. + +But the wind did stream by unceasingly, weird in the unaccustomedness +of its silence. And the sky was blue as a turquoise, and the sun +burned fiercely, and the air was cold as the water of a mountain spring. + +We stretched ourselves behind a slab of granite, and ate the luncheon +we had brought, cold venison steak and bread. By and by a marvelous +thing happened. A flash of wings sparkled in the air, a brave little +voice challenged us cheerily, a pert tiny rock-wren flirted his tail +and darted his wings and wanted to know what we were thinking of anyway +to enter his especial territory. And shortly from nowhere appeared two +Canada Jays, silent as the wind itself, hoping for a share in our meal. +Then the Tenderfoot discovered in a niche some strange, hardy alpine +flowers. So we established a connection, through these wondrous brave +children of the great mother, with the world of living things. + +After we had eaten, which was the very first thing we did, we walked to +the edge of the main crest and looked over. That edge went straight +down. I do not know how far, except that even in contemplation we +entirely lost our breaths, before we had fallen half way to the bottom. +Then intervened a ledge, and in the ledge was a round glacier lake of +the very deepest and richest ultramarine you can find among your +paint-tubes, and on the lake floated cakes of dazzling white ice. That +was enough for the moment. + +Next we leaped at one bound direct down to some brown hazy liquid shot +with the tenderest filaments of white. After analysis we discovered +the hazy brown liquid to be the earth of the plains, and the filaments +of white to be roads. Thus instructed we made out specks which were +towns. That was all. + +The rest was too insignificant to classify without the aid of a +microscope. + +And afterwards, across those plains, oh, many, many leagues, were the +Inyo and Panamit mountains, and beyond them Nevada and Arizona, and +blue mountains, and bluer, and still bluer rising, rising, rising +higher and higher until at the level of the eye they blended with the +heavens and were lost somewhere away out beyond the edge of the world. + +We said nothing, but looked for a long time. Then we turned inland to +the wonderful great titans of mountains clear-cut in the crystalline +air. Never was such air. Crystalline is the only word which will +describe it, for almost it seemed that it would ring clearly when +struck, so sparkling and delicate and fragile was it. The crags and +fissures across the way--two miles across the way--were revealed +through it as through some medium whose transparence was absolute. +They challenged the eye, stereoscopic in their relief. Were it not for +the belittling effects of the distance, we felt that we might count the +frost seams or the glacial scorings on every granite apron. Far below +we saw the irregular outline of our lake. It looked like a pond a few +hundred feet down. Then we made out a pin-point of white moving +leisurely near its border. After a while we realized that the +pin-point of white was one of our pack-horses, and immediately the flat +little scene shot backwards as though moved from behind and +acknowledged its due number of miles. The miniature crags at its back +became gigantic; the peaks beyond grew thousands of feet in the +establishment of a proportion which the lack of "atmosphere" had +denied. We never succeeded in getting adequate photographs. As well +take pictures of any eroded little arroyo or granite caņon. Relative +sizes do not exist, unless pointed out. + +"See that speck there?" we explain. "That's a big pine-tree. So by +that you can see how tremendous those cliffs really are." + +And our guest looks incredulously at the speck. + +There was snow, of course, lying cold in the hot sun. This phenomenon +always impresses a man when first he sees it. Often I have ridden with +my sleeves rolled up and the front of my shirt open, over drifts whose +edges, even, dripped no water. The direct rays seem to have absolutely +no effect. A scientific explanation I have never heard expressed; but +I suppose the cold nights freeze the drifts and pack them so hard that +the short noon heat cannot penetrate their density. I may be quite +wrong as to my reason, but I am entirely correct as to my fact. + +Another curious thing is that we met our mosquitoes only rarely below +the snow-line. The camping in the Sierras is ideal for lack of these +pests. They never bite hard nor stay long even when found. But just +as sure as we approached snow, then we renewed acquaintance with our +old friends of the north woods. + +It is analogous to the fact that the farther north you go into the fur +countries, the more abundant they become. + +By and by it was time to descend. The camp lay directly below us. We +decided to go to it straight, and so stepped off on an impossibly steep +slope covered, not with the great boulders and granite blocks, but with +a fine loose shale. At every stride we stepped ten feet and slid five. +It was gloriously near to flying. Leaning far back, our arms spread +wide to keep our balance, spying alertly far ahead as to where we were +going to land, utterly unable to check until we encountered a +half-buried ledge of some sort, and shouting wildly at every plunge, we +fairly shot downhill. The floor of our valley rose to us as the earth +to a descending balloon. In three quarters of an hour we had reached +the first flat. + +There we halted to puzzle over the trail of a mountain lion clearly +printed on the soft ground. What had the great cat been doing away up +there above the hunting country, above cover, above everything that +would appeal to a well-regulated cat of any size whatsoever? We +theorized at length, but gave it up finally, and went on. Then a +familiar perfume rose to our nostrils. We plucked curiously at a bed +of catnip and wondered whether the animal had journeyed so far to enjoy +what is always such a treat to her domestic sisters. + +It was nearly dark when we reached camp. We found Wes contentedly +scraping away at the bearskins. + +"Hello," said he, looking up with a grin. "Hello, you dam fools! I'VE +been having a good time. I've been fishing." + + + +XVIII + +THE GIANT FOREST + +Every one is familiar, at least by reputation and photograph, with the +Big Trees of California. All have seen pictures of stage-coaches +driving in passageways cut through the bodies of the trunks; of troops +of cavalry ridden on the prostrate trees. No one but has heard of the +dancing-floor or the dinner-table cut from a single cross-section; and +probably few but have seen some of the fibrous bark of unbelievable +thickness. The Mariposa, Calaveras, and Santa Cruz groves have become +household names. + +The public at large, I imagine, meaning by that you and me and our +neighbors, harbor an idea that the Big Tree occurs only as a remnant, +in scattered little groves carefully fenced and piously visited by the +tourist. What would we have said to the information that in the very +heart of the Sierras there grows a thriving forest of these great +trees; that it takes over a day to ride throughout that forest; and +that it comprises probably over five thousand specimens? + +Yet such is the case. On the ridges and high plateaus north of the +Kaweah River is the forest I describe; and of that forest the trees +grow from fifteen to twenty-six feet in diameter. Do you know what +that means? Get up from your chair and pace off the room you are in. +If it is a very big room, its longest dimension would just about +contain one of the bigger trunks. Try to imagine a tree like that. + +It must be a columnar tree straight and true as the supports of a Greek +facade. The least deviation from the perpendicular of such a mass +would cause it to fall. The limbs are sturdy like the arms of +Hercules, and grow out from the main trunk direct instead of dividing +and leading that main trunk to themselves, as is the case with other +trees. The column rises with a true taper to its full height; then is +finished with the conical effect of the top of a monument. Strangely +enough the frond is exceedingly fine, and the cones small. + +When first you catch sight of a Sequoia, it does not impress you +particularly except as a very fine tree. Its proportions are so +perfect that its effect is rather to belittle its neighbors than to +show in its true magnitude. Then, gradually, as your experience takes +cognizance of surroundings,--the size of a sugar-pine, of a boulder, of +a stream flowing near,--the giant swells and swells before your very +vision until he seems at the last even greater than the mere statistics +of his inches had led you to believe. And after that first surprise +over finding the Sequoia something not monstrous but beautiful in +proportion has given place to the full realization of what you are +beholding, you will always wonder why no one who has seen has ever +given any one who has not seen an adequate idea of these magnificent +old trees. + +Perhaps the most insistent note, besides that of mere size and dignity, +is of absolute stillness. These trees do not sway to the wind, their +trunks are constructed to stand solid. Their branches do not bend and +murmur, for they too are rigid in fiber. Their fine thread-like +needles may catch the breeze's whisper, may draw together and apart for +the exchange of confidences as do the leaves of other trees, but if so, +you and I are too far below to distinguish it. All about, the other +forest growths may be rustling and bowing and singing with the voices +of the air; the Sequoia stands in the hush of an absolute calm. It is +as though he dreamed, too wrapt in still great thoughts of his youth, +when the earth itself was young, to share the worldlier joys of his +neighbor, to be aware of them, even himself to breathe deeply. You feel +in the presence of these trees as you would feel in the presence of a +kindly and benignant sage, too occupied with larger things to enter +fully into your little affairs, but well disposed in the wisdom of +clear spiritual insight. + +This combination of dignity, immobility, and a certain serene +detachment has on me very much the same effect as does a mountain +against the sky. It is quite unlike the impression made by any other +tree, however large, and is lovable. + +We entered the Giant Forest by a trail that climbed. Always we entered +desirable places by trails that climbed or dropped. Our access to +paradise was never easy. About halfway up we met five pack-mules and +two men coming down. For some reason, unknown, I suspect, even to the +god of chance, our animals behaved themselves and walked straight ahead +in a beautiful dignity, while those weak-minded mules scattered and +bucked and scraped under trees and dragged back on their halters when +caught. The two men cast on us malevolent glances as often as they +were able, but spent most of their time swearing and running about. We +helped them once or twice by heading off, but were too thankfully +engaged in treading lightly over our own phenomenal peace to pay much +attention. Long after we had gone on, we caught bursts of rumpus +ascending from below. Shortly we came to a comparatively level +country, and a little meadow, and a rough sign which read + +"Feed 20C a night." + + +Just beyond this extortion was the Giant Forest. + +We entered it toward the close of the afternoon, and rode on after our +wonted time looking for feed at less than twenty cents a night. The +great trunks, fluted like marble columns, blackened against the western +sky. As they grew huger, we seemed to shrink, until we moved fearful +as prehistoric man must have moved among the forces over which he had +no control. We discovered our feed in a narrow "stringer" a few miles +on. That night, we, pigmies, slept in the setting before which should +have stridden the colossi of another age. Perhaps eventually, in spite +of its magnificence and wonder, we were a little glad to leave the +Giant Forest. It held us too rigidly to a spiritual standard of which +our normal lives were incapable; it insisted on a loftiness of soul, a +dignity, an aloofness from the ordinary affairs of life, the ordinary +occupations of thought hardly compatible with the powers of any +creature less noble, less aged, less wise in the passing of centuries +than itself. + + + +XIX + +ON COWBOYS + +Your cowboy is a species variously subdivided. If you happen to be +traveled as to the wild countries, you will be able to recognize whence +your chance acquaintance hails by the kind of saddle he rides, and the +rigging of it; by the kind of rope he throws, and the method of the +throwing; by the shape of hat he wears; by his twist of speech; even by +the very manner of his riding. Your California "vaquero" from the +Coast Ranges is as unlike as possible to your Texas cowman, and both +differ from the Wyoming or South Dakota article. I should be puzzled +to define exactly the habitat of the "typical" cowboy. No matter where +you go, you will find your individual acquaintance varying from the +type in respect to some of the minor details. + +Certain characteristics run through the whole tribe, however. Of these +some are so well known or have been so adequately done elsewhere that +it hardly seems wise to elaborate on them here. Let us assume that you +and I know what sort of human beings cowboys are,--with all their +taciturnity, their surface gravity, their keen sense of humor, their +courage, their kindness, their freedom, their lawlessness, their +foulness of mouth, and their supreme skill in the handling of horses +and cattle. I shall try to tell you nothing of all that. + +If one thinks down doggedly to the last analysis, he will find that the +basic reason for the differences between a cowboy and other men rests +finally on an individual liberty, a freedom from restraint either of +society or convention, a lawlessness, an accepting of his own standard +alone. He is absolutely self-poised and sufficient; and that +self-poise and that sufficiency he takes pains to assure first of all. +After their assurance he is willing to enter into human relations. His +attitude toward everything in life is, not suspicious, but watchful. +He is "gathered together," his elbows at his side. + +This evidences itself most strikingly in his terseness of speech. A +man dependent on himself naturally does not give himself away to the +first comer. He is more interested in finding out what the other fellow +is than in exploiting his own importance. A man who does much +promiscuous talking he is likely to despise, arguing that man +incautious, hence weak. + +Yet when he does talk, he talks to the point and with a vivid and +direct picturesqueness of phrase which is as refreshing as it is +unexpected. The delightful remodeling of the English language in Mr. +Alfred Lewis's "Wolfville" is exaggerated only in quantity, not in +quality. No cowboy talks habitually in quite as original a manner as +Mr. Lewis's Old Cattleman; but I have no doubt that in time he would be +heard to say all the good things in that volume. I myself have +note-books full of just such gorgeous language, some of the best of +which I have used elsewhere, and so will not repeat here.[1] + +This vividness manifests itself quite as often in the selection of the +apt word as in the construction of elaborate phrases with a +half-humorous intention. A cowboy once told me of the arrival of a +tramp by saying, "He SIFTED into camp." Could any verb be more +expressive? Does not it convey exactly the lazy, careless, +out-at-heels shuffling gait of the hobo? Another in the course of +description told of a saloon scene, "They all BELLIED UP TO the bar." +Again, a range cook, objecting to purposeless idling about his fire, +shouted: "If you fellows come MOPING around here any more, I'LL SURE +MAKE YOU HARD TO CATCH!" "Fish in that pond, son? Why, there's some +fish in there big enough to rope," another advised me. "I quit +shoveling," one explained the story of his life, "because I couldn't +see nothing ahead of shoveling but dirt." The same man described +ploughing as, "Looking at a mule's tail all day." And one of the most +succinct epitomes of the motifs of fiction was offered by an old fellow +who looked over my shoulder as I was reading a novel. "Well, son," +said he, "what they doing now, KISSING OR KILLING?" + +Nor are the complete phrases behind in aptness. I have space for only +a few examples, but they will illustrate what I mean. Speaking of a +companion who was "putting on too much dog," I was informed, "He walks +like a man with a new suit of WOODEN UNDERWEAR!" Or again, in answer +to my inquiry as to a mutual acquaintance, "Jim? Oh, poor old Jim! +For the last week or so he's been nothing but an insignificant atom of +humanity hitched to a boil." + +But to observe the riot of imagination turned loose with the bridle +off, you must assist at a burst of anger on the part of one of these +men. It is mostly unprintable, but you will get an entirely new idea +of what profanity means. Also you will come to the conclusion that +you, with your trifling DAMNS, and the like, have been a very good boy +indeed. The remotest, most obscure, and unheard of conceptions are +dragged forth from earth, heaven, and hell, and linked together in a +sequence so original, so gaudy, and so utterly blasphemous, that you +gasp and are stricken with the most devoted admiration. It is genius. + +Of course I can give you no idea here of what these truly magnificent +oaths are like. It is a pity, for it would liberalize your education. +Occasionally, like a trickle of clear water into an alkali torrent, a +straight English sentence will drop into the flood. It is refreshing +by contrast, but weak. + +"If your brains were all made of dynamite, you couldn't blow the top of +your head off." + +"I wouldn't speak to him if I met him in hell carrying a lump of ice in +his hand." + +"That little horse'll throw you so high the blackbirds will build nests +in your hair before you come down." + +These are ingenious and amusing, but need the blazing settings from +which I have ravished them to give them their due force. + +In Arizona a number of us were sitting around the feeble camp-fire the +desert scarcity of fuel permits, smoking our pipes. We were all +contemplative and comfortably silent with the exception of one very +youthful person who had a lot to say. It was mainly about himself. +After he had bragged awhile without molestation, one of the older +cow-punchers grew very tired of it. He removed his pipe deliberately, +and spat in the fire. + +"Say, son," he drawled, "if you want to say something big, why don't +you say 'elephant'?" + +The young fellow subsided. We went on smoking our pipes. + +Down near the Chiracahua Range in southeastern Arizona, there is a +butte, and halfway up that butte is a cave, and in front of that cave +is a ramshackle porch-roof or shed. This latter makes the cave into a +dwelling-house. It is inhabited by an old "alkali" and half a dozen +bear dogs. I sat with the old fellow one day for nearly an hour. It +was a sociable visit, but economical of the English language. He made +one remark, outside our initial greeting. It was enough, for in +terseness, accuracy, and compression, I have never heard a better or +more comprehensive description of the arid countries. + +"Son," said he, "in this country thar is more cows and less butter, +more rivers and less water, and you kin see farther and see less than +in any other country in the world." + +Now this peculiar directness of phrase means but one thing,--freedom +from the influence of convention. The cowboy respects neither the +dictionary nor usage. He employs his words in the manner that best +suits him, and arranges them in the sequence that best expresses his +idea, untrammeled by tradition. It is a phase of the same lawlessness, +the same reliance on self, that makes for his taciturnity and +watchfulness. + +In essence, his dress is an adaptation to the necessities of his +calling; as a matter of fact, it is an elaboration on that. The broad +heavy felt hat he has found by experience to be more effective in +turning heat than a lighter straw; he further runs to variety in the +shape of the crown and in the nature of the band. He wears a silk +handkerchief about his neck to turn the sun and keep out the dust, but +indulges in astonishing gaudiness of color. His gauntlets save his +hands from the rope; he adds a fringe and a silver star. The heavy +wide "chaps" of leather about his legs are necessary to him when he is +riding fast through brush; he indulges in such frivolities as stamped +leather, angora hair, and the like. High heels to his boots prevent +his foot from slipping through his wide stirrup, and are useful to dig +into the ground when he is roping in the corral. Even his six-shooter +is more a tool of his trade than a weapon of defense. With it he +frightens cattle from the heavy brush; he slaughters old or diseased +steers; he "turns the herd" in a stampede or when rounding it in; and +especially is it handy and loose to his hip in case his horse should +fall and commence to drag him. + +So the details of his appearance spring from the practical, but in the +wearing of them and the using of them he shows again that fine +disregard for the way other people do it or think it. + +Now in civilization you and I entertain a double respect for firearms +and the law. Firearms are dangerous, and it is against the law to use +them promiscuously. If we shoot them off in unexpected places, we +first of all alarm unduly our families and neighbors, and in due course +attract the notice of the police. By the time we are grown up we look +on shooting a revolver as something to be accomplished after an +especial trip for the purpose. + +But to the cowboy shooting a gun is merely what lighting a match would +be to us. We take reasonable care not to scratch that match on the +wall nor to throw it where it will do harm. Likewise the cowboy takes +reasonable care that his bullets do not land in some one's anatomy nor +in too expensive bric-a-brac. Otherwise any time or place will do. + +The picture comes to me of a bunk-house on an Arizona range. The time +was evening. A half-dozen cowboys were sprawled out on the beds +smoking, and three more were playing poker with the Chinese cook. A +misguided rat darted out from under one of the beds and made for the +empty fireplace. He finished his journey in smoke. Then the four who +had shot slipped their guns back into their holsters and resumed their +cigarettes and drawling low-toned conversation. + +On another occasion I stopped for noon at the Circle I ranch. While +waiting for dinner, I lay on my back in the bunk-room and counted three +hundred and sixty-two bullet-holes in the ceiling. They came to be +there because the festive cowboys used to while away the time while +lying as I was lying, waiting for supper, in shooting the flies that +crawled about the plaster. + +This beautiful familiarity with the pistol as a parlor toy accounts in +great part for a cowboy's propensity to "shoot up the town" and his +indignation when arrested therefor. + +The average cowboy is only a fair target-shot with the revolver. But +he is chain lightning at getting his gun off in a hurry. There are +exceptions to this, however, especially among the older men. Some can +handle the Colts 45 and its heavy recoil with almost uncanny accuracy. +I have seen individuals who could from their saddles nip lizards +darting across the road; and one who was able to perforate twice before +it hit the ground a tomato-can tossed into the air. The cowboy is +prejudiced against the double-action gun, for some reason or other. He +manipulates his single-action weapon fast enough, however. + +His sense of humor takes the same unexpected slants, not because his +mental processes differ from those of other men, but because he is +unshackled by the subtle and unnoticed nothingnesses of precedent which +deflect our action toward the common uniformity of our neighbors. It +must be confessed that his sense of humor possesses also a certain +robustness. + +The J. H. outfit had been engaged for ten days in busting broncos. +This the Chinese cook, Sang, a newcomer in the territory, found vastly +amusing. He liked to throw the ropes off the prostrate broncos, when +all was ready; to slap them on the flanks; to yell shrill Chinese +yells; and to dance in celestial delight when the terrified animal +arose and scattered out of there. But one day the range men drove up a +little bunch of full-grown cattle that had been bought from a smaller +owner. It was necessary to change the brands. Therefore a little fire +was built, the stamp-brand put in to heat, and two of the men on +horseback caught a cow by the horns and one hind leg, and promptly +upset her. The old brand was obliterated, the new one burnt in. This +irritated the cow. Promptly the branding-men, who were of course +afoot, climbed to the top of the corral to be out of the way. At this +moment, before the horsemen could flip loose their ropes, Sang appeared. + +"Hol' on!" he babbled. "I take him off;" and he scrambled over the +fence and approached the cow. + +Now cattle of any sort rush at the first object they see after getting +to their feet. But whereas a steer makes a blind run and so can be +avoided, a cow keeps her eyes open. Sang approached that wild-eyed +cow, a bland smile on his countenance. + +A dead silence fell. Looking about at my companions' faces I could not +discern even in the depths of their eyes a single faint flicker of +human interest. + +Sang loosened the rope from the hind leg, he threw it from the horns, +he slapped the cow with his hat, and uttered the shrill Chinese yell. +So far all was according to programme. + +The cow staggered to her feet, her eyes blazing fire. She took one good +look, and then started for Sang. + +What followed occurred with all the briskness of a tune from a circus +band. Sang darted for the corral fence. Now, three sides of the +corral were railed, and so climbable, but the fourth was a solid adobe +wall. Of course Sang went for the wall. There, finding his nails +would not stick, he fled down the length of it, his queue streaming, +his eyes popping, his talons curved toward an ideal of safety, +gibbering strange monkey talk, pursued a scant arm's length behind by +that infuriated cow. Did any one help him? Not any. Every man of +that crew was hanging weak from laughter to the horn of his saddle or +the top of the fence. The preternatural solemnity had broken to little +bits. Men came running from the bunk-house, only to go into spasms +outside, to roll over and over on the ground, clutching handfuls of +herbage in the agony of their delight. + +At the end of the corral was a narrow chute. Into this Sang escaped as +into a burrow. The cow came too. Sang, in desperation, seized a pole, +but the cow dashed such a feeble weapon aside. Sang caught sight of a +little opening, too small for cows, back into the main corral. He +squeezed through. The cow crashed through after him, smashing the +boards. At the crucial moment Sang tripped and fell on his face. The +cow missed him by so close a margin that for a moment we thought she +had hit. But she had not, and before she could turn, Sang had topped +the fence and was halfway to the kitchen. Tom Waters always maintained +that he spread his Chinese sleeves and flew. Shortly after a +tremendous smoke arose from the kitchen chimney. Sang had gone back to +cooking. + +Now that Mongolian was really in great danger, but no one of the outfit +thought for a moment of any but the humorous aspect of the affair. +Analogously, in a certain small cow-town I happened to be transient +when the postmaster shot a Mexican. Nothing was done about it. The man +went right on being postmaster, but he had to set up the drinks because +he had hit the Mexican in the stomach. That was considered a poor place +to hit a man. + +The entire town of Willcox knocked off work for nearly a day to while +away the tedium of an enforced wait there on my part. They wanted me +to go fishing. One man offered a team, the other a saddle-horse. All +expended much eloquence in directing me accurately, so that I should be +sure to find exactly the spot where I could hang my feet over a bank +beneath which there were "a plumb plenty of fish." Somehow or other +they raked out miscellaneous tackle. But they were a little too eager. +I excused myself and hunted up a map. Sure enough the lake was there, +but it had been dry since a previous geological period. The fish were +undoubtedly there too, but they were fossil fish. I borrowed a pickaxe +and shovel and announced myself as ready to start. + +Outside the principal saloon in one town hung a gong. When a stranger +was observed to enter the saloon, that gong was sounded. Then it +behooved him to treat those who came in answer to the summons. + +But when it comes to a case of real hospitality or helpfulness, your +cowboy is there every time. You are welcome to food and shelter without +price, whether he is at home or not. Only it is etiquette to leave +your name and thanks pinned somewhere about the place. Otherwise your +intrusion may be considered in the light of a theft, and you may be +pursued accordingly. + +Contrary to general opinion, the cowboy is not a dangerous man to those +not looking for trouble. There are occasional exceptions, of course, +but they belong to the universal genus of bully, and can be found among +any class. Attend to your own business, be cool and good-natured, and +your skin is safe. Then when it is really "up to you," be a man; you +will never lack for friends. + +The Sierras, especially towards the south where the meadows are wide +and numerous, are full of cattle in small bands. They come up from the +desert about the first of June, and are driven back again to the arid +countries as soon as the autumn storms begin. In the very high land +they are few, and to be left to their own devices; but now we entered a +new sort of country. + +Below Farewell Gap and the volcanic regions one's surroundings change +entirely. The meadows become high flat valleys, often miles in extent; +the mountains--while registering big on the aneroid--are so little +elevated above the plateaus that a few thousand feet is all of their +apparent height; the passes are low, the slopes easy, the trails good, +the rock outcrops few, the hills grown with forests to their very tops. +Altogether it is a country easy to ride through, rich in grazing, cool +and green, with its eight thousand feet of elevation. Consequently +during the hot months thousands of desert cattle are pastured here; and +with them come many of the desert men. + +Our first intimation of these things was in the volcanic region where +swim the golden trout. From the advantage of a hill we looked far down +to a hair-grass meadow through which twisted tortuously a brook, and by +the side of the brook, belittled by distance, was a miniature man. We +could see distinctly his every movement, as he approached cautiously +the stream's edge, dropped his short line at the end of a stick over +the bank, and then yanked bodily the fish from beneath. Behind him +stood his pony. We could make out in the clear air the coil of his +raw-hide "rope," the glitter of his silver bit, the metal points on his +saddle skirts, the polish of his six-shooter, the gleam of his fish, +all the details of his costume. Yet he was fully a mile distant. +After a time he picked up his string of fish, mounted, and jogged +loosely away at the cow-pony's little Spanish trot toward the south. +Over a week later, having caught golden trout and climbed Mount +Whitney, we followed him and so came to the great central camp at +Monache Meadows. + +Imagine an island-dotted lake of grass four or five miles long by two +or three wide to which slope regular shores of stony soil planted with +trees. Imagine on the very edge of that lake an especially fine grove +perhaps a quarter of a mile in length, beneath whose trees a dozen +different outfits of cowboys are camped for the summer. You must place +a herd of ponies in the foreground, a pine mountain at the back, an +unbroken ridge across ahead, cattle dotted here and there, thousands of +ravens wheeling and croaking and flapping everywhere, a marvelous clear +sun and blue sky. The camps were mostly open, though a few possessed +tents. They differed from the ordinary in that they had racks for +saddles and equipments. Especially well laid out were the cooking +arrangements. A dozen accommodating springs supplied fresh water with +the conveniently regular spacing of faucets. + +Towards evening the men jingled in. This summer camp was almost in the +nature of a vacation to them after the hard work of the desert. All +they had to do was to ride about the pleasant hills examining that the +cattle did not stray nor get into trouble. It was fun for them, and +they were in high spirits. + +Our immediate neighbors were an old man of seventy-two and his grandson +of twenty-five. At least the old man said he was seventy-two. I +should have guessed fifty. He was as straight as an arrow, wiry, lean, +clear-eyed, and had, without food, ridden twelve hours after some +strayed cattle. On arriving he threw off his saddle, turned his horse +loose, and set about the construction of supper. This consisted of +boiled meat, strong tea, and an incredible number of flapjacks built of +water, baking-powder, salt, and flour, warmed through--not cooked--in a +frying-pan. He deluged these with molasses and devoured three +platefuls. It would have killed an ostrich, but apparently did this +decrepit veteran of seventy-two much good. + +After supper he talked to us most interestingly in the dry cowboy +manner, looking at us keenly from under the floppy brim of his hat. He +confided to us that he had had to quit smoking, and it ground him--he'd +smoked since he was five years old. + +"Tobacco doesn't agree with you any more?" I hazarded. + +"Oh, 'taint that," he replied; "only I'd ruther chew." + +The dark fell, and all the little camp-fires under the trees twinkled +bravely forth. Some of the men sang. One had an accordion. Figures, +indistinct and formless, wandered here and there in the shadows, +suddenly emerging from mystery into the clarity of firelight, there to +disclose themselves as visitors. Out on the plain the cattle lowed, +the horses nickered. The red firelight flashed from the metal of +suspended equipment, crimsoned the bronze of men's faces, touched with +pink the high lights on their gracefully recumbent forms. After a +while we rolled up in our blankets and went to sleep, while a band of +coyotes wailed like lost spirits from a spot where a steer had died. + + +[1] See especially Jackson Himes in The Blazed Trail; and The Rawhide. + + + +XX + +THE GOLDEN TROUT + +After Farewell Gap, as has been hinted, the country changes utterly. +Possibly that is why it is named Farewell Gap. The land is wild, +weird, full of twisted trees, strangely colored rocks, fantastic +formations, bleak mountains of slabs, volcanic cones, lava, dry powdery +soil or loose shale, close-growing grasses, and strong winds. You feel +yourself in an upper world beyond the normal, where only the freakish +cold things of nature, elsewhere crowded out, find a home. Camp is +under a lonely tree, none the less solitary from the fact that it has +companions. The earth beneath is characteristic of the treeless lands, +so that these seem to have been stuck alien into it. There is no +shelter save behind great fortuitous rocks. Huge marmots run over the +boulders, like little bears. The wind blows strong. The streams run +naked under the eye of the sun, exposing clear and yellow every detail +of their bottoms. In them there are no deep hiding-places any more +than there is shelter in the land, and so every fish that swims shows +as plainly as in an aquarium. + +We saw them as we rode over the hot dry shale among the hot and twisted +little trees. They lay against the bottom, transparent; they darted +away from the jar of our horses' hoofs; they swam slowly against the +current, delicate as liquid shadows, as though the clear uniform golden +color of the bottom had clouded slightly to produce these tenuous +ghostly forms. We examined them curiously from the advantage our +slightly elevated trail gave us, and knew them for the Golden Trout, +and longed to catch some. + +All that day our route followed in general the windings of this unique +home of a unique fish. We crossed a solid natural bridge; we skirted +fields of red and black lava, vivid as poppies; we gazed marveling on +perfect volcano cones, long since extinct: finally we camped on a side +hill under two tall branchless trees in about as bleak and exposed a +position as one could imagine. Then all three, we jointed our rods and +went forth to find out what the Golden Trout was like. + +I soon discovered a number of things, as follows: The stream at this +point, near its source, is very narrow--I could step across it--and +flows beneath deep banks. The Golden Trout is shy of approach. The +wind blows. Combining these items of knowledge I found that it was no +easy matter to cast forty feet in a high wind so accurately as to hit a +three-foot stream a yard below the level of the ground. In fact, the +proposition was distinctly sporty; I became as interested in it as in +accurate target-shooting, so that at last I forgot utterly the +intention of my efforts and failed to strike my first rise. The +second, however, I hooked, and in a moment had him on the grass. + +He was a little fellow of seven inches, but mere size was nothing, the +color was the thing. And that was indeed golden. I can liken it to +nothing more accurately than the twenty-dollar gold-piece, the same +satin finish, the same pale yellow. The fish was fairly molten. It +did not glitter in gaudy burnishment, as does our aquarium gold-fish, +for example, but gleamed and melted and glowed as though fresh from the +mould. One would almost expect that on cutting the flesh it would be +found golden through all its substance. This for the basic color. You +must remember always that it was a true trout, without scales, and so +the more satiny. Furthermore, along either side of the belly ran two +broad longitudinal stripes of exactly the color and burnish of the +copper paint used on racing yachts. + +I thought then, and have ever since, that the Golden Trout, fresh from +the water, is one of the most beautiful fish that swims. Unfortunately +it fades very quickly, and so specimens in alcohol can give no idea of +it. In fact, I doubt if you will ever be able to gain a very clear +idea of it unless you take to the trail that leads up, under the end of +which is known technically as the High Sierras. + +The Golden Trout lives only in this one stream, but occurs there in +countless multitudes. Every little pool, depression, or riffles has +its school. When not alarmed they take the fly readily. One afternoon +I caught an even hundred in a little over an hour. By way of +parenthesis it may be well to state that most were returned unharmed to +the water. They run small,--a twelve-inch fish is a monster,--but are +of extraordinary delicacy for eating. We three devoured sixty-five +that first evening in camp. + +Now the following considerations seem to me at this point worthy of +note. In the first place, the Golden Trout occurs but in this one +stream, and is easily caught. At present the stream is comparatively +inaccessible, so that the natural supply probably keeps even with the +season's catches. Still the trail is on the direct route to Mount +Whitney, and year by year the ascent of this "top of the Republic" is +becoming more the proper thing to do. Every camping party stops for a +try at the Golden Trout, and of course the fish-hog is a sure +occasional migrant. The cowboys told of two who caught six hundred in a +day. As the certainly increasing tide of summer immigration gains in +volume, the Golden Trout, in spite of his extraordinary numbers at +present, is going to be caught out. + +Therefore, it seems the manifest duty of the Fisheries to provide for +the proper protection and distribution of this species, especially the +distribution. Hundreds of streams in the Sierras are without trout +simply because of some natural obstruction, such as a waterfall too +high to jump, which prevents their ascent of the current. These are +all well adapted to the planting of fish, and might just as well be +stocked by the Golden Trout as by the customary Rainbow. Care should be +taken lest the two species become hybridized, as has occurred following +certain misguided efforts in the South Fork of the Kern. + +So far as I know but one attempt has been made to transplant these +fish. About five or six years ago a man named Grant carried some in +pails across to a small lake near at hand. They have done well, and +curiously enough have grown to a weight of from one and a half to two +pounds. This would seem to show that their small size in Volcano Creek +results entirely from conditions of feed or opportunity for +development, and that a study of proper environment might result in a +game fish to rival the Rainbow in size and certainly to surpass him in +curious interest. + +A great many well-meaning people who have marveled at the abundance of +the Golden Trout in their natural habitat laugh at the idea that +Volcano Creek will ever become "fished out." To such it should be +pointed out that the fish in question is a voracious feeder, is without +shelter, and quickly landed. A simple calculation will show how many +fish a hundred moderate anglers, camping a week apiece, would take out +in a season. And in a short time there will be many more than a +hundred, few of them moderate, coming up into the mountains to camp +just as long as they have a good time. All it needs is better trails, +and better trails are under way. Well-meaning people used to laugh at +the idea that the buffalo and wild pigeons would ever disappear. They +are gone. + + + +XXI + +ON GOING OUT + +The last few days of your stay in the wilderness you will be consumedly +anxious to get out. It does not matter how much of a savage you are, +how good a time you are having, or how long you have been away from +civilization. Nor does it mean especially that you are glad to leave +the wilds. Merely does it come about that you drift unconcernedly on +the stream of days until you approach the brink of departure: then +irresistibly the current hurries you into haste. The last day of your +week's vacation; the last three of your month's or your summer's or +your year's outing,--these comprise the hours in which by a mighty but +invisible transformation your mind forsakes its savagery, epitomizes +again the courses of social evolution, regains the poise and +cultivation of the world of men. Before that you have been content; +yes, and would have gone on being content for as long as you please +until the approach of the limit you have set for your wandering. + +In effect this transformation from the state of savagery to the state +of civilization is very abrupt. When you leave the towns your clothes +and mind are new. Only gradually do they take on the color of their +environment; only gradually do the subtle influences of the great +forest steal in on your dulled faculties to flow over them in a tide +that rises imperceptibly. You glide as gently from the artificial to +the natural life as do the forest shadows from night to day. But at +the other end the affair is different. There you awake on the appointed +morning in complete resumption of your old attitude of mind. The tide +of nature has slipped away from you in the night. + +Then you arise and do the most wonderful of your wilderness traveling. +On those days you look back fondly, of them you boast afterwards in +telling what a rapid and enduring voyager you are. The biggest day's +journey I ever undertook was in just such a case. We started at four +in the morning through a forest of the early spring-time, where the +trees were glorious overhead, but the walking ankle deep. On our backs +were thirty-pound burdens. We walked steadily until three in the +afternoon, by which time we had covered thirty miles and had arrived at +what then represented civilization to us. Of the nine who started, two +Indians finished an hour ahead; the half breed, Billy, and I staggered +in together, encouraging each other by words concerning the bottle of +beer we were going to buy; and the five white men never got in at all +until after nine o'clock that night. Neither thirty miles, nor thirty +pounds, nor ankle-deep slush sounds formidable when considered as +abstract and separate propositions. + +In your first glimpse of the civilized peoples your appearance in your +own eyes will undergo the same instantaneous and tremendous revulsion +that has already taken place in your mental sphere. Heretofore you +have considered yourself as a decently well appointed gentleman of the +woods. Ten to one, in contrast to the voluntary or enforced simplicity +of the professional woodsman you have looked on your little luxuries of +carved leather hat-band, fancy knife sheath, pearl-handled six-shooter, +or khaki breeches as giving you slightly the air of a forest exquisite. +But on that depot platform or in presence of that staring group on the +steps of the Pullman, you suddenly discover yourself to be nothing less +than a disgrace to your bringing up. Nothing could be more evident +than the flop of your hat, the faded, dusty appearance of your blue +shirt, the beautiful black polish of your khakis, the grime of your +knuckles, the three days' beard of your face. If you are a fool, you +worry about it. If you are a sensible man, you do not mind;--and you +prepare for amusing adventures. + +The realization of your external unworthiness, however, brings to your +heart the desire for a hot bath in a porcelain tub. You gloat over the +thought; and when the dream comes to be a reality, you soak away in as +voluptuous a pleasure as ever falls to the lot of man to enjoy. Then +you shave, and array yourself minutely and preciously in clean clothes +from head to toe, building up a new respectability, and you leave +scornfully in a heap your camping garments. They have heretofore +seemed clean, but now you would not touch them, no, not even to put +them in the soiled-clothes basket, let your feminines rave as they may. +And for at least two days you prove an almost childish delight in mere +raiment. + +But before you can reach this blissful stage you have still to order +and enjoy your first civilized dinner. It tastes good, not because +your camp dinners have palled on you, but because your transformation +demands its proper aliment. Fortunate indeed you are if you step +directly to a transcontinental train or into the streets of a modern +town. Otherwise the transition through the small-hotel provender is +apt to offer too little contrast for the fullest enjoyment. But aboard +the dining-car or in the cafe you will gather to yourself such +ill-assorted succulence as thick, juicy beefsteaks, and creamed +macaroni, and sweet potatoes, and pie, and red wine, and real cigars +and other things. + +In their acquisition your appearance will tell against you. We were +once watched anxiously by a nervous female head waiter who at last +mustered up courage enough to inform me that guests were not allowed to +eat without coats. We politely pointed out that we possessed no such +garments. After a long consultation with the proprietor she told us it +was all right for this time, but that we must not do it again. At +another place I had to identify myself as a responsible person by +showing a picture in a magazine bought for the purpose. + +The public never will know how to take you. Most of it treats you as +though you were a two-dollar a day laborer; some of the more astute are +puzzled. One February I walked out of the North Country on snowshoes +and stepped directly into a Canadian Pacific transcontinental train. I +was clad in fur cap, vivid blanket coat, corded trousers, German +stockings and moccasins; and my only baggage was the pair of snowshoes. +It was the season of light travel. A single Englishman touring the +world as the crow flies occupied the car. He looked at me so askance +that I made an opportunity of talking to him. I should like to read +his "Travels" to see what he made out of the riddle. In similar +circumstances, and without explanation, I had fun talking French and +swapping boulevard reminiscences with a member of a Parisian theatrical +troupe making a long jump through northern Wisconsin. And once, at six +of the morning, letting myself into my own house with a latch-key, and +sitting down to read the paper until the family awoke, I was nearly +brained by the butler. He supposed me a belated burglar, and had armed +himself with the poker. The most flattering experience of the kind was +voiced by a small urchin who plucked at his mother's sleeve: "Look, +mamma!" he exclaimed in guarded but jubilant tones, "there's a real +Indian!" + +Our last camp of this summer was built and broken in the full leisure +of at least a three weeks' expectation. We had traveled south from the +Golden Trout through the Toowah range. There we had viewed wonders +which I cannot expect you to believe in,--such as a spring of warm +water in which you could bathe and from which you could reach to dip up +a cup of carbonated water on the right hand, or cast a fly into a trout +stream, on the left. At length we entered a high meadow in the shape +of a maltese cross, with pine slopes about it, and springs of water +welling in little humps of green. There the long pine-needles were +extraordinarily thick and the pine-cones exceptionally large. The +former we scraped together to the depth of three feet for a bed in the +lea of a fallen trunk; the latter we gathered in armfuls to pile on the +camp-fire. Next morning we rode down a mile or so through the grasses, +exclaimed over the thousands of mountain quail buzzing from the creek +bottoms, gazed leisurely up at our well-known pines and about at the +grateful coolness of our accustomed green meadows and leaves;--and +then, as though we had crossed a threshold, we emerged into chaparral, +dry loose shale, yucca, Spanish bayonet, heated air and the bleached +burned-out furnace-like country of arid California in midsummer. The +trail dropped down through sage-brush, just as it always did in the +California we had known; the mountains rose with the fur-like +dark-olive effect of the coast ranges; the sun beat hot. We had left +the enchanted land. + +The trail was very steep and very long, and took us finally into the +country of dry brown grasses, gray brush, waterless stony ravines, and +dust. Others had traveled that trail, headed the other way, and +evidently had not liked it. Empty bottles blazed the path. Somebody +had sacrificed a pack of playing-cards, which he had stuck on thorns +from time to time, each inscribed with a blasphemous comment on the +discomforts of such travel. After an apparently interminable interval +we crossed an irrigating ditch, where the horses were glad to water, +and so came to one of those green flowering lush California villages so +startlingly in contrast to their surroundings. + +By this it was two o'clock and we had traveled on horseback since four. +A variety of circumstances learned at the village made it imperative +that both the Tenderfoot and myself should go out without the delay of +a single hour. This left Wes to bring the horses home, which was tough +on Wes, but he rose nobly to the occasion. + +When the dust of our rustling cleared, we found we had acquired a team +of wild broncos, a buckboard, an elderly gentleman with a white goatee, +two bottles of beer, some crackers and some cheese. With these we hoped +to reach the railroad shortly after midnight. + +The elevation was five thousand feet, the road dusty and hot, the +country uninteresting in sage-brush and alkali and rattlesnakes and +general dryness. Constantly we drove, checking off the landmarks in the +good old fashion. Our driver had immigrated from Maine the year +before, and by some chance had drifted straight to the arid regions. +He was vastly disgusted. At every particularly atrocious dust-hole or +unlovely cactus strip he spat into space and remarked in tones of +bottomless contempt:-- + +"BEAU-ti-ful Cal-if-or-nia!" + +This was evidently intended as a quotation. + +Towards sunset we ran up into rounded hills, where we got out at every +rise in order to ease the horses, and where we hurried the old +gentleman beyond the limits of his Easterner's caution at every descent. + +It grew dark. Dimly the road showed gray in the twilight. We did not +know how far exactly we were to go, but imagined that sooner or later +we would top one of the small ridges to look across one of the broad +plateau plains to the lights of our station. You see we had forgotten, +in the midst of flatness, that we were still over five thousand feet +up. Then the road felt its way between two hills;--and the blackness +of night opened below us as well as above, and from some deep and +tremendous abyss breathed the winds of space. + +It was as dark as a cave, for the moon was yet two hours below the +horizon. Somehow the trail turned to the right along that tremendous +cliff. We thought we could make out its direction, the dimness of its +glimmering; but equally well, after we had looked a moment, we could +imagine it one way or another, to right and left. I went ahead to +investigate. The trail to left proved to be the faint reflection of a +clump of "old man" at least five hundred feet down; that to right was a +burned patch sheer against the rise of the cliff. We started on the +middle way. + +There were turns-in where a continuance straight ahead would require an +airship or a coroner; again turns-out where the direct line would +telescope you against the state of California. These we could make out +by straining our eyes. The horses plunged and snorted; the buckboard +leaped. Fire flashed from the impact of steel against rock, +momentarily blinding us to what we should see. Always we descended +into the velvet blackness of the abyss, the caņon walls rising steadily +above us shutting out even the dim illumination of the stars. From +time to time our driver, desperately scared, jerked out cheering bits +of information. + +"My eyes ain't what they was. For the Lord's sake keep a-lookin', +boys." + +"That nigh hoss is deef. There don't seem to be no use saying WHOA to +her." + +"Them brakes don't hold fer sour peanuts. I been figgerin' on tackin' +on a new shoe for a week." + +"I never was over this road but onct, and then I was headed th' other +way. I was driving of a corpse." + +Then, after two hours of it, BING! BANG! SMASH! our tongue collided +with a sheer black wall, no blacker than the atmosphere before it. The +trail here took a sharp V turn to the left. We had left the face of +the precipice and henceforward would descend the bed of the caņon. +Fortunately our collision had done damage to nothing but our nerves, so +we proceeded to do so. + +The walls of the crevice rose thousands of feet above us. They seemed +to close together, like the sides of a tent, to leave only a narrow +pale lucent strip of sky. The trail was quite invisible, and even the +sense of its existence was lost when we traversed groves of trees. One +of us had to run ahead of the horses, determining its general +direction, locating the sharper turns. The rest depended on the +instinct of the horses and pure luck. + +It was pleasant in the cool of night thus to run down through the +blackness, shouting aloud to guide our followers, swinging to the +slope, bathed to the soul in mysteries of which we had no time to take +cognizance. + +By and by we saw a little spark far ahead of us like a star. The smell +of fresh wood smoke and stale damp fire came to our nostrils. We +gained the star and found it to be a log smouldering; and up the hill +other stars red as blood. So we knew that we had crossed the zone of +an almost extinct forest fire, and looked on the scattered camp-fires +of an army of destruction. + +The moon rose. We knew it by touches of white light on peaks +infinitely far above us; not at all by the relieving of the heavy +velvet blackness in which we moved. After a time, I, running ahead in +my turn, became aware of the deep breathing of animals. I stopped short +and called a warning. Immediately a voice answered me. + +"Come on, straight ahead. They're not on the road." + +When within five feet I made out the huge freight wagons in which were +lying the teamsters, and very dimly the big freight mules standing +tethered to the wheels. + +"It's a dark night, friend, and you're out late." + +"A dark night," I agreed, and plunged on. Behind me rattled and banged +the abused buckboard, snorted the half-wild broncos, groaned the +unrepaired brake, softly cursed my companions. + +Then at once the abrupt descent ceased. We glided out to the silvered +flat, above which sailed the moon. + +The hour was seen to be half past one. We had missed our train. +Nothing was visible of human habitations. The land was frosted with +the moonlight, enchanted by it, etherealized. Behind us, huge and +formidable, loomed the black mass of the range we had descended. +Before us, thin as smoke in the magic lucence that flooded the world, +rose other mountains, very great, lofty as the sky. We could not +understand them. The descent we had just accomplished should have +landed us on a level plain in which lay our town. But here we found +ourselves in a pocket valley entirely surrounded by mountain ranges +through which there seemed to be no pass less than five or six thousand +feet in height. + +We reined in the horses to figure it out. + +"I don't see how it can be," said I. "We've certainly come far enough. +It would take us four hours at the very least to cross that range, even +if the railroad should happen to be on the other side of it." + +"I been through here only once," repeated the driver,--"going the other +way.--Then I drew a corpse." He spat, and added as an afterthought, +"BEAU-ti-ful Cal-if-or-nia!" + +We stared at the mountains that hemmed us in. They rose above us sheer +and forbidding. In the bright moonlight plainly were to be descried +the brush of the foothills, the timber, the fissures, the caņons, the +granites, and the everlasting snows. Almost we thought to make out a +thread of a waterfall high up where the clouds would be if the night +had not been clear. + +"We got off the trail somewhere," hazarded the Tenderfoot. + +"Well, we're on a road, anyway," I pointed out. "It's bound to go +somewhere. We might as well give up the railroad and find a place to +turn-in." + +"It can't be far," encouraged the Tenderfoot; "this valley can't be +more than a few miles across." + +"Gi dap!" remarked the driver. + +We moved forward down the white wagon trail approaching the mountains. +And then we were witnesses of the most marvelous transformation. For +as we neared them, those impregnable mountains, as though +panic-stricken by our advance, shrunk back, dissolved, dwindled, went +to pieces. Where had towered ten-thousand-foot peaks, perfect in the +regular succession from timber to snow, now were little flat hills on +which grew tiny bushes of sage. A passage opened between them. In a +hundred yards we had gained the open country, leaving behind us the +mighty but unreal necromancies of the moon. + +Before us gleamed red and green lights. The mass of houses showed half +distinguishable. A feeble glimmer illuminated part of a white sign +above the depot. That which remained invisible was evidently the name +of the town. That which was revealed was the supplementary information +which the Southern Pacific furnishes to its patrons. It read: +"Elevation 482 feet." We were definitely out of the mountains. + + + +XXII + +THE LURE OF THE TRAIL + +The trail's call depends not at all on your common sense. You know you +are a fool for answering it; and yet you go. The comforts of +civilization, to put the case on its lowest plane, are not lightly to +be renounced: the ease of having your physical labor done for you; the +joy of cultivated minds, of theatres, of books, of participation in the +world's progress; these you leave behind you. And in exchange you +enter a life where there is much long hard work of the hands--work that +is really hard and long, so that no man paid to labor would consider it +for a moment; you undertake to eat simply, to endure much, to lie on +the rack of anxiety; you voluntarily place yourself where cold, wet, +hunger, thirst, heat, monotony, danger, and many discomforts will wait +upon you daily. A thousand times in the course of a woods life even +the stoutest-hearted will tell himself softly--very softly if he is +really stout-hearted, so that others may not be annoyed--that if ever +the fates permit him to extricate himself he will never venture again. + +These times come when long continuance has worn on the spirit. You +beat all day to windward against the tide toward what should be but an +hour's sail: the sea is high and the spray cold; there are sunken +rocks, and food there is none; chill gray evening draws dangerously +near, and there is a foot of water in the bilge. You have swallowed +your tongue twenty times on the alkali; and the sun is melting hot, and +the dust dry and pervasive, and there is no water, and for all your +effort the relative distances seem to remain the same for days. You +have carried a pack until your every muscle is strung white-hot; the +woods are breathless; the black flies swarm persistently and bite until +your face is covered with blood. You have struggled through clogging +snow until each time you raise your snowshoe you feel as though some +one had stabbed a little sharp knife into your groin; it has come to be +night; the mercury is away below zero, and with aching fingers you are +to prepare a camp which is only an anticipation of many more such camps +in the ensuing days. For a week it has rained, so that you, pushing +through the dripping brush, are soaked and sodden and comfortless, and +the bushes have become horrible to your shrinking goose-flesh. Or you +are just plain tired out, not from a single day's fatigue, but from the +gradual exhaustion of a long hike. Then in your secret soul you utter +these sentiments:-- + +"You are a fool. This is not fun. There is no real reason why you +should do this. If you ever get out of here, you will stick right home +where common sense flourishes, my son!" + +Then after a time you do get out, and are thankful. But in three months +you will have proved in your own experience the following axiom--I +should call it the widest truth the wilderness has to teach:-- + +"In memory the pleasures of a camping trip strengthen with time, and +the disagreeables weaken." + +I don't care how hard an experience you have had, nor how little of the +pleasant has been mingled with it, in three months your general +impression of that trip will be good. You will look back on the hard +times with a certain fondness of recollection. + +I remember one trip I took in the early spring following a long drive +on the Pine River. It rained steadily for six days. We were soaked to +the skin all the time, ate standing up in the driving downpour, and +slept wet. So cold was it that each morning our blankets were so full +of frost that they crackled stiffly when we turned out. +Dispassionately I can appraise that as about the worst I ever got into. +Yet as an impression the Pine River trip seems to me a most enjoyable +one. + +So after you have been home for a little while the call begins to make +itself heard. At first it is very gentle. But little by little a +restlessness seizes hold of you. You do not know exactly what is the +matter: you are aware merely that your customary life has lost savor, +that you are doing things more or less perfunctorily, and that you are +a little more irritable than your naturally evil disposition. + +And gradually it is borne in on you exactly what is the matter. Then +say you to yourself:-- + +"My son, you know better. You are no tenderfoot. You have had too long +an experience to admit of any glamour of indefiniteness about this +thing. No use bluffing. You know exactly how hard you will have to +work, and how much tribulation you are going to get into, and how +hungry and wet and cold and tired and generally frazzled out you are +going to be. You've been there enough times so it's pretty clearly +impressed on you. You go into this thing with your eyes open. You +know what you're in for. You're pretty well off right here, and you'd +be a fool to go." + +"That's right," says yourself to you. "You're dead right about it, old +man. Do you know where we can get another pack-mule?" + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mountains, by Stewart Edward White + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOUNTAINS *** + +***** This file should be named 465-8.txt or 465-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/4/6/465/ + +Produced by Dianne Bean. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/465-8.zip b/465-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..07cd360 --- /dev/null +++ b/465-8.zip diff --git a/465-h.zip b/465-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..62a327c --- /dev/null +++ b/465-h.zip diff --git a/465-h/465-h.htm b/465-h/465-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c833df --- /dev/null +++ b/465-h/465-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7429 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of The Mountains, by Stewart Edward White +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.footnote {font-size: smaller ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.letter {font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mountains, by Stewart Edward White + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Mountains + +Author: Stewart Edward White + +Posting Date: October 9, 2008 [EBook #465] +Release Date: March, 1996 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOUNTAINS *** + + + + +Produced by Dianne Bean. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +THE MOUNTAINS +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +STEWART EDWARD WHITE +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +AUTHOR OF +<BR> +"THE BLAZED TRAIL," "SILENT PLACES," "THE FOREST," ETC. +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PREFACE +</H3> + +<P> +The author has followed a true sequence of events practically in all +particulars save in respect to the character of the Tenderfoot. He is +in one sense fictitious; in another sense real. He is real in that he +is the apotheosis of many tenderfeet, and that everything he does in +this narrative he has done at one time or another in the author's +experience. He is fictitious in the sense that he is in no way to be +identified with the third member of our party in the actual trip. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">THE RIDGE TRAIL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">ON EQUIPMENT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">ON HORSES</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">HOW TO GO ABOUT IT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">THE COAST RANGES</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">THE INFERNO</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">THE FOOT-HILLS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">THE PINES</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">THE TRAIL</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">ON SEEING DEER</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">ON TENDERFEET</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">THE CAŅON</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">TROUT, BUCKSKIN, AND PROSPECTORS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">ON CAMP COOKERY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">ON THE WIND AT NIGHT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">THE VALLEY</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">THE MAIN CREST</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">THE GIANT FOREST</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">ON COWBOYS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">THE GOLDEN TROUT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">ON GOING OUT</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22">THE LURE OF THE TRAIL</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +THE MOUNTAINS +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +I +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE RIDGE TRAIL +</H3> + +<P> +Six trails lead to the main ridge. They are all good trails, so that +even the casual tourist in the little Spanish-American town on the +seacoast need have nothing to fear from the ascent. In some spots they +contract to an arm's length of space, outside of which limit they drop +sheer away; elsewhere they stand up on end, zigzag in lacets each more +hair-raising than the last, or fill to demoralization with loose +boulders and shale. A fall on the part of your horse would mean a more +than serious accident; but Western horses do not fall. The major +premise stands: even the casual tourist has no real reason for fear, +however scared he may become. +</P> + +<P> +Our favorite route to the main ridge was by a way called the Cold +Spring Trail. We used to enjoy taking visitors up it, mainly because +you come on the top suddenly, without warning. Then we collected +remarks. Everybody, even the most stolid, said something. +</P> + +<P> +You rode three miles on the flat, two in the leafy and gradually +ascending creek-bed of a caņon, a half hour of laboring steepness in +the overarching mountain lilac and laurel. There you came to a great +rock gateway which seemed the top of the world. At the gateway was a +Bad Place where the ponies planted warily their little hoofs, and the +visitor played "eyes front," and besought that his mount should not +stumble. +</P> + +<P> +Beyond the gateway a lush level caņon into which you plunged as into a +bath; then again the laboring trail, up and always up toward the blue +California sky, out of the lilacs, and laurels, and redwood chaparral +into the manzanita, the Spanish bayonet, the creamy yucca, and the fine +angular shale of the upper regions. Beyond the apparent summit you +found always other summits yet to be climbed. And all at once, like +thrusting your shoulders out of a hatchway, you looked over the top. +</P> + +<P> +Then came the remarks. Some swore softly; some uttered appreciative +ejaculation; some shouted aloud; some gasped; one man uttered three +times the word "Oh,"—once breathlessly, Oh! once in awakening +appreciation, OH! once in wild enthusiasm, OH! Then invariably they +fell silent and looked. +</P> + +<P> +For the ridge, ascending from seaward in a gradual coquetry of +foot-hills, broad low ranges, cross-systems, caņons, little flats, and +gentle ravines, inland dropped off almost sheer to the river below. +And from under your very feet rose, range after range, tier after tier, +rank after rank, in increasing crescendo of wonderful tinted mountains +to the main crest of the Coast Ranges, the blue distance, the +mightiness of California's western systems. The eye followed them up +and up, and farther and farther, with the accumulating emotion of a +wild rush on a toboggan. There came a point where the fact grew to be +almost too big for the appreciation, just as beyond a certain point +speed seems to become unbearable. It left you breathless, +wonder-stricken, awed. You could do nothing but look, and look, and +look again, tongue-tied by the impossibility of doing justice to what +you felt. And in the far distance, finally, your soul, grown big in a +moment, came to rest on the great precipices and pines of the greatest +mountains of all, close under the sky. +</P> + +<P> +In a little, after the change had come to you, a change definite and +enduring, which left your inner processes forever different from what +they had been, you turned sharp to the west and rode five miles along +the knife-edge Ridge Trail to where Rattlesnake Caņon led you down and +back to your accustomed environment. +</P> + +<P> +To the left as you rode you saw, far on the horizon, rising to the +height of your eye, the mountains of the channel islands. Then the +deep sapphire of the Pacific, fringed with the soft, unchanging white +of the surf and the yellow of the shore. Then the town like a little +map, and the lush greens of the wide meadows, the fruit-groves, the +lesser ranges—all vivid, fertile, brilliant, and pulsating with +vitality. You filled your senses with it, steeped them in the beauty of +it. And at once, by a mere turn of the eyes, from the almost crude +insistence of the bright primary color of life, you faced the tenuous +azures of distance, the delicate mauves and amethysts, the lilacs and +saffrons of the arid country. +</P> + +<P> +This was the wonder we never tired of seeing for ourselves, of showing +to others. And often, academically, perhaps a little wistfully, as one +talks of something to be dreamed of but never enjoyed, we spoke of how +fine it would be to ride down into that land of mystery and +enchantment, to penetrate one after another the caņons dimly outlined +in the shadows cast by the westering sun, to cross the mountains lying +outspread in easy grasp of the eye, to gain the distant blue Ridge, and +see with our own eyes what lay beyond. +</P> + +<P> +For to its other attractions the prospect added that of impossibility, +of unattainableness. These rides of ours were day rides. We had to +get home by nightfall. Our horses had to be fed, ourselves to be +housed. We had not time to continue on down the other side whither the +trail led. At the very and literal brink of achievement we were forced +to turn back. +</P> + +<P> +Gradually the idea possessed us. We promised ourselves that some day +we would explore. In our after-dinner smokes we spoke of it. +Occasionally, from some hunter or forest-ranger, we gained little items +of information, we learned the fascination of musical names—Mono +Caņon, Patrera Don Victor, Lloma Paloma, Patrera Madulce, Cuyamas, +became familiar to us as syllables. We desired mightily to body them +forth to ourselves as facts. The extent of our mental vision expanded. +We heard of other mountains far beyond these farthest—mountains whose +almost unexplored vastnesses contained great forests, mighty valleys, +strong water-courses, beautiful hanging-meadows, deep caņons of +granite, eternal snows,—mountains so extended, so wonderful, that +their secrets offered whole summers of solitary exploration. We came +to feel their marvel, we came to respect the inferno of the Desert that +hemmed them in. Shortly we graduated from the indefiniteness of +railroad maps to the intricacies of geological survey charts. The +fever was on us. We must go. +</P> + +<P> +A dozen of us desired. Three of us went; and of the manner of our +going, and what you must know who would do likewise, I shall try here +to tell. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +II +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ON EQUIPMENT +</H3> + +<P> +If you would travel far in the great mountains where the trails are few +and bad, you will need a certain unique experience and skill. Before +you dare venture forth without a guide, you must be able to do a number +of things, and to do them well. +</P> + +<P> +First and foremost of all, you must be possessed of that strange sixth +sense best described as the sense of direction. By it you always know +about where you are. It is to some degree a memory for back-tracks and +landmarks, but to a greater extent an instinct for the lay of the +country, for relative bearings, by which you are able to make your way +across-lots back to your starting-place. It is not an uncommon +faculty, yet some lack it utterly. If you are one of the latter class, +do not venture, for you will get lost as sure as shooting, and being +lost in the mountains is no joke. +</P> + +<P> +Some men possess it; others do not. The distinction seems to be almost +arbitrary. It can be largely developed, but only in those with whom +original endowment of the faculty makes development possible. No matter +how long a direction-blind man frequents the wilderness, he is never +sure of himself. Nor is the lack any reflection on the intelligence. I +once traveled in the Black Hills with a young fellow who himself +frankly confessed that after much experiment he had come to the +conclusion he could not "find himself." He asked me to keep near him, +and this I did as well as I could; but even then, three times during +the course of ten days he lost himself completely in the tumultuous +upheavals and caņons of that badly mixed region. Another, an old +grouse-hunter, walked twice in a circle within the confines of a thick +swamp about two miles square. On the other hand, many exhibit almost +marvelous skill in striking a bee-line for their objective point, and +can always tell you, even after an engrossing and wandering hunt, +exactly where camp lies. And I know nothing more discouraging than to +look up after a long hard day to find your landmarks changed in +appearance, your choice widened to at least five diverging and similar +caņons, your pockets empty of food, and the chill mountain twilight +descending. +</P> + +<P> +Analogous to this is the ability to follow a dim trail. A trail in the +mountains often means merely a way through, a route picked out by some +prospector, and followed since at long intervals by chance travelers. +</P> + +<P> +It may, moreover, mean the only way through. Missing it will bring you +to ever-narrowing ledges, until at last you end at a precipice, and +there is no room to turn your horses around for the return. Some of +the great box caņons thousands of feet deep are practicable by but one +passage,—and that steep and ingenious in its utilization of ledges, +crevices, little ravines, and "hog's-backs"; and when the only +indications to follow consist of the dim vestiges left by your last +predecessor, perhaps years before, the affair becomes one of +considerable skill and experience. You must be able to pick out +scratches made by shod hoofs on the granite, depressions almost filled +in by the subsequent fall of decayed vegetation, excoriations on fallen +trees. You must have the sense to know AT ONCE when you have overrun +these indications, and the patience to turn back immediately to your +last certainty, there to pick up the next clue, even if it should take +you the rest of the day. In short, it is absolutely necessary that you +be at least a persistent tracker. +</P> + +<P> +Parenthetically; having found the trail, be charitable. Blaze it, if +there are trees; otherwise "monument" it by piling rocks on top of one +another. Thus will those who come after bless your unknown shade. +</P> + +<P> +Third, you must know horses. I do not mean that you should be a +horse-show man, with a knowledge of points and pedigrees. But you must +learn exactly what they can and cannot do in the matters of carrying +weights, making distance, enduring without deterioration hard climbs in +high altitudes; what they can or cannot get over in the way of bad +places. This last is not always a matter of appearance merely. Some +bits of trail, seeming impassable to anything but a goat, a Western +horse will negotiate easily; while others, not particularly terrifying +in appearance, offer complications of abrupt turn or a single bit of +unstable, leg-breaking footing which renders them exceedingly +dangerous. You must, moreover, be able to manage your animals to the +best advantage in such bad places. Of course you must in the beginning +have been wise as to the selection of the horses. +</P> + +<P> +Fourth, you must know good horse-feed when you see it. Your animals +are depending entirely on the country; for of course you are carrying +no dry feed for them. Their pasturage will present itself under a +variety of aspects, all of which you must recognize with certainty. +Some of the greenest, lushest, most satisfying-looking meadows grow +nothing but water-grasses of large bulk but small nutrition; while +apparently barren tracts often conceal small but strong growths of +great value. You must differentiate these. +</P> + +<P> +Fifth, you must possess the ability to pare a hoof, fit a shoe cold, +nail it in place. A bare hoof does not last long on the granite, and +you are far from the nearest blacksmith. Directly in line with this, +you must have the trick of picking up and holding a hoof without being +kicked, and you must be able to throw and tie without injuring him any +horse that declines to be shod in any other way. +</P> + +<P> +Last, you must of course be able to pack a horse well, and must know +four or five of the most essential pack-"hitches." +</P> + +<P> +With this personal equipment you ought to be able to get through the +country. It comprises the absolutely essential. +</P> + +<P> +But further, for the sake of the highest efficiency, you should add, as +finish to your mountaineer's education, certain other items. A +knowledge of the habits of deer and the ability to catch trout with +fair certainty are almost a necessity when far from the base of +supplies. Occasionally the trail goes to pieces entirely: there you +must know something of the handling of an axe and pick. Learn how to +swim a horse. You will have to take lessons in camp-fire cookery. +Otherwise employ a guide. Of course your lungs, heart, and legs must +be in good condition. +</P> + +<P> +As to outfit, certain especial conditions will differentiate your needs +from those of forest and canoe travel. +</P> + +<P> +You will in the changing altitudes be exposed to greater variations in +temperature. At morning you may travel in the hot arid foot-hills; at +noon you will be in the cool shades of the big pines; towards evening +you may wallow through snowdrifts; and at dark you may camp where +morning will show you icicles hanging from the brinks of little +waterfalls. Behind your saddle you will want to carry a sweater, or +better still a buckskin waistcoat. Your arms are never cold anyway, +and the pockets of such a waistcoat, made many and deep, are handy +receptacles for smokables, matches, cartridges, and the like. For the +night-time, when the cold creeps down from the high peaks, you should +provide yourself with a suit of very heavy underwear and an extra +sweater or a buckskin shirt. The latter is lighter, softer, and more +impervious to the wind than the sweater. Here again I wish to place +myself on record as opposed to a coat. It is a useless ornament, +assumed but rarely, and then only as substitute for a handier garment. +</P> + +<P> +Inasmuch as you will be a great deal called on to handle abrading and +sometimes frozen ropes, you will want a pair of heavy buckskin +gauntlets. An extra pair of stout high-laced boots with small +Hungarian hob-nails will come handy. It is marvelous how quickly +leather wears out in the downhill friction of granite and shale. I +once found the heels of a new pair of shoes almost ground away by a +single giant-strides descent of a steep shale-covered +thirteen-thousand-foot mountain. Having no others I patched them with +hair-covered rawhide and a bit of horseshoe. It sufficed, but was a +long and disagreeable job which an extra pair would have obviated. +</P> + +<P> +Balsam is practically unknown in the high hills, and the rocks are +especially hard. Therefore you will take, in addition to your gray +army-blanket, a thick quilt or comforter to save your bones. This, +with your saddle-blankets and pads as foundation, should give you +ease—if you are tough. Otherwise take a second quilt. +</P> + +<P> +A tarpaulin of heavy canvas 17 x 6 feet goes under you, and can be, if +necessary, drawn up to cover your head. We never used a tent. Since +you do not have to pack your outfit on your own back, you can, if you +choose, include a small pillow. Your other personal belongings are +those you would carry into the Forest. I have elsewhere described what +they should be. +</P> + +<P> +Now as to the equipment for your horses. +</P> + +<P> +The most important point for yourself is your riding-saddle. The +cowboy or military style and seat are the only practicable ones. +Perhaps of these two the cowboy saddle is the better, for the simple +reason that often in roping or leading a refractory horse, the horn is +a great help. For steep-trail work the double cinch is preferable to +the single, as it need not be pulled so tight to hold the saddle in +place. +</P> + +<P> +Your riding-bridle you will make of an ordinary halter by riveting two +snaps to the lower part of the head-piece just above the corners of the +horse's mouth. These are snapped into the rings of the bit. At night +you unsnap the bit, remove it and the reins, and leave the halter part +on the horse. Each animal, riding and packing, has furthermore a short +lead-rope attached always to his halter-ring. +</P> + +<P> +Of pack-saddles the ordinary sawbuck tree is by all odds the best, +provided it fits. It rarely does. If you can adjust the wood +accurately to the anatomy of the individual horse, so that the side +pieces bear evenly and smoothly without gouging the withers or chafing +the back, you are possessed of the handiest machine made for the +purpose. Should individual fitting prove impracticable, get an old LOW +California riding-tree and have a blacksmith bolt an upright spike on +the cantle. You can hang the loops of the kyacks or alforjas—the +sacks slung on either side the horse—from the pommel and this iron +spike. Whatever the saddle chosen, it should be supplied with +breast-straps, breeching, and two good cinches. +</P> + +<P> +The kyacks or alforjas just mentioned are made either of heavy canvas, +or of rawhide shaped square and dried over boxes. After drying, the +boxes are removed, leaving the stiff rawhide like small trunks open at +the top. I prefer the canvas, for the reason that they can be folded +and packed for railroad transportation. If a stiffer receptacle is +wanted for miscellaneous loose small articles, you can insert a +soap-box inside the canvas. It cannot be denied that the rawhide will +stand rougher usage. +</P> + +<P> +Probably the point now of greatest importance is that of +saddle-padding. A sore back is the easiest thing in the world to +induce,—three hours' chafing will turn the trick,—and once it is done +you are in trouble for a month. No precautions or pains are too great +to take in assuring your pack-animals against this. On a pinch you +will give up cheerfully part of your bedding to the cause. However, +two good-quality woolen blankets properly and smoothly folded, a pad +made of two ordinary collar-pads sewed parallel by means of canvas +strips in such a manner as to lie along both sides of the backbone, a +well-fitted saddle, and care in packing will nearly always suffice. I +have gone months without having to doctor a single abrasion. +</P> + +<P> +You will furthermore want a pack-cinch and a pack-rope for each horse. +The former are of canvas or webbing provided with a ring at one end and +a big bolted wooden hook at the other. The latter should be half-inch +lines of good quality. Thirty-three feet is enough for packing only; +but we usually bought them forty feet long, so they could be used also +as picket-ropes. Do not fail to include several extra. They are +always fraying out, getting broken, being cut to free a fallen horse, +or becoming lost. +</P> + +<P> +Besides the picket-ropes, you will also provide for each horse a pair +of strong hobbles. Take them to a harness-maker and have him sew +inside each ankle-band a broad strip of soft wash-leather twice the +width of the band. This will save much chafing. Some advocate +sheepskin with the wool on, but this I have found tends to soak up +water or to freeze hard. At least two loud cow-bells with neck-straps +are handy to assist you in locating whither the bunch may have strayed +during the night. They should be hung on the loose horses most +inclined to wander. +</P> + +<P> +Accidents are common in the hills. The repair-kit is normally rather +comprehensive. Buy a number of extra latigos, or cinch-straps. +Include many copper rivets of all sizes—they are the best quick-repair +known for almost everything, from putting together a smashed +pack-saddle to cobbling a worn-out boot. Your horseshoeing outfit +should be complete with paring-knife, rasp, nail-set, clippers, hammer, +nails, and shoes. The latter will be the malleable soft iron, +low-calked "Goodenough," which can be fitted cold. Purchase a dozen +front shoes and a dozen and a half hind shoes. The latter wear out +faster on the trail. A box or so of hob-nails for your own boots, a +waxed end and awl, a whetstone, a file, and a piece of buckskin for +strings and patches complete the list. +</P> + +<P> +Thus equipped, with your grub supply, your cooking-utensils, your +personal effects, your rifle and your fishing-tackle, you should be +able to go anywhere that man and horses can go, entirely self-reliant, +independent of the towns. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +III +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ON HORSES +</H3> + +<P> +I really believe that you will find more variation of individual and +interesting character in a given number of Western horses than in an +equal number of the average men one meets on the street. Their whole +education, from the time they run loose on the range until the time +when, branded, corralled, broken, and saddled, they pick their way +under guidance over a bad piece of trail, tends to develop their +self-reliance. They learn to think for themselves. +</P> + +<P> +To begin with two misconceptions, merely by way of clearing the ground: +the Western horse is generally designated as a "bronco." The term is +considered synonymous of horse or pony. This is not so. A horse is +"bronco" when he is ugly or mean or vicious or unbroken. So is a cow +"bronco" in the same condition, or a mule, or a burro. Again, from +certain Western illustrators and from a few samples, our notion of the +cow-pony has become that of a lean, rangy, wiry, thin-necked, scrawny +beast. Such may be found. But the average good cow-pony is apt to be +an exceedingly handsome animal, clean-built, graceful. This is +natural, when you stop to think of it, for he is descended direct from +Moorish and Arabian stock. +</P> + +<P> +Certain characteristics he possesses beyond the capabilities of the +ordinary horse. The most marvelous to me of these is his +sure-footedness. Let me give you a few examples. +</P> + +<P> +I once was engaged with a crew of cowboys in rounding up mustangs in +southern Arizona. We would ride slowly in through the hills until we +caught sight of the herds. Then it was a case of running them down and +heading them off, of turning the herd, milling it, of rushing it while +confused across country and into the big corrals. The surface of the +ground was composed of angular volcanic rocks about the size of your +two fists, between which the bunch-grass sprouted. An Eastern rider +would ride his horse very gingerly and at a walk, and then thank his +lucky stars if he escaped stumbles. The cowboys turned their mounts +through at a dead run. It was beautiful to see the ponies go, lifting +their feet well up and over, planting them surely and firmly, and +nevertheless making speed and attending to the game. Once, when we had +pushed the herd up the slope of a butte, it made a break to get through +a little hog-back. The only way to head it was down a series of rough +boulder ledges laid over a great sheet of volcanic rock. The man at +the hog-back put his little gray over the ledges and boulders, down the +sheet of rock,—hop, slip, slide,—and along the side hill in time to +head off the first of the mustangs. During the ten days of riding I +saw no horse fall. The animal I rode, Button by name, never even +stumbled. +</P> + +<P> +In the Black Hills years ago I happened to be one of the inmates of a +small mining-camp. Each night the work-animals, after being fed, were +turned loose in the mountains. As I possessed the only cow-pony in the +outfit, he was fed in the corral, and kept up for the purpose of +rounding up the others. Every morning one of us used to ride him out +after the herd. Often it was necessary to run him at full speed along +the mountain-side, over rocks, boulders, and ledges, across ravines and +gullies. Never but once in three months did he fall. +</P> + +<P> +On the trail, too, they will perform feats little short of marvelous. +Mere steepness does not bother them at all. They sit back almost on +their haunches, bunch their feet together, and slide. I have seen them +go down a hundred feet this way. In rough country they place their +feet accurately and quickly, gauge exactly the proper balance. I have +led my saddle-horse, Bullet, over country where, undoubtedly to his +intense disgust, I myself have fallen a dozen times in the course of a +morning. Bullet had no such troubles. Any of the mountain horses will +hop cheerfully up or down ledges anywhere. They will even walk a log +fifteen or twenty feet above a stream. I have seen the same trick +performed in Barnum's circus as a wonderful feat, accompanied by brass +bands and breathlessness. We accomplished it on our trip with out any +brass bands; I cannot answer for the breathlessness. As for steadiness +of nerve, they will walk serenely on the edge of precipices a man would +hate to look over, and given a palm's breadth for the soles of their +feet, they will get through. Over such a place I should a lot rather +trust Bullet than myself. +</P> + +<P> +In an emergency the Western horse is not apt to lose his head. When a +pack-horse falls down, he lies still without struggle until eased of +his pack and told to get up. If he slips off an edge, he tries to +double his fore legs under him and slide. Should he find himself in a +tight place, he waits patiently for you to help him, and then proceeds +gingerly. A friend of mine rode a horse named Blue. One day, the +trail being slippery with rain, he slid and fell. My friend managed a +successful jump, but Blue tumbled about thirty feet to the bed of the +caņon. Fortunately he was not injured. After some difficulty my +friend managed to force his way through the chaparral to where Blue +stood. Then it was fine to see them. My friend would go ahead a few +feet, picking a route. When he had made his decision, he called Blue. +Blue came that far, and no farther. Several times the little horse +balanced painfully and unsteadily like a goat, all four feet on a +boulder, waiting for his signal to advance. In this manner they +regained the trail, and proceeded as though nothing had happened. +Instances could be multiplied indefinitely. +</P> + +<P> +A good animal adapts himself quickly. He is capable of learning by +experience. In a country entirely new to him he soon discovers the +best method of getting about, where the feed grows, where he can find +water. He is accustomed to foraging for himself. You do not need to +show him his pasturage. If there is anything to eat anywhere in the +district he will find it. Little tufts of bunch-grass growing +concealed under the edges of the brush, he will search out. If he +cannot get grass, he knows how to rustle for the browse of small +bushes. Bullet would devour sage-brush, when he could get nothing +else; and I have even known him philosophically to fill up on dry +pine-needles. There is no nutrition in dry pine-needles, but Bullet +got a satisfyingly full belly. On the trail a well-seasoned horse will +be always on the forage, snatching here a mouthful, yonder a single +spear of grass, and all without breaking the regularity of his gait, or +delaying the pack-train behind him. At the end of the day's travel he +is that much to the good. +</P> + +<P> +By long observation thus you will construct your ideal of the mountain +horse, and in your selection of your animals for an expedition you will +search always for that ideal. It is only too apt to be modified by +personal idiosyncrasies, and proverbially an ideal is difficult of +attainment; but you will, with care, come closer to its realization +than one accustomed only to the conventionality of an artificially +reared horse would believe possible. +</P> + +<P> +The ideal mountain horse, when you come to pick him out, is of medium +size. He should be not smaller than fourteen hands nor larger than +fifteen. He is strongly but not clumsily built, short-coupled, with +none of the snipy speedy range of the valley animal. You will select +preferably one of wide full forehead, indicating intelligence, low in +the withers, so the saddle will not be apt to gall him. His sureness +of foot should be beyond question, and of course he must be an expert +at foraging. A horse that knows but one or two kinds of feed, and that +starves unless he can find just those kinds, is an abomination. He +must not jump when you throw all kinds of rattling and terrifying +tarpaulins across him, and he must not mind if the pack-ropes fall +about his heels. In the day's march he must follow like a dog without +the necessity of a lead-rope, nor must he stray far when turned loose +at night. +</P> + +<P> +Fortunately, when removed from the reassuring environment of +civilization, horses are gregarious. They hate to be separated from the +bunch to which they are accustomed. Occasionally one of us would stop +on the trail, for some reason or another, thus dropping behind the +pack-train. Instantly the saddle-horse so detained would begin to grow +uneasy. Bullet used by all means in his power to try to induce me to +proceed. He would nibble me with his lips, paw the ground, dance in a +circle, and finally sidle up to me in the position of being mounted, +than which he could think of no stronger hint. Then when I had finally +remounted, it was hard to hold him in. He would whinny frantically, +scramble with enthusiasm up trails steep enough to draw a protest at +ordinary times, and rejoin his companions with every symptom of +gratification and delight. This gregariousness and alarm at being left +alone in a strange country tends to hold them together at night. You +are reasonably certain that in the morning, having found one, you will +come upon the rest not far away. +</P> + +<P> +The personnel of our own outfit we found most interesting. Although +collected from divergent localities they soon became acquainted. In a +crowded corral they were always compact in their organization, sticking +close together, and resisting as a solid phalanx encroachments on their +feed by other and stranger horses. Their internal organization was +very amusing. A certain segregation soon took place. Some became +leaders; others by common consent were relegated to the position of +subordinates. +</P> + +<P> +The order of precedence on the trail was rigidly preserved by the +pack-horses. An attempt by Buckshot to pass Dinkey, for example, the +latter always met with a bite or a kick by way of hint. If the gelding +still persisted, and tried to pass by a long detour, the mare would +rush out at him angrily, her ears back, her eyes flashing, her neck +extended. And since Buckshot was by no means inclined always to give +in meekly, we had opportunities for plenty of amusement. The two were +always skirmishing. When by a strategic short cut across the angle of a +trail Buckshot succeeded in stealing a march on Dinkey, while she was +nipping a mouthful, his triumph was beautiful to see. He never held +the place for long, however. Dinkey's was the leadership by force of +ambition and energetic character, and at the head of the pack-train she +normally marched. +</P> + +<P> +Yet there were hours when utter indifference seemed to fall on the +militant spirits. They trailed peacefully and amiably in the rear +while Lily or Jenny marched with pride in the coveted advance. But the +place was theirs only by sufferance. A bite or a kick sent them back +to their own positions when the true leaders grew tired of their +vacation. +</P> + +<P> +However rigid this order of precedence, the saddle-animals were +acknowledged as privileged;—and knew it. They could go where they +pleased. Furthermore theirs was the duty of correcting infractions of +the trail discipline, such as grazing on the march, or attempting +unauthorized short cuts. They appreciated this duty. Bullet always +became vastly indignant if one of the pack-horses misbehaved. He would +run at the offender angrily, hustle him to his place with savage nips +of his teeth, and drop back to his own position with a comical air of +virtue. Once in a great while it would happen that on my spurring up +from the rear of the column I would be mistaken for one of the +pack-horses attempting illegally to get ahead. Immediately Dinkey or +Buckshot would snake his head out crossly to turn me to the rear. It +was really ridiculous to see the expression of apology with which they +would take it all back, and the ostentatious, nose-elevated +indifference in Bullet's very gait as he marched haughtily by. So +rigid did all the animals hold this convention that actually in the San +Joaquin Valley Dinkey once attempted to head off a Southern Pacific +train. She ran at full speed diagonally toward it, her eyes striking +fire, her ears back, her teeth snapping in rage because the locomotive +would not keep its place behind her ladyship. +</P> + +<P> +Let me make you acquainted with our outfit. +</P> + +<P> +I rode, as you have gathered, an Arizona pony named Bullet. He was a +handsome fellow with a chestnut brown coat, long mane and tail, and a +beautiful pair of brown eyes. Wes always called him "Baby." He was in +fact the youngster of the party, with all the engaging qualities of +youth. I never saw a horse more willing. He wanted to do what you +wanted him to; it pleased him, and gave him a warm consciousness of +virtue which the least observant could not fail to remark. When +leading he walked industriously ahead, setting the pace; when +driving,—that is, closing up the rear,—he attended strictly to +business. Not for the most luscious bunch of grass that ever grew +would he pause even for an instant. Yet in his off hours, when I rode +irresponsibly somewhere in the middle, he was a great hand to forage. +Few choice morsels escaped him. He confided absolutely in his rider in +the matter of bad country, and would tackle anything I would put him +at. It seemed that he trusted me not to put him at anything that would +hurt him. This was an invaluable trait when an example had to be set +to the reluctance of the other horses. He was a great swimmer. +Probably the most winning quality of his nature was his extreme +friendliness. He was always wandering into camp to be petted, nibbling +me over with his lips, begging to have his forehead rubbed, thrusting +his nose under an elbow, and otherwise telling how much he thought of +us. Whoever broke him did a good job. I never rode a better-reined +horse. A mere indication of the bridle-hand turned him to right or +left, and a mere raising of the hand without the slightest pressure on +the bit stopped him short. And how well he understood cow-work! Turn +him loose after the bunch, and he would do the rest. All I had to do +was to stick to him. That in itself was no mean task, for he turned +like a flash, and was quick as a cat on his feet. At night I always +let him go foot free. He would be there in the morning, and I could +always walk directly up to him with the bridle in plain sight in my +hand. Even at a feedless camp we once made where we had shot a couple +of deer, he did not attempt to wander off in search of pasture, as +would most horses. He nosed around unsuccessfully until pitch dark, +then came into camp, and with great philosophy stood tail to the fire +until morning. I could always jump off anywhere for a shot, without +even the necessity of "tying him to the ground," by throwing the reins +over his head. He would wait for me, although he was never overfond of +firearms. +</P> + +<P> +Nevertheless Bullet had his own sense of dignity. He was literally as +gentle as a kitten, but he drew a line. I shall never forget how once, +being possessed of a desire to find out whether we could swim our +outfit across a certain stretch of the Merced River, I climbed him +bareback. He bucked me off so quickly that I never even got settled on +his back. Then he gazed at me with sorrow, while, laughing +irrepressibly at this unusual assertion of independent ideas, I picked +myself out of a wild-rose bush. He did not attempt to run away from +me, but stood to be saddled, and plunged boldly into the swift water +where I told him to. Merely he thought it disrespectful in me to ride +him without his proper harness. He was the pet of the camp. +</P> + +<P> +As near as I could make out, he had but one fault. He was altogether +too sensitive about his hind quarters, and would jump like a rabbit if +anything touched him there. +</P> + +<P> +Wes rode a horse we called Old Slob. Wes, be it premised, was an +interesting companion. He had done everything,—seal-hunting, +abalone-gathering, boar-hunting, all kinds of shooting, cow-punching in +the rough Coast Ranges, and all other queer and outlandish and +picturesque vocations by which a man can make a living. He weighed two +hundred and twelve pounds and was the best game shot with a rifle I +ever saw. +</P> + +<P> +As you may imagine, Old Slob was a stocky individual. He was built +from the ground up. His disposition was quiet, slow, honest. Above +all, he gave the impression of vast, very vast experience. Never did he +hurry his mental processes, although he was quick enough in his +movements if need arose. He quite declined to worry about anything. +Consequently, in spite of the fact that he carried by far the heaviest +man in the company, he stayed always fat and in good condition. There +was something almost pathetic in Old Slob's willingness to go on +working, even when more work seemed like an imposition. You could not +fail to fall in love with his mild inquiring gentle eyes, and his utter +trust in the goodness of human nature. His only fault was an excess of +caution. Old Slob was very very experienced. He knew all about +trails, and he declined to be hurried over what he considered a bad +place. Wes used sometimes to disagree with him as to what constituted +a bad place. "Some day you're going to take a tumble, you old fool," +Wes used to address him, "if you go on fiddling down steep rocks with +your little old monkey work. Why don't you step out?" Only Old Slob +never did take a tumble. He was willing to do anything for you, even +to the assuming of a pack. This is considered by a saddle-animal +distinctly as a come-down. +</P> + +<P> +The Tenderfoot, by the irony of fate, drew a tenderfoot horse. Tunemah +was a big fool gray that was constitutionally rattle-brained. He meant +well enough, but he didn't know anything. When he came to a bad place +in the trail, he took one good look—and rushed it. Constantly we +expected him to come to grief. It wore on the Tenderfoot's nerves. +Tunemah was always trying to wander off the trail, trying fool routes +of his own invention. If he were sent ahead to set the pace, he lagged +and loitered and constantly looked back, worried lest he get too far in +advance and so lose the bunch. If put at the rear, he fretted against +the bit, trying to push on at a senseless speed. In spite of his +extreme anxiety to stay with the train, he would once in a blue moon +get a strange idea of wandering off solitary through the mountains, +passing good feed, good water, good shelter. We would find him, after +a greater or less period of difficult tracking, perched in a silly +fashion on some elevation. Heaven knows what his idea was: it certainly +was neither search for feed, escape, return whence he came, nor desire +for exercise. When we came up with him, he would gaze mildly at us +from a foolish vacant eye and follow us peaceably back to camp. Like +most weak and silly people, he had occasional stubborn fits when you +could beat him to a pulp without persuading him. He was one of the +type already mentioned that knows but two or three kinds of feed. As +time went on he became thinner and thinner. The other horses +prospered, but Tunemah failed. He actually did not know enough to take +care of himself; and could not learn. Finally, when about two months +out, we traded him at a cow-camp for a little buckskin called Monache. +</P> + +<P> +So much for the saddle-horses. The pack-animals were four. +</P> + +<P> +A study of Dinkey's character and an experience of her characteristics +always left me with mingled feelings. At times I was inclined to think +her perfection: at other times thirty cents would have been esteemed by +me as a liberal offer for her. To enumerate her good points: she was +an excellent weight-carrier; took good care of her pack that it never +scraped nor bumped; knew all about trails, the possibilities of short +cuts, the best way of easing herself downhill; kept fat and healthy in +districts where grew next to no feed at all; was past-mistress in the +picking of routes through a trailless country. Her endurance was +marvelous; her intelligence equally so. In fact too great intelligence +perhaps accounted for most of her defects. She thought too much for +herself; she made up opinions about people; she speculated on just how +far each member of the party, man or beast, would stand imposition, and +tried conclusions with each to test the accuracy of her speculations; +she obstinately insisted on her own way in going up and down hill,—a +way well enough for Dinkey, perhaps, but hazardous to the other less +skillful animals who naturally would follow her lead. If she did +condescend to do things according to your ideas, it was with a mental +reservation. You caught her sardonic eye fixed on you contemptuously. +You felt at once that she knew another method, a much better method, +with which yours compared most unfavorably. "I'd like to kick you in +the stomach," Wes used to say; "you know too much for a horse!" +</P> + +<P> +If one of the horses bucked under the pack, Dinkey deliberately tried +to stampede the others—and generally succeeded. She invariably led +them off whenever she could escape her picket-rope. In case of trouble +of any sort, instead of standing still sensibly, she pretended to be +subject to wild-eyed panics. It was all pretense, for when you DID +yield to temptation and light into her with the toe of your boot, she +subsided into common sense. The spirit of malevolent mischief was hers. +</P> + +<P> +Her performances when she was being packed were ridiculously +histrionic. As soon as the saddle was cinched, she spread her legs +apart, bracing them firmly as though about to receive the weight of an +iron safe. Then as each article of the pack was thrown across her +back, she flinched and uttered the most heart-rending groans. We used +sometimes to amuse ourselves by adding merely an empty sack, or other +article quite without weight. The groans and tremblings of the braced +legs were quite as pitiful as though we had piled on a sack of flour. +Dinkey, I had forgotten to state, was a white horse, and belonged to +Wes. +</P> + +<P> +Jenny also was white and belonged to Wes. Her chief characteristic was +her devotion to Dinkey. She worshiped Dinkey, and seconded her +enthusiastically. Without near the originality of Dinkey, she was yet a +very good and sure pack-horse. The deceiving part about Jenny was her +eye. It was baleful with the spirit of evil,—snaky and black, and +with green sideways gleams in it. Catching the flash of it, you would +forever after avoid getting in range of her heels or teeth. But it was +all a delusion. Jenny's disposition was mild and harmless. +</P> + +<P> +The third member of the pack-outfit we bought at an auction sale in +rather a peculiar manner. About sixty head of Arizona horses of the C. +A. Bar outfit were being sold. Toward the close of the afternoon they +brought out a well-built stocky buckskin of first-rate appearance +except that his left flank was ornamented with five different brands. +The auctioneer called attention to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Here is a first-rate all-round horse," said he. "He is sound; will +ride, work, or pack; perfectly broken, mild, and gentle. He would make +a first-rate family horse, for he has a kind disposition." +</P> + +<P> +The official rider put a saddle on him to give him a demonstrating turn +around the track. Then that mild, gentle, perfectly broken family +horse of kind disposition gave about as pretty an exhibition of +barbed-wire bucking as you would want to see. Even the auctioneer had +to join in the wild shriek of delight that went up from the crowd. He +could not get a bid, and I bought the animal in later very cheaply. +</P> + +<P> +As I had suspected, the trouble turned out to be merely exuberance or +nervousness before a crowd. He bucked once with me under the saddle; +and twice subsequently under a pack,—that was all. Buckshot was the +best pack-horse we had. Bar an occasional saunter into the brush when +he got tired of the trail, we had no fault to find with him. He +carried a heavy pack, was as sure-footed as Bullet, as sagacious on the +trail as Dinkey, and he always attended strictly to his own business. +Moreover he knew that business thoroughly, knew what should be expected +of him, accomplished it well and quietly. His disposition was +dignified but lovable. As long as you treated him well, he was as +gentle as you could ask. But once let Buckshot get it into his head +that he was being imposed on, or once let him see that your temper had +betrayed you into striking him when he thought he did not deserve it, +and he cut loose vigorously and emphatically with his heels. He +declined to be abused. +</P> + +<P> +There remains but Lily. I don't know just how to do justice to +Lily—the "Lily maid." We named her that because she looked it. Her +color was a pure white, her eye was virginal and silly, her long bang +strayed in wanton carelessness across her face and eyes, her expression +was foolish, and her legs were long and rangy. She had the general +appearance of an overgrown school-girl too big for short dresses and +too young for long gowns;—a school-girl named Flossie, or Mamie, or +Lily. So we named her that. +</P> + +<P> +At first hers was the attitude of the timid and shrinking tenderfoot. +She stood in awe of her companions; she appreciated her lack of +experience. Humbly she took the rear; slavishly she copied the other +horses; closely she clung to camp. Then in a few weeks, like most +tenderfeet, she came to think that her short experience had taught her +everything there was to know. She put on airs. She became too cocky +and conceited for words. +</P> + +<P> +Everything she did was exaggerated, overdone. She assumed her pack with +an air that plainly said, "Just see what a good horse am I!" She +started out three seconds before the others in a manner intended to +shame their procrastinating ways. Invariably she was the last to rest, +and the first to start on again. She climbed over-vigorously, with the +manner of conscious rectitude. "Acts like she was trying to get her +wages raised," said Wes. +</P> + +<P> +In this manner she wore herself down. If permitted she would have +climbed until winded, and then would probably have fallen off somewhere +for lack of strength. Where the other horses watched the movements of +those ahead, in order that when a halt for rest was called they might +stop at an easy place on the trail, Lily would climb on until jammed +against the animal immediately preceding her. Thus often she found +herself forced to cling desperately to extremely bad footing until the +others were ready to proceed. Altogether she was a precious nuisance, +that acted busily but without thinking. +</P> + +<P> +Two virtues she did possess. She was a glutton for work; and she could +fall far and hard without injuring herself. This was lucky, for she +was always falling. Several times we went down to her fully expecting +to find her dead or so crippled that she would have to be shot. The +loss of a little skin was her only injury. She got to be quite +philosophic about it. On losing her balance she would tumble +peaceably, and then would lie back with an air of luxury, her eyes +closed, while we worked to free her. When we had loosened the pack, +Wes would twist her tail. Thereupon she would open one eye inquiringly +as though to say, "Hullo! Done already?" Then leisurely she would +arise and shake herself. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ON HOW TO GO ABOUT IT +</H3> + +<P> +One truth you must learn to accept, believe as a tenet of your faith, +and act upon always. It is that your entire welfare depends on the +condition of your horses. They must, as a consequence, receive always +your first consideration. As long as they have rest and food, you are +sure of getting along; as soon as they fail, you are reduced to +difficulties. So absolute is this truth that it has passed into an +idiom. When a Westerner wants to tell you that he lacks a thing, he +informs you he is "afoot" for it. "Give me a fill for my pipe," he +begs; "I'm plumb afoot for tobacco." +</P> + +<P> +Consequently you think last of your own comfort. In casting about for a +place to spend the night, you look out for good feed. That assured, +all else is of slight importance; you make the best of whatever camping +facilities may happen to be attached. If necessary you will sleep on +granite or in a marsh, walk a mile for firewood or water, if only your +animals are well provided for. And on the trail you often will work +twice as hard as they merely to save them a little. In whatever I may +tell you regarding practical expedients, keep this always in mind. +</P> + +<P> +As to the little details of your daily routine in the mountains, many +are worth setting down, however trivial they may seem. They mark the +difference between the greenhorn and the old-timer; but, more +important, they mark also the difference between the right and the +wrong, the efficient and the inefficient ways of doing things. +</P> + +<P> +In the morning the cook for the day is the first man afoot, usually +about half past four. He blows on his fingers, casts malevolent +glances at the sleepers, finally builds his fire and starts his meal. +Then he takes fiendish delight in kicking out the others. They do not +run with glad shouts to plunge into the nearest pool, as most camping +fiction would have us believe. Not they. The glad shout and nearest +pool can wait until noon when the sun is warm. They, too, blow on +their fingers and curse the cook for getting them up so early. All eat +breakfast and feel better. +</P> + +<P> +Now the cook smokes in lordly ease. One of the other men washes the +dishes, while his companion goes forth to drive in the horses. Washing +dishes is bad enough, but fumbling with frozen fingers at stubborn +hobble-buckles is worse. At camp the horses are caught, and each is +tied near his own saddle and pack. +</P> + +<P> +The saddle-horses are attended to first. Thus they are available for +business in case some of the others should make trouble. You will see +that your saddle-blankets are perfectly smooth, and so laid that the +edges are to the front where they are least likely to roll under or +wrinkle. After the saddle is in place, lift it slightly and loosen the +blanket along the back bone so it will not draw down tight under the +weight of the rider. Next hang your rifle-scabbard under your left +leg. It should be slanted along the horse's side at such an angle that +neither will the muzzle interfere with the animal's hind leg, nor the +butt with your bridle-hand. This angle must be determined by +experiment. The loop in front should be attached to the scabbard, so +it can be hung over the horn; that behind to the saddle, so the muzzle +can be thrust through it. When you come to try this method, you will +appreciate its handiness. Besides the rifle, you will carry also your +rope, camera, and a sweater or waistcoat for changes in temperature. +In your saddle bags are pipe and tobacco, perhaps a chunk of bread, +your note-book, and the map—if there is any. Thus your saddle-horse +is outfitted. Do not forget your collapsible rubber cup. About your +waist you will wear your cartridge-belt with six-shooter and +sheath-knife. I use a forty-five caliber belt. By threading a buck +skin thong in and out through some of the cartridge loops, their size +is sufficiently reduced to hold also the 30-40 rifle cartridges. Thus +I carry ammunition for both revolver and rifle in the one belt. The +belt should not be buckled tight about your waist, but should hang well +down on the hip. This is for two reasons. In the first place, it does +not drag so heavily at your anatomy, and falls naturally into position +when you are mounted. In the second place, you can jerk your gun out +more easily from a loose-hanging holster. Let your knife-sheath be so +deep as almost to cover the handle, and the knife of the very best +steel procurable. I like a thin blade. If you are a student of animal +anatomy, you can skin and quarter a deer with nothing heavier than a +pocket-knife. +</P> + +<P> +When you come to saddle the pack-horses, you must exercise even greater +care in getting the saddle-blankets smooth and the saddle in place. +There is some give and take to a rider; but a pack carries "dead," and +gives the poor animal the full handicap of its weight at all times. A +rider dismounts in bad or steep places; a pack stays on until the +morning's journey is ended. See to it, then, that it is on right. +</P> + +<P> +Each horse should have assigned him a definite and, as nearly as +possible, unvarying pack. Thus you will not have to search everywhere +for the things you need. +</P> + +<P> +For example, in our own case, Lily was known as the cook-horse. She +carried all the kitchen utensils, the fire-irons, the axe, and matches. +In addition her alforjas contained a number of little bags in which +were small quantities for immediate use of all the different sorts of +provisions we had with us. When we made camp we unpacked her near the +best place for a fire, and everything was ready for the cook. Jenny was +a sort of supply store, for she transported the main stock of the +provisions of which Lily's little bags contained samples. Dinkey +helped out Jenny, and in addition—since she took such good care of her +pack—was intrusted with the fishing-rods, the shot-gun, the +medicine-bag, small miscellaneous duffle, and whatever deer or bear +meat we happened to have. Buckshot's pack consisted of things not +often used, such as all the ammunition, the horse-shoeing outfit, +repair-kit, and the like. It was rarely disturbed at all. +</P> + +<P> +These various things were all stowed away in the kyacks or alforjas +which hung on either side. They had to be very accurately balanced. +The least difference in weight caused one side to sag, and that in turn +chafed the saddle-tree against the animal's withers. +</P> + +<P> +So far, so good. Next comes the affair of the top packs. Lay your +duffle-bags across the middle of the saddle. Spread the blankets and +quilts as evenly as possible. Cover all with the canvas tarpaulin +suitably folded. Everything is now ready for the pack-rope. +</P> + +<P> +The first thing anybody asks you when it is discovered that you know a +little something of pack-trains is, "Do you throw the Diamond Hitch?" +Now the Diamond is a pretty hitch and a firm one, but it is by no means +the fetish some people make of it. They would have you believe that it +represents the height of the packer's art; and once having mastered it, +they use it religiously for every weight, shape, and size of pack. The +truth of the matter is that the style of hitch should be varied +according to the use to which it is to be put. +</P> + +<P> +The Diamond is good because it holds firmly, is a great flattener, and +is especially adapted to the securing of square boxes. It is +celebrated because it is pretty and rather difficult to learn. Also it +possesses the advantage for single-handed packing that it can be thrown +slack throughout and then tightened, and that the last pull tightens +the whole hitch. However, for ordinary purposes, with a quiet horse +and a comparatively soft pack, the common Square Hitch holds well +enough and is quickly made. For a load of small articles and heavy +alforjas there is nothing like the Lone Packer. It too is a bit hard +to learn. Chiefly is it valuable because the last pulls draw the +alforjas away from the horse's sides, thus preventing their chafing +him. Of the many hitches that remain, you need learn, to complete your +list for all practical purposes, only the Bucking Hitch. It is +complicated, and takes time and patience to throw, but it is warranted +to hold your deck-load through the most violent storms bronco ingenuity +can stir up. +</P> + +<P> +These four will be enough. Learn to throw them, and take pains always +to throw them good and tight. A loose pack is the best expedient the +enemy of your soul could possibly devise. It always turns or comes to +pieces on the edge of things; and then you will spend the rest of the +morning trailing a wildly bucking horse by the burst and scattered +articles of camp duffle. It is furthermore your exhilarating task, +after you have caught him, to take stock, and spend most of the +afternoon looking for what your first search passed by. Wes and I once +hunted two hours for as large an object as a Dutch oven. After which +you can repack. This time you will snug things down. You should have +done so in the beginning. +</P> + +<P> +Next, the lead-ropes are made fast to the top of the packs. There is +here to be learned a certain knot. In case of trouble you can reach +from your saddle and jerk the whole thing free by a single pull on a +loose end. +</P> + +<P> +All is now ready. You take a last look around to see that nothing has +been left. One of the horsemen starts on ahead. The pack-horses swing +in behind. We soon accustomed ours to recognize the whistling of "Boots +and Saddles" as a signal for the advance. Another horseman brings up +the rear. The day's journey has begun. +</P> + +<P> +To one used to pleasure-riding the affair seems almost too deliberate. +The leader plods steadily, stopping from time to time to rest on the +steep slopes. The others string out in a leisurely procession. It does +no good to hurry. The horses will of their own accord stay in sight of +one another, and constant nagging to keep the rear closed up only +worries them without accomplishing any valuable result. In going +uphill especially, let the train take its time. Each animal is likely +to have his own ideas about when and where to rest. If he does, +respect them. See to it merely that there is no prolonged yielding to +the temptation of meadow feed, and no careless or malicious straying +off the trail. A minute's difference in the time of arrival does not +count. Remember that the horses are doing hard and continuous work on +a grass diet. +</P> + +<P> +The day's distance will not seem to amount to much in actual miles, +especially if, like most Californians, you are accustomed on a fresh +horse to make an occasional sixty or seventy between suns; but it ought +to suffice. There is a lot to be seen and enjoyed in a mountain mile. +Through the high country two miles an hour is a fair average rate of +speed, so you can readily calculate that fifteen make a pretty long +day. You will be afoot a good share of the time. If you were out from +home for only a few hours' jaunt, undoubtedly you would ride your horse +over places where in an extended trip you will prefer to lead him. It +is always a question of saving your animals. +</P> + +<P> +About ten o'clock you must begin to figure on water. No horse will +drink in the cool of the morning, and so, when the sun gets well up, he +will be thirsty. Arrange it. +</P> + +<P> +As to the method of travel, you can either stop at noon or push +straight on through. We usually arose about half past four; got under +way by seven; and then rode continuously until ready to make the next +camp. In the high country this meant until two or three in the +afternoon, by which time both we and the horses were pretty hungry. +But when we did make camp, the horses had until the following morning +to get rested and to graze, while we had all the remainder of the +afternoon to fish, hunt, or loaf. Sometimes, however, it was more +expedient to make a lunch-camp at noon. Then we allowed an hour for +grazing, and about half an hour to pack and unpack. It meant steady +work for ourselves. To unpack, turn out the horses, cook, wash dishes, +saddle up seven animals, and repack, kept us very busy. There remained +not much leisure to enjoy the scenery. It freshened the horses, +however, which was the main point. I should say the first method was +the better for ordinary journeys; and the latter for those times when, +to reach good feed, a forced march becomes necessary. +</P> + +<P> +On reaching the night's stopping-place, the cook for the day unpacks +the cook-horse and at once sets about the preparation of dinner. The +other two attend to the animals. And no matter how tired you are, or +how hungry you may be, you must take time to bathe their backs with +cold water; to stake the picket-animal where it will at once get good +feed and not tangle its rope in bushes, roots, or stumps; to hobble the +others; and to bell those inclined to wander. After this is done, it +is well, for the peace and well-being of the party, to take food. +</P> + +<P> +A smoke establishes you in the final and normal attitude of good humor. +Each man spreads his tarpaulin where he has claimed his bed. Said +claim is indicated by his hat thrown down where he wishes to sleep. It +is a mark of pre-emption which every one is bound to respect. Lay out +your saddle-blankets, cover them with your quilt, place the +sleeping-blanket on top, and fold over the tarpaulin to cover the +whole. At the head deposit your duffle-bag. Thus are you assured of a +pleasant night. +</P> + +<P> +About dusk you straggle in with trout or game. The camp-keeper lays +aside his mending or his repairing or his note-book, and stirs up the +cooking-fire. The smell of broiling and frying and boiling arises in +the air. By the dancing flame of the campfire you eat your third +dinner for the day—in the mountains all meals are dinners, and +formidable ones at that. The curtain of blackness draws down close. +Through it shine stars, loom mountains cold and mist-like in the moon. +You tell stories. You smoke pipes. After a time the pleasant chill +creeps down from the eternal snows. Some one throws another handful of +pine-cones on the fire. Sleepily you prepare for bed. The pine-cones +flare up, throwing their light in your eyes. You turn over and wrap +the soft woolen blanket close about your chin. You wink drowsily and +at once you are asleep. Along late in the night you awaken to find +your nose as cold as a dog's. You open one eye. A few coals mark +where the fire has been. The mist mountains have drawn nearer, they +seem to bend over you in silent contemplation. The moon is sailing +high in the heavens. +</P> + +<P> +With a sigh you draw the canvas tarpaulin over your head. Instantly it +is morning. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +V +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE COAST RANGES +</H3> + +<P> +At last, on the day appointed, we, with five horses, climbed the Cold +Spring Trail to the ridge; and then, instead of turning to the left, we +plunged down the zigzag lacets of the other side. That night we camped +at Mono Caņon, feeling ourselves strangely an integral part of the +relief map we had looked upon so many times that almost we had come to +consider its features as in miniature, not capacious for the +accommodation of life-sized men. Here we remained a day while we rode +the hills in search of Dinkey and Jenny, there pastured. +</P> + +<P> +We found Jenny peaceful and inclined to be corralled. But Dinkey, +followed by a slavishly adoring brindle mule, declined to be rounded +up. We chased her up hill and down; along creek-beds and through the +spiky chaparral. Always she dodged craftily, warily, with forethought. +Always the brindled mule, wrapt in admiration at his companion's +cleverness, crashed along after. Finally we teased her into a narrow +caņon. Wes and the Tenderfoot closed the upper end. I attempted to +slip by to the lower, but was discovered. Dinkey tore a frantic mile +down the side hill. Bullet, his nostrils wide, his ears back, raced +parallel in the boulder-strewn stream-bed, wonderful in his avoidance +of bad footing, precious in his selection of good, interested in the +game, indignant at the wayward Dinkey, profoundly contemptuous of the +besotted mule. At a bend in the caņon interposed a steep bank. Up +this we scrambled, dirt and stones flying. I had just time to bend low +along the saddle when, with the ripping and tearing and scratching of +thorns, we burst blindly through a thicket. In the open space on the +farther side Bullet stopped, panting but triumphant. Dinkey, +surrounded at last, turned back toward camp with an air of utmost +indifference. The mule dropped his long ears and followed. +</P> + +<P> +At camp we corralled Dinkey, but left her friend to shift for himself. +Then was lifted up his voice in mulish lamentations until, cursing, we +had to ride out bareback and drive him far into the hills and there +stone him into distant fear. Even as we departed up the trail the +following day the voice of his sorrow, diminishing like the echo of +grief, appealed uselessly to Dinkey's sympathy. For Dinkey, once +captured, seemed to have shrugged her shoulders and accepted inevitable +toil with a real though cynical philosophy. +</P> + +<P> +The trail rose gradually by imperceptible gradations and occasional +climbs. We journeyed in the great caņons. High chaparral flanked the +trail, occasional wide gray stretches of "old man" filled the air with +its pungent odor and with the calls of its quail. The crannies of the +rocks, the stretches of wide loose shale, the crumbling bottom earth +offered to the eye the dessicated beauties of creamy yucca, of yerba +buena, of the gaudy red paint-brushes, the Spanish bayonet; and to the +nostrils the hot dry perfumes of the semi-arid lands. The air was +tepid; the sun hot. A sing-song of bees and locusts and strange insects +lulled the mind. The ponies plodded on cheerfully. We expanded and +basked and slung our legs over the pommels of our saddles and were glad +we had come. +</P> + +<P> +At no time did we seem to be climbing mountains. Rather we wound in and +out, round and about, through a labyrinth of valleys and caņons and +ravines, farther and farther into a mysterious shut-in country that +seemed to have no end. Once in a while, to be sure, we zigzagged up a +trifling ascent; but it was nothing. And then at a certain point the +Tenderfoot happened to look back. +</P> + +<P> +"Well!" he gasped; "will you look at that!" +</P> + +<P> +We turned. Through a long straight aisle which chance had placed just +there, we saw far in the distance a sheer slate-colored wall; and +beyond, still farther in the distance, overtopping the slate-colored +wall by a narrow strip, another wall of light azure blue. +</P> + +<P> +"It's our mountains," said Wes, "and that blue ridge is the channel +islands. We've got up higher than our range." +</P> + +<P> +We looked about us, and tried to realize that we were actually more +than halfway up the formidable ridge we had so often speculated on from +the Cold Spring Trail. But it was impossible. In a few moments, +however, our broad easy caņon narrowed. Huge crags and sheer masses of +rock hemmed us in. The chaparral and yucca and yerba buena gave place +to pine-trees and mountain oaks, with little close clumps of +cottonwoods in the stream bottom. The brook narrowed and leaped, and +the white of alkali faded from its banks. We began to climb in good +earnest, pausing often for breath. The view opened. We looked back on +whence we had come, and saw again, from the reverse, the forty miles of +ranges and valleys we had viewed from the Ridge Trail. +</P> + +<P> +At this point we stopped to shoot a rattlesnake. Dinkey and Jenny took +the opportunity to push ahead. From time to time we would catch sight +of them traveling earnestly on, following the trail accurately, +stopping at stated intervals to rest, doing their work, conducting +themselves as decorously as though drivers had stood over them with +blacksnake whips. We tried a little to catch up. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind," said Wes, "they've been over this trail before. They'll +stop when they get to where we're going to camp." +</P> + +<P> +We halted a moment on the ridge to look back over the lesser mountains +and the distant ridge, beyond which the islands now showed plainly. +Then we dropped down behind the divide into a cup valley containing a +little meadow with running water on two sides of it and big pines +above. The meadow was brown, to be sure, as all typical California is +at this time of year. But the brown of California and the brown of the +East are two different things. Here is no snow or rain to mat down the +grass, to suck out of it the vital principles. It grows ripe and sweet +and soft, rich with the life that has not drained away, covering the +hills and valleys with the effect of beaver fur, so that it seems the +great round-backed hills must have in a strange manner the yielding +flesh-elasticity of living creatures. The brown of California is the +brown of ripeness; not of decay. +</P> + +<P> +Our little meadow was beautifully named Madulce,[1] and was just below +the highest point of this section of the Coast Range. The air drank +fresh with the cool of elevation. We went out to shoot supper; and so +found ourselves on a little knoll fronting the brown-hazed east. As we +stood there, enjoying the breeze after our climb, a great wave of hot +air swept by us, filling our lungs with heat, scorching our faces as +the breath of a furnace. Thus was brought to our minds what, in the +excitement of a new country, we had forgotten,—that we were at last on +the eastern slope, and that before us waited the Inferno of the desert. +</P> + +<P> +That evening we lay in the sweet ripe grasses of Madulce, and talked of +it. Wes had been across it once before and did not possess much +optimism with which to comfort us. +</P> + +<P> +"It's hot, just plain hot," said he, "and that's all there is about it. +And there's mighty little water, and what there is is sickish and a +long ways apart. And the sun is strong enough to roast potatoes in." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not travel at night?" we asked. +</P> + +<P> +"No place to sleep under daytimes," explained Wes. "It's better to +keep traveling and then get a chance for a little sleep in the cool of +the night." +</P> + +<P> +We saw the reasonableness of that. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course we'll start early, and take a long nooning, and travel late. +We won't get such a lot of sleep." +</P> + +<P> +"How long is it going to take us?" +</P> + +<P> +Wes calculated. +</P> + +<P> +"About eight days," he said soberly. +</P> + +<P> +The next morning we descended from Madulce abruptly by a dirt trail, +almost perpendicular until we slid into a caņon of sage-brush and +quail, of mescale cactus and the fierce dry heat of sun-baked shale. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it any hotter than this on the desert?" we inquired. +</P> + +<P> +Wes looked on us with pity. +</P> + +<P> +"This is plumb arctic," said he. +</P> + +<P> +Near noon we came to a little cattle ranch situated in a flat +surrounded by red dikes and buttes after the manner of Arizona. Here +we unpacked, early as it was, for through the dry countries one has to +apportion his day's journeys by the water to be had. If we went +farther to-day, then to-morrow night would find us in a dry camp. +</P> + +<P> +The horses scampered down the flat to search out alfilaria. We roosted +under a slanting shed,—where were stock saddles, silver-mounted bits +and spurs, rawhide riatas, branding-irons, and all the lumber of the +cattle business,—and hung out our tongues and gasped for breath and +earnestly desired the sun to go down or a breeze to come up. The +breeze shortly did so. It was a hot breeze, and availed merely to +cover us with dust, to swirl the stable-yard into our faces. Great +swarms of flies buzzed and lit and stung. Wes, disgusted, went over to +where a solitary cowpuncher was engaged in shoeing a horse. Shortly we +saw Wes pressed into service to hold the horse's hoof. He raised a +pathetic face to us, the big round drops chasing each other down it as +fast as rain. We grinned and felt better. +</P> + +<P> +The fierce perpendicular rays of the sun beat down. The air under the +shed grew stuffier and more oppressive, but it was the only patch of +shade in all that pink and red furnace of a little valley. The +Tenderfoot discovered a pair of horse-clippers, and, becoming slightly +foolish with the heat, insisted on our barbering his head. We told him +it was cooler with hair than without; and that the flies and sun would +be offered thus a beautiful opportunity, but without avail. So we +clipped him,—leaving, however, a beautiful long scalp-lock in the +middle of his crown. He looked like High-low-kickapoo-waterpot, chief +of the Wam-wams. After a while he discovered it, and was unhappy. +</P> + +<P> +Shortly the riders began to come in, jingling up to the shed, with a +rattle of spurs and bit-chains. There they unsaddled their horses, +after which, with great unanimity, they soused their heads in the +horse-trough. The chief, a six-footer, wearing beautifully decorated +gauntlets and a pair of white buckskin chaps, went so far as to say it +was a little warm for the time of year. In the freshness of evening, +when frazzled nerves had regained their steadiness, he returned to +smoke and yarn with us and tell us of the peculiarities of the cattle +business in the Cuyamas. At present he and his men were riding the +great mountains, driving the cattle to the lowlands in anticipation of +a rodeo the following week. A rodeo under that sun! +</P> + +<P> +We slept in the ranch vehicles, so the air could get under us. While +the stars still shone, we crawled out, tired and unrefreshed. The +Tenderfoot and I went down the valley after the horses. While we +looked, the dull pallid gray of dawn filtered into the darkness, and so +we saw our animals, out of proportion, monstrous in the half light of +that earliest morning. Before the range riders were even astir we had +taken up our journey, filching thus a few hours from the inimical sun. +</P> + +<P> +Until ten o'clock we traveled in the valley of the Cuyamas. The river +was merely a broad sand and stone bed, although undoubtedly there was +water below the surface. California rivers are said to flow bottom up. +To the northward were mountains typical of the arid countries,—boldly +defined, clear in the edges of their folds, with sharp shadows and +hard, uncompromising surfaces. They looked brittle and hollow, as +though made of papier mache and set down in the landscape. A long four +hours' noon we spent beneath a live-oak near a tiny spring. I tried to +hunt, but had to give it up. After that I lay on my back and shot +doves as they came to drink at the spring. It was better than walking +about, and quite as effective as regards supper. A band of cattle +filed stolidly in, drank, and filed as stolidly away. Some half-wild +horses came to the edge of the hill, stamped, snorted, essayed a +tentative advance. Them we drove away, lest they decoy our own +animals. The flies would not let us sleep. Dozens of valley and +mountain quail called with maddening cheerfulness and energy. By a +mighty exercise of will we got under way again. In an hour we rode out +into what seemed to be a grassy foot-hill country, supplied with a most +refreshing breeze. +</P> + +<P> +The little round hills of a few hundred feet rolled gently away to the +artificial horizon made by their closing in. The trail meandered white +and distinct through the clear fur-like brown of their grasses. Cattle +grazed. Here and there grew live-oaks, planted singly as in a park. +Beyond we could imagine the great plain, grading insensibly into these +little hills. +</P> + +<P> +And then all at once we surmounted a slight elevation, and found that +we had been traveling on a plateau, and that these apparent little +hills were in reality the peaks of high mountains. +</P> + +<P> +We stood on the brink of a wide smooth velvet-creased range that dipped +down and down to miniature caņons far below. Not a single little +boulder broke the rounded uniformity of the wild grasses. Out from +beneath us crept the plain, sluggish and inert with heat. +</P> + +<P> +Threads of trails, dull white patches of alkali, vague brown areas of +brush, showed indeterminate for a little distance. But only for a +little distance. Almost at once they grew dim, faded in the thickness +of atmosphere, lost themselves in the mantle of heat that lay palpable +and brown like a shimmering changing veil, hiding the distance in +mystery and in dread. It was a land apart; a land to be looked on +curiously from the vantage-ground of safety,—as we were looking on it +from the shoulder of the mountain,—and then to be turned away from, to +be left waiting behind its brown veil for what might come. To abandon +the high country, deliberately to cut loose from the known, +deliberately to seek the presence that lay in wait,—all at once it +seemed the height of grotesque perversity. We wanted to turn on our +heels. We wanted to get back to our hills and fresh breezes and clear +water, to our beloved cheerful quail, to our trails and the sweet upper +air. +</P> + +<P> +For perhaps a quarter of an hour we sat our horses, gazing down. Some +unknown disturbance lazily rifted the brown veil by ever so little. We +saw, lying inert and languid, obscured by its own rank steam, a great +round lake. We knew the water to be bitter, poisonous. The veil drew +together again. Wes shook himself and sighed, "There she is,—damn +her!" said he. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] In all Spanish names the final e should be pronounced. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE INFERNO +</H3> + +<P> +For eight days we did penance, checking off the hours, meeting doggedly +one after another the disagreeable things. We were bathed in heat; we +inhaled it; it soaked into us until we seemed to radiate it like so +many furnaces. A condition of thirst became the normal condition, to +be only slightly mitigated by a few mouthfuls from zinc canteens of +tepid water. Food had no attractions: even smoking did not taste good. +Always the flat country stretched out before us. We could see far +ahead a landmark which we would reach only by a morning's travel. +Nothing intervened between us and it. After we had looked at it a +while, we became possessed of an almost insane necessity to make a run +for it. The slow maddening three miles an hour of the pack-train drove +us frantic. There were times when it seemed that unless we shifted our +gait, unless we stepped outside the slow strain of patience to which +the Inferno held us relentlessly, we should lose our minds and run +round and round in circles—as people often do, in the desert. +</P> + +<P> +And when the last and most formidable hundred yards had slunk sullenly +behind us to insignificance, and we had dared let our minds relax from +the insistent need of self-control—then, beyond the cotton-woods, or +creek-bed, or group of buildings, whichever it might be, we made out +another, remote as paradise, to which we must gain by sunset. So again +the wagon-trail, with its white choking dust, its staggering sun, its +miles made up of monotonous inches, each clutching for a man's sanity. +</P> + +<P> +We sang everything we knew; we told stories; we rode cross-saddle, +sidewise, erect, slouching; we walked and led our horses; we shook the +powder of years from old worn jokes, conundrums, and puzzles,—and at +the end, in spite of our best efforts, we fell to morose silence and +the red-eyed vindictive contemplation of the objective point that would +not seem to come nearer. +</P> + +<P> +For now we lost accurate sense of time. At first it had been merely a +question of going in at one side of eight days, pressing through them, +and coming out on the other side. Then the eight days would be behind +us. But once we had entered that enchanted period, we found ourselves +more deeply involved. The seemingly limited area spread with startling +swiftness to the very horizon. Abruptly it was borne in on us that +this was never going to end; just as now for the first time we realized +that it had begun infinite ages ago. We were caught in the +entanglement of days. The Coast Ranges were the experiences of a past +incarnation: the Mountains were a myth. +</P> + +<P> +Nothing was real but this; and this would endure forever. We plodded +on because somehow it was part of the great plan that we should do so. +Not that it did any good:—we had long since given up such ideas. The +illusion was very real; perhaps it was the anodyne mercifully +administered to those who pass through the Inferno. +</P> + +<P> +Most of the time we got on well enough. One day, only, the Desert +showed her power. That day, at five of the afternoon, it was one +hundred and twenty degrees in the shade. And we, through necessity of +reaching the next water, journeyed over the alkali at noon. Then the +Desert came close on us and looked us fair in the eyes, concealing +nothing. She killed poor Deuce, the beautiful setter who had traveled +the wild countries so long; she struck Wes and the Tenderfoot from +their horses when finally they had reached a long-legged water tank; +she even staggered the horses themselves. And I, lying under a bush +where I had stayed after the others in the hope of succoring Deuce, +began idly shooting at ghostly jack-rabbits that looked real, but +through which the revolver bullets passed without resistance. +</P> + +<P> +After this day the Tenderfoot went water-crazy. Watering the horses +became almost a mania with him. He could not bear to pass even a +mud-hole without offering the astonished Tunemah a chance to fill up, +even though that animal had drunk freely not twenty rods back. As for +himself, he embraced every opportunity; and journeyed draped in many +canteens. +</P> + +<P> +After that it was not so bad. The thermometer stood from a hundred to +a hundred and five or six, to be sure, but we were getting used to it. +Discomfort, ordinary physical discomfort, we came to accept as the +normal environment of man. It is astonishing how soon uniformly +uncomfortable conditions, by very lack of contrast, do lose their power +to color the habit of mind. I imagine merely physical unhappiness is a +matter more of contrasts than of actual circumstances. We swallowed +dust; we humped our shoulders philosophically under the beating of the +sun, we breathed the debris of high winds; we cooked anyhow, ate +anything, spent long idle fly-infested hours waiting for the noon to +pass; we slept in horse-corrals, in the trail, in the dust, behind +stables, in hay, anywhere. There was little water, less wood for the +cooking. +</P> + +<P> +It is now all confused, an impression of events with out sequence, a +mass of little prominent purposeless things like rock conglomerate. I +remember leaning my elbows on a low window-ledge and watching a poker +game going on in the room of a dive. The light came from a sickly +suspended lamp. It fell on five players,—two miners in their +shirt-sleeves, a Mexican, a tough youth with side-tilted derby hat, and +a fat gorgeously dressed Chinaman. The men held their cards close to +their bodies, and wagered in silence. Slowly and regularly the great +drops of sweat gathered on their faces. As regularly they raised the +backs of their hands to wipe them away. Only the Chinaman, +broad-faced, calm, impassive as Buddha, save for a little crafty smile +in one corner of his eye, seemed utterly unaffected by the heat, cool +as autumn. His loose sleeve fell back from his forearm when he moved +his hand forward, laying his bets. A jade bracelet slipped back and +forth as smoothly as on yellow ivory. +</P> + +<P> +Or again, one night when the plain was like a sea of liquid black, and +the sky blazed with stars, we rode by a sheep-herder's camp. The +flicker of a fire threw a glow out into the dark. A tall wagon, a +group of silhouetted men, three or four squatting dogs, were squarely +within the circle of illumination. And outside, in the penumbra of +shifting half light, now showing clearly, now fading into darkness, +were the sheep, indeterminate in bulk, melting away by mysterious +thousands into the mass of night. We passed them. They looked up, +squinting their eyes against the dazzle of their fire. The night +closed about us again. +</P> + +<P> +Or still another: in the glare of broad noon, after a hot and trying +day, a little inn kept by a French couple. And there, in the very +middle of the Inferno, was served to us on clean scrubbed tables, a +meal such as one gets in rural France, all complete, with the potage, +the fish fried in oil, the wonderful ragout, the chicken and salad, the +cheese and the black coffee, even the vin ordinaire. I have forgotten +the name of the place, its location on the map, the name of its +people,—one has little to do with detail in the Inferno,—but that +dinner never will I forget, any more than the Tenderfoot will forget +his first sight of water the day when the Desert "held us up." +</P> + +<P> +Once the brown veil lifted to the eastward. We, souls struggling, saw +great mountains and the whiteness of eternal snow. That noon we +crossed a river, hurrying down through the flat plain, and in its +current came the body of a drowned bear-cub, an alien from the high +country. +</P> + +<P> +These things should have been as signs to our jaded spirits that we +were nearly at the end of our penance, but discipline had seared over +our souls, and we rode on unknowing. +</P> + +<P> +Then we came on a real indication. It did not amount to much. Merely +a dry river-bed; but the farther bank, instead of being flat, cut into +a low swell of land. We skirted it. Another swell of land, like the +sullen after-heave of a storm, lay in our way. Then we crossed a +ravine. It was not much of a ravine; in fact it was more like a slight +gouge in the flatness of the country. After that we began to see +oak-trees, scattered at rare intervals. So interested were we in them +that we did not notice rocks beginning to outcrop through the soil +until they had become numerous enough to be a feature of the landscape. +The hills, gently, quietly, without abrupt transition, almost as though +they feared to awaken our alarm by too abrupt movement of growth, +glided from little swells to bigger swells. The oaks gathered closer +together. The ravine's brother could almost be called a caņon. The +character of the country had entirely changed. +</P> + +<P> +And yet, so gradually had this change come about that we did not awaken +to a full realization of our escape. To us it was still the plain, a +trifle modified by local peculiarity, but presently to resume its +wonted aspect. We plodded on dully, anodyned with the desert patience. +</P> + +<P> +But at a little before noon, as we rounded the cheek of a slope, we +encountered an errant current of air. It came up to us curiously, +touched us each in turn, and went on. The warm furnace heat drew in on +us again. But it had been a cool little current of air, with something +of the sweetness of pines and water and snow-banks in it. The +Tenderfoot suddenly reined in his horse and looked about him. +</P> + +<P> +"Boys!" he cried, a new ring of joy in his voice, "we're in the +foot-hills!" +</P> + +<P> +Wes calculated rapidly. "It's the eighth day to-day: I guessed right +on the time." +</P> + +<P> +We stretched our arms and looked about us. They were dry brown hills +enough; but they were hills, and they had trees on them, and caņons in +them, so to our eyes, wearied with flatness, they seemed wonderful. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE FOOT-HILLS +</H3> + +<P> +At once our spirits rose. We straightened in our saddles, we breathed +deep, we joked. The country was scorched and sterile; the wagon-trail, +almost paralleling the mountains themselves on a long easy slant toward +the high country, was ankle-deep in dust; the ravines were still dry of +water. But it was not the Inferno, and that one fact sufficed. After +a while we crossed high above a river which dashed white water against +black rocks, and so were happy. +</P> + +<P> +The country went on changing. The change was always imperceptible, as +is growth, or the stealthy advance of autumn through the woods. From +moment to moment one could detect no alteration. Something intangible +was taken away; something impalpable added. At the end of an hour we +were in the oaks and sycamores; at the end of two we were in the pines +and low mountains of Bret Harte's Forty-Nine. +</P> + +<P> +The wagon-trail felt ever farther and farther into the hills. It had +not been used as a stage-route for years, but the freighting kept it +deep with dust, that writhed and twisted and crawled lazily knee-high +to our horses, like a living creature. We felt the swing and sweep of +the route. The boldness of its stretches, the freedom of its reaches +for the opposite slope, the wide curve of its horseshoes, all filled us +with the breath of an expansion which as yet the broad low country only +suggested. +</P> + +<P> +Everything here was reminiscent of long ago. The very names hinted +stories of the Argonauts. Coarse Gold Gulch, Whiskey Creek, Grub +Gulch, Fine Gold Post-Office in turn we passed. Occasionally, with a +fine round dash into the open, the trail drew one side to a +stage-station. The huge stables, the wide corrals, the low +living-houses, each shut in its dooryard of blazing riotous flowers, +were all familiar. Only lacked the old-fashioned Concord coach, from +which to descend Jack Hamlin or Judge Starbottle. As for M'liss, she +was there, sunbonnet and all. +</P> + +<P> +Down in the gulch bottoms were the old placer diggings. Elaborate +little ditches for the deflection of water, long cradles for the +separation of gold, decayed rockers, and shining in the sun the tons +and tons of pay dirt which had been turned over pound by pound in the +concentrating of its treasure. Some of the old cabins still stood. It +was all deserted now, save for the few who kept trail for the +freighters, or who tilled the restricted bottom-lands of the flats. +Road-runners racked away down the paths; squirrels scurried over +worn-out placers; jays screamed and chattered in and out of the +abandoned cabins. Strange and shy little creatures and birds, +reassured by the silence of many years, had ventured to take to +themselves the engines of man's industry. And the warm California sun +embalmed it all in a peaceful forgetfulness. +</P> + +<P> +Now the trees grew bigger, and the hills more impressive. We should +call them mountains in the East. Pines covered them to the top, +straight slender pines with voices. The little flats were planted with +great oaks. When we rode through them, they shut out the hills, so +that we might have imagined ourselves in the level wooded country. +There insisted the effect of limitless tree-grown plains, which the +warm drowsy sun, the park-like landscape, corroborated. And yet the +contrast of the clear atmosphere and the sharp air equally insisted on +the mountains. It was a strange and delicious double effect, a +contradiction of natural impressions, a negation of our right to +generalize from previous experience. +</P> + +<P> +Always the trail wound up and up. Never was it steep; never did it +command an outlook. Yet we felt that at last we were rising, were +leaving the level of the Inferno, were nearing the threshold of the +high country. +</P> + +<P> +Mountain peoples came to the edges of their clearings and gazed at us, +responding solemnly to our salutations. They dwelt in cabins and held +to agriculture and the herding of the wild mountain cattle. From them +we heard of the high country to which we were bound. They spoke of it +as you or I would speak of interior Africa, as something inconceivably +remote, to be visited only by the adventurous, an uninhabited realm of +vast magnitude and unknown dangers. In the same way they spoke of the +plains. Only the narrow pine-clad strip between the two and six +thousand feet of elevation they felt to be their natural environment. +In it they found the proper conditions for their existence. Out of it +those conditions lacked. They were as much a localized product as are +certain plants which occur only at certain altitudes. Also were they +densely ignorant of trails and routes outside of their own little +districts. +</P> + +<P> +All this, you will understand, was in what is known as the low country. +The landscape was still brown; the streams but trickles; sage-brush +clung to the ravines; the valley quail whistled on the side hills. +</P> + +<P> +But one day we came suddenly into the big pines and rocks; and that +very night we made our first camp in a meadow typical of the mountains +we had dreamed about. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE PINES +</H3> + +<P> +I do not know exactly how to make you feel the charm of that first camp +in the big country. Certainly I can never quite repeat it in my own +experience. +</P> + +<P> +Remember that for two months we had grown accustomed to the brown of +the California landscape, and that for over a week we had traveled in +the Inferno. We had forgotten the look of green grass, of abundant +water; almost had we forgotten the taste of cool air. So invariably +had the trails been dusty, and the camping-places hard and exposed, +that we had come subconsciously to think of such as typical of the +country. Try to put yourself in the frame of mind those conditions +would make. +</P> + +<P> +Then imagine yourself climbing in an hour or so up into a high ridge +country of broad cup-like sweeps and bold outcropping ledges. Imagine +a forest of pine-trees bigger than any pines you ever saw +before,—pines eight and ten feet through, so huge that you can hardly +look over one of their prostrate trunks even from the back of your +pony. Imagine, further, singing little streams of ice-cold water, deep +refreshing shadows, a soft carpet of pine-needles through which the +faint furrow of the trail runs as over velvet. And then, last of all, +in a wide opening, clear as though chopped and plowed by some +back-woodsman, a park of grass, fresh grass, green as a precious stone. +</P> + +<P> +This was our first sight of the mountain meadows. From time to time we +found others, sometimes a half dozen in a day. The rough country came +down close about them, edging to the very hair-line of the magic +circle, which seemed to assure their placid sunny peace. An upheaval +of splintered granite often tossed and tumbled in the abandon of an +unrestrained passion that seemed irresistibly to overwhelm the sanities +of a whole region; but somewhere, in the very forefront of turmoil, was +like to slumber one of these little meadows, as unconscious of anything +but its own flawless green simplicity as a child asleep in mid-ocean. +Or, away up in the snows, warmed by the fortuity of reflected heat, its +emerald eye looked bravely out to the heavens. Or, as here, it rested +confidingly in the very heart of the austere forest. +</P> + +<P> +Always these parks are green; always are they clear and open. Their +size varies widely. Some are as little as a city lawn; others, like +the great Monache,[1] are miles in extent. In them resides the +possibility of your traveling the high country; for they supply the +feed for your horses. +</P> + +<P> +Being desert-weary, the Tenderfoot and I cried out with the joy of it, +and told in extravagant language how this was the best camp we had ever +made. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a bum camp," growled Wes. "If we couldn't get better camps than +this, I'd quit the game." +</P> + +<P> +He expatiated on the fact that this particular meadow was somewhat +boggy; that the feed was too watery; that there'd be a cold wind down +through the pines; and other small and minor details. But we, our +backs propped against appropriately slanted rocks, our pipes well +aglow, gazed down the twilight through the wonderful great columns of +the trees to where the white horses shone like snow against the +unaccustomed relief of green, and laughed him to scorn. What did +we—or the horses for that matter—care for trifling discomforts of the +body? In these intangible comforts of the eye was a great refreshment +of the spirit. +</P> + +<P> +The following day we rode through the pine forests growing on the +ridges and hills and in the elevated bowl-like hollows. These were not +the so-called "big trees,"—with those we had to do later, as you shall +see. They were merely sugar and yellow pines, but never anywhere have +I seen finer specimens. They were planted with a grand sumptuousness of +space, and their trunks were from five to twelve feet in diameter and +upwards of two hundred feet high to the topmost spear. Underbrush, +ground growth, even saplings of the same species lacked entirely, so +that we proceeded in the clear open aisles of a tremendous and spacious +magnificence. +</P> + +<P> +This very lack of the smaller and usual growths, the generous plan of +spacing, and the size of the trees themselves necessarily deprived us +of a standard of comparison. At first the forest seemed immense. But +after a little our eyes became accustomed to its proportions. We +referred it back to the measures of long experience. The trees, the +wood-aisles, the extent of vision shrunk to the normal proportions of +an Eastern pinery. And then we would lower our gaze. The pack-train +would come into view. It had become lilliputian, the horses small as +white mice, the men like tin soldiers, as though we had undergone an +enchantment. But in a moment, with the rush of a mighty +transformation, the great trees would tower huge again. +</P> + +<P> +In the pine woods of the mountains grows also a certain close-clipped +parasitic moss. In color it is a brilliant yellow-green, more yellow +than green. In shape it is crinkly and curly and tangled up with +itself like very fine shavings. In consistency it is dry and brittle. +This moss girdles the trunks of trees with innumerable parallel +inch-wide bands a foot or so apart, in the manner of old-fashioned +striped stockings. It covers entirely sundry twigless branches. Always +in appearance is it fantastic, decorative, almost Japanese, as though +consciously laid in with its vivid yellow-green as an intentional note +of a tone scheme. The somberest shadows, the most neutral twilights, +the most austere recesses are lighted by it as though so many freakish +sunbeams had severed relations with the parent luminary to rest quietly +in the coolnesses of the ancient forest. +</P> + +<P> +Underfoot the pine-needles were springy beneath the horse's hoof. The +trail went softly, with the courtesy of great gentleness. Occasionally +we caught sight of other ridges,—also with pines,—across deep sloping +valleys, pine filled. The effect of the distant trees seen from above +was that of roughened velvet, here smooth and shining, there dark with +rich shadows. On these slopes played the wind. In the level countries +it sang through the forest progressively: here on the slope it struck a +thousand trees at once. The air was ennobled with the great voice, as +a church is ennobled by the tones of a great organ. Then we would drop +back again to the inner country, for our way did not contemplate the +descents nor climbs, but held to the general level of a plateau. +</P> + +<P> +Clear fresh brooks ran in every ravine. Their water was snow-white +against the black rocks; or lay dark in bank-shadowed pools. As our +horses splashed across we could glimpse the rainbow trout flashing to +cover. Where the watered hollows grew lush were thickets full of +birds, outposts of the aggressively and cheerfully worldly in this +pine-land of spiritual detachment. Gorgeous bush-flowers, great of +petal as magnolias, with perfume that lay on the air like a heavy +drowsiness; long clear stretches of an ankle-high shrub of vivid +emerald, looking in the distance like sloping meadows of a peculiar +color-brilliance; patches of smaller flowers where for the trifling +space of a street's width the sun had unobstructed fall,—these from +time to time diversified the way, brought to our perceptions the +endearing trifles of earthiness, of humanity, befittingly to modify the +austerity of the great forest. At a brookside we saw, still fresh and +moist, the print of a bear's foot. From a patch of the little emerald +brush, a barren doe rose to her feet, eyed us a moment, and then +bounded away as though propelled by springs. We saw her from time to +time surmounting little elevations farther and farther away. +</P> + +<P> +The air was like cold water. We had not lung capacity to satisfy our +desire for it. There came with it a dry exhilaration that brought high +spirits, an optimistic viewpoint, and a tremendous keen appetite. It +seemed that we could never tire. In fact we never did. Sometimes, +after a particularly hard day, we felt like resting; but it was always +after the day's work was done, never while it was under way. The +Tenderfoot and I one day went afoot twenty-two miles up and down a +mountain fourteen thousand feet high. The last three thousand feet +were nearly straight up and down. We finished at a four-mile clip an +hour before sunset, and discussed what to do next to fill in the time. +When we sat down, we found we had had about enough; but we had not +discovered it before. +</P> + +<P> +All of us, even the morose and cynical Dinkey, felt the benefit of the +change from the lower country. Here we were definitely in the +Mountains. Our plateau ran from six to eight thousand feet in +altitude. Beyond it occasionally we could see three more ridges, +rising and falling, each higher than the last. And then, in the blue +distance, the very crest of the broad system called the +Sierras,—another wide region of sheer granite rising in peaks, +pinnacles, and minarets, rugged, wonderful, capped with the eternal +snows. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] Do not fail to sound the final e. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE TRAIL +</H3> + +<P> +When you say "trail" to a Westerner, his eye lights up. This is +because it means something to him. To another it may mean something +entirely different, for the blessed word is of that rare and beautiful +category which is at once of the widest significance and the most +intimate privacy to him who utters it. To your mind leaps the picture +of the dim forest-aisles and the murmurings of tree-top breezes; to him +comes a vision of the wide dusty desert; to me, perhaps, a high wild +country of wonder. To all of us it is the slender, unbroken, +never-ending thread connecting experiences. +</P> + +<P> +For in a mysterious way, not to be understood, our trails never do end. +They stop sometimes, and wait patiently while we dive in and out of +houses, but always when we are ready to go on, they are ready too, and +so take up the journey placidly as though nothing had intervened. They +begin, when? Sometime, away in the past, you may remember a single +episode, vivid through the mists of extreme youth. Once a very little +boy walked with his father under a green roof of leaves that seemed +farther than the sky and as unbroken. All of a sudden the man raised +his gun and fired upwards, apparently through the green roof. A pause +ensued. Then, hurtling roughly through still that same green roof, a +great bird fell, hitting the earth with a thump. The very little boy +was I. My trail must have begun there under the bright green roof of +leaves. +</P> + +<P> +From that earliest moment the Trail unrolls behind you like a thread so +that never do you quite lose connection with your selves. There is +something a little fearful to the imaginative in the insistence of it. +You may camp, you may linger, but some time or another, sooner or +later, you must go on, and when you do, then once again the Trail takes +up its continuity without reference to the muddied place you have +tramped out in your indecision or indolence or obstinacy or necessity. +It would be exceedingly curious to follow out in patience the chart of +a man's going, tracing the pattern of his steps with all its windings +of nursery, playground, boys afield, country, city, plain, forest, +mountain, wilderness, home, always on and on into the higher country of +responsibility until at the last it leaves us at the summit of the +Great Divide. Such a pattern would tell his story as surely as do the +tracks of a partridge on the snow. +</P> + +<P> +A certain magic inheres in the very name, or at least so it seems to +me. I should be interested to know whether others feel the same +glamour that I do in the contemplation of such syllables as the Lo-Lo +Trail, the Tunemah Trail, the Mono Trail, the Bright Angel Trail. A +certain elasticity of application too leaves room for the more +connotation. A trail may be almost anything. There are wagon-trails +which East would rank as macadam roads; horse-trails that would compare +favorably with our best bridle-paths; foot-trails in the fur country +worn by constant use as smooth as so many garden-walks. Then again +there are other arrangements. I have heard a mule-driver overwhelmed +with skeptical derision because he claimed to have upset but six times +in traversing a certain bit of trail not over five miles long; in +charts of the mountains are marked many trails which are only "ways +through,"—you will find few traces of predecessors; the same can be +said of trails in the great forests where even an Indian is sometimes +at fault. "Johnny, you're lost," accused the white man. "Trail lost: +Injun here," denied the red man. And so after your experience has led +you by the campfires of a thousand delights, and each of those +campfires is on the Trail, which only pauses courteously for your stay +and then leads on untiring into new mysteries forever and ever, you +come to love it as the donor of great joys. You too become a +Westerner, and when somebody says "trail," your eye too lights up. +</P> + +<P> +The general impression of any particular trail is born rather of the +little incidents than of the big accidents. The latter are exotic, and +might belong to any time or places; the former are individual. For the +Trail is a vantage-ground, and from it, as your day's travel unrolls, +you see many things. Nine tenths of your experience comes thus, for in +the long journeys the side excursions are few enough and unimportant +enough almost to merit classification with the accidents. In time the +character of the Trail thus defines itself. +</P> + +<P> +Most of all, naturally, the kind of country has to do with this +generalized impression. Certain surprises, through trees, of vista +looking out over unexpected spaces; little notches in the hills beyond +which you gain to a placid far country sleeping under a sun warmer than +your elevation permits; the delicious excitement of the moment when you +approach the very knife-edge of the summit and wonder what lies +beyond,—these are the things you remember with a warm heart. Your +saddle is a point of vantage. By it you are elevated above the +country; from it you can see clearly. Quail scuttle away to right and +left, heads ducked low; grouse boom solemnly on the rigid limbs of +pines; deer vanish through distant thickets to appear on yet more +distant ridges, thence to gaze curiously, their great ears forward; +across the caņon the bushes sway violently with the passage of a +cinnamon bear among them,—you see them all from your post of +observation. Your senses are always alert for these things; you are +always bending from your saddle to examine the tracks and signs that +continually offer themselves for your inspection and interpretation. +</P> + +<P> +Our trail of this summer led at a general high elevation, with +comparatively little climbing and comparatively easy traveling for days +at a time. Then suddenly we would find ourselves on the brink of a +great box caņon from three to seven thousand feet deep, several miles +wide, and utterly precipitous. In the bottom of this caņon would be +good feed, fine groves of trees, and a river of some size in which swam +fish. The trail to the caņon-bed was always bad, and generally +dangerous. In many instances we found it bordered with the bones of +horses that had failed. The river had somehow to be forded. We would +camp a day or so in the good feed and among the fine groves of trees, +fish in the river, and then address ourselves with much reluctance to +the ascent of the other bad and dangerous trail on the other side. +After that, in the natural course of events, subject to variation, we +could expect nice trails, the comfort of easy travel, pines, cedars, +redwoods, and joy of life until another great cleft opened before us or +another great mountain-pass barred our way. +</P> + +<P> +This was the web and woof of our summer. But through it ran the +patterns of fantastic delight such as the West alone can offer a man's +utter disbelief in them. Some of these patterns stand out in memory +with peculiar distinctness. +</P> + +<P> +Below Farewell Gap is a wide caņon with high walls of dark rock, and +down those walls run many streams of water. They are white as snow +with the dash of their descent, but so distant that the eye cannot +distinguish their motion. In the half light of dawn, with the yellow +of sunrise behind the mountains, they look like gauze streamers thrown +out from the windows of morning to celebrate the solemn pageant of the +passing of many hills. +</P> + +<P> +Again, I know of a caņon whose westerly wall is colored in the dull +rich colors, the fantastic patterns of a Moorish tapestry. Umber, seal +brown, red, terra-cotta, orange, Nile green, emerald, purple, cobalt +blue, gray, lilac, and many other colors, all rich with the depth of +satin, glow wonderful as the craftiest textures. Only here the fabric +is five miles long and half a mile wide. +</P> + +<P> +There is no use in telling of these things. They, and many others of +their like, are marvels, and exist; but you cannot tell about them, for +the simple reason that the average reader concludes at once you must be +exaggerating, must be carried away by the swing of words. The cold +sober truth is, you cannot exaggerate. They haven't made the words. +Talk as extravagantly as you wish to one who will in the most childlike +manner believe every syllable you utter. Then take him into the Big +Country. He will probably say, "Why, you didn't tell me it was going +to be anything like THIS!" We in the East have no standards of +comparison either as regards size or as regards color—especially +color. Some people once directed me to "The Gorge" on the New England +coast. I couldn't find it. They led me to it, and rhapsodized over +its magnificent terror. I could have ridden a horse into the +ridiculous thing. As for color, no Easterner believes in it when such +men as Lungren or Parrish transposit it faithfully, any more than a +Westerner would believe in the autumn foliage of our own hardwoods, or +an Englishman in the glories of our gaudiest sunsets. They are all +true. +</P> + +<P> +In the mountains, the high mountains above the seven or eight thousand +foot level, grows an affair called the snow-plant. It is, when full +grown, about two feet in height, and shaped like a loosely constructed +pine-cone set up on end. Its entire substance is like wax, and the +whole concern—stalk, broad curling leaves, and all—is a brilliant +scarlet. Sometime you will ride through the twilight of deep pine woods +growing on the slope of the mountain, a twilight intensified, rendered +more sacred to your mood by the external brilliancy of a glimpse of +vivid blue sky above dazzling snow mountains far away. Then, in this +monotone of dark green frond and dull brown trunk and deep olive +shadow, where, like the ordered library of one with quiet tastes, +nothing breaks the harmony of unobtrusive tone, suddenly flames the +vivid red of a snow-plant. You will never forget it. +</P> + +<P> +Flowers in general seem to possess this concentrated brilliancy both of +color and of perfume. You will ride into and out of strata of perfume +as sharply defined as are the quartz strata on the ridges. They lie +sluggish and cloying in the hollows, too heavy to rise on the wings of +the air. +</P> + +<P> +As for color, you will see all sorts of queer things. The ordered +flower-science of your childhood has gone mad. You recognize some of +your old friends, but strangely distorted and changed,—even the dear +old "butter 'n eggs" has turned pink! Patches of purple, of red, of +blue, of yellow, of orange are laid in the hollows or on the slopes +like brilliant blankets out to dry in the sun. The fine grasses are +spangled with them, so that in the cup of the great fierce countries +the meadows seem like beautiful green ornaments enameled with jewels. +The Mariposa Lily, on the other hand, is a poppy-shaped flower varying +from white to purple, and with each petal decorated by an "eye" exactly +like those on the great Cecropia or Polyphemus moths, so that their +effect is that of a flock of gorgeous butterflies come to rest. They +hover over the meadows poised. A movement would startle them to +flight; only the proper movement somehow never comes. +</P> + +<P> +The great redwoods, too, add to the colored-edition impression of the +whole country. A redwood, as perhaps you know, is a tremendous big +tree sometimes as big as twenty feet in diameter. It is exquisitely +proportioned like a fluted column of noble height. Its bark is +slightly furrowed longitudinally, and of a peculiar elastic appearance +that lends it an almost perfect illusion of breathing animal life. The +color is a rich umber red. Sometimes in the early morning or the late +afternoon, when all the rest of the forest is cast in shadow, these +massive trunks will glow as though incandescent. The Trail, wonderful +always, here seems to pass through the outer portals of the great +flaming regions where dwell the risings and fallings of days. +</P> + +<P> +As you follow the Trail up, you will enter also the permanent +dwelling-places of the seasons. With us each visits for the space of a +few months, then steals away to give place to the next. Whither they +go you have not known until you have traveled the high mountains. +Summer lives in the valley; that you know. Then a little higher you +are in the spring-time, even in August. Melting patches of snow linger +under the heavy firs; the earth is soggy with half-absorbed snow-water, +trickling with exotic little rills that do not belong; grasses of the +year before float like drowned hair in pellucid pools with an air of +permanence, except for the one fact; fresh green things are sprouting +bravely; through bare branches trickles a shower of bursting buds, +larger at the top, as though the Sower had in passing scattered them +from above. Birds of extraordinary cheerfulness sing merrily to new +and doubtful flowers. The air tastes cold, but the sun is warm. The +great spring humming and promise is in the air. And a few thousand +feet higher you wallow over the surface of drifts while a winter wind +searches your bones. I used to think that Santa Claus dwelt at the +North Pole. Now I am convinced that he has a workshop somewhere among +the great mountains where dwell the Seasons, and that his reindeer paw +for grazing in the alpine meadows below the highest peaks. +</P> + +<P> +Here the birds migrate up and down instead of south and north. It must +be a great saving of trouble to them, and undoubtedly those who have +discovered it maintain toward the unenlightened the same delighted and +fraternal secrecy with which you and I guard the knowledge of a good +trout-stream. When you can migrate adequately in a single day, why +spend a month at it? +</P> + +<P> +Also do I remember certain spruce woods with openings where the sun +shone through. The shadows were very black, the sunlight very white. +As I looked back I could see the pack-horses alternately suffer eclipse +and illumination in a strange flickering manner good to behold. The +dust of the trail eddied and billowed lazily in the sun, each mote +flashing as though with life; then abruptly as it crossed the sharp +line of shade it disappeared. +</P> + +<P> +From these spruce woods, level as a floor, we came out on the rounded +shoulder of a mountain to find ourselves nearly nine thousand feet +above the sea. Below us was a deep caņon to the middle of the earth. +And spread in a semicircle about the curve of our mountain a most +magnificent panoramic view. First there were the plains, represented by +a brown haze of heat; then, very remote, the foot-hills, the +brush-hills, the pine mountains, the upper timber, the tremendous +granite peaks, and finally the barrier of the main crest with its +glittering snow. From the plains to that crest was over seventy miles. +I should not dare say how far we could see down the length of the +range; nor even how distant was the other wall of the caņon over which +we rode. Certainly it was many miles; and to reach the latter point +consumed three days. +</P> + +<P> +It is useless to multiply instances. The principle is well enough +established by these. Whatever impression of your trail you carry away +will come from the little common occurrences of every day. That is +true of all trails; and equally so, it seems to me, of our Trail of +Life sketched at the beginning of this essay. +</P> + +<P> +But the trail of the mountains means more than wonder; it means hard +work. Unless you stick to the beaten path, where the freighters have +lost so many mules that they have finally decided to fix things up a +bit, you are due for lots of trouble. Bad places will come to be a +nightmare with you and a topic of conversation with whomever you may +meet. We once enjoyed the company of a prospector three days while he +made up his mind to tackle a certain bit of trail we had just +descended. Our accounts did not encourage him. Every morning he used +to squint up at the cliff which rose some four thousand feet above us. +"Boys," he said finally as he started, "I may drop in on you later in +the morning." I am happy to say he did not. +</P> + +<P> +The most discouraging to the tenderfoot, but in reality the safest of +all bad trails, is the one that skirts a precipice. Your horse +possesses a laudable desire to spare your inside leg unnecessary +abrasion, so he walks on the extreme outer edge. If you watch the +performance of the animal ahead, you will observe that every few +moments his outer hind hoof slips off that edge, knocking little stones +down into the abyss. Then you conclude that sundry slight jars you have +been experiencing are from the same cause. Your peace of mind deserts +you. You stare straight ahead, sit VERY light indeed, and perhaps turn +the least bit sick. The horse, however, does not mind, nor will you, +after a little. There is absolutely nothing to do but to sit steady +and give your animal his head. In a fairly extended experience I never +got off the edge but once. Then somebody shot a gun immediately ahead; +my horse tried to turn around, slipped, and slid backwards until he +overhung the chasm. Fortunately his hind feet caught a tiny bush. He +gave a mighty heave, and regained the trail. Afterwards I took a look +and found that there were no more bushes for a hundred feet either way. +</P> + +<P> +Next in terror to the unaccustomed is an ascent by lacets up a very +steep side hill. The effect is cumulative. Each turn brings you one +stage higher, adds definitely one more unit to the test of your +hardihood. This last has not terrified you; how about the next? or the +next? or the one after that? There is not the slightest danger. You +appreciate this point after you have met head-on some old-timer. After +you have speculated frantically how you are to pass him, he solves the +problem by calmly turning his horse off the edge and sliding to the +next lacet below. Then you see that with a mountain horse it does not +much matter whether you get off such a trail or not. +</P> + +<P> +The real bad places are quite as likely to be on the level as on the +slant. The tremendous granite slides, where the cliff has avalanched +thousands of tons of loose jagged rock-fragments across the passage, +are the worst. There your horse has to be a goat in balance. He must +pick his way from the top of one fragment to the other, and if he slips +into the interstices he probably breaks a leg. In some parts of the +granite country are also smooth rock aprons where footing is especially +difficult, and where often a slip on them means a toboggan chute off +into space. I know of one spot where such an apron curves off the +shoulder of the mountain. Your horse slides directly down it until his +hoofs encounter a little crevice. Checking at this, he turns sharp to +the left and so off to the good trail again. If he does not check at +the little crevice, he slides on over the curve of the shoulder and +lands too far down to bury. +</P> + +<P> +Loose rocks in numbers on a very steep and narrow trail are always an +abomination, and a numerous abomination at that. A horse slides, +skates, slithers. It has always seemed to me that luck must count +largely in such a place. When the animal treads on a loose round +stone—as he does every step of the way—that stone is going to roll +under him, and he is going to catch himself as the nature of that stone +and the little gods of chance may will. Only furthermore I have +noticed that the really good horse keeps his feet, and the poor one +tumbles. A judgmatical rider can help a great deal by the delicacy of +his riding and the skill with which he uses his reins. Or better +still, get off and walk. +</P> + +<P> +Another mean combination, especially on a slant, is six inches of snow +over loose stones or small boulders. There you hope for divine favor +and flounder ahead. There is one compensation; the snow is soft to +fall on. Boggy areas you must be able to gauge the depth of at a +glance. And there are places, beautiful to behold, where a horse +clambers up the least bit of an ascent, hits his pack against a +projection, and is hurled into outer space. You must recognize these, +for he will be busy with his feet. +</P> + +<P> +Some of the mountain rivers furnish pleasing afternoons of sport. They +are deep and swift, and below the ford are rapids. If there is a +fallen tree of any sort across them,—remember the length of California +trees, and do not despise the rivers,—you would better unpack, carry +your goods across yourself, and swim the pack-horses. If the current +is very bad, you can splice riatas, hitch one end to the horse and the +other to a tree on the farther side, and start the combination. The +animal is bound to swing across somehow. Generally you can drive them +over loose. In swimming a horse from the saddle, start him well +upstream to allow for the current, and never, never, never attempt to +guide him by the bit. The Tenderfoot tried that at Mono Creek and +nearly drowned himself and Old Slob. You would better let him alone, +as he probably knows more than you do. If you must guide him, do it by +hitting the side of his head with the flat of your hand. +</P> + +<P> +Sometimes it is better that you swim. You can perform that feat by +clinging to his mane on the downstream side, but it will be easier both +for you and him if you hang to his tail. Take my word for it, he will +not kick you. +</P> + +<P> +Once in a blue moon you may be able to cross the whole outfit on logs. +Such a log bridge spanned Granite Creek near the North Fork of the San +Joaquin at an elevation of about seven thousand feet. It was suspended +a good twenty feet above the water, which boiled white in a most +disconcerting manner through a gorge of rocks. If anything fell off +that log it would be of no further value even to the curiosity seeker. +We got over all the horses save Tunemah. He refused to consider it, +nor did peaceful argument win. As he was more or less of a fool, we +did not take this as a reflection on our judgment, but culled cedar +clubs. We beat him until we were ashamed. Then we put a slip-noose +about his neck. The Tenderfoot and I stood on the log and heaved while +Wes stood on the shore and pushed. Suddenly it occurred to me that if +Tunemah made up his silly mind to come, he would probably do it all at +once, in which case the Tenderfoot and I would have about as much show +for life as fossil formations. I didn't say anything about it to the +Tenderfoot, but I hitched my six-shooter around to the front, resolved +to find out how good I was at wing-shooting horses. But Tunemah +declared he would die for his convictions. "All right," said we, "die +then," with the embellishment of profanity. So we stripped him naked, +and stoned him into the raging stream, where he had one chance in three +of coming through alive. He might as well be dead as on the other side +of that stream. He won through, however, and now I believe he'd tackle +a tight rope. +</P> + +<P> +Of such is the Trail, of such its wonders, its pleasures, its little +comforts, its annoyances, its dangers. And when you are forced to draw +your six-shooter to end mercifully the life of an animal that has +served you faithfully, but that has fallen victim to the leg-breaking +hazard of the way, then you know a little of its tragedy also. May you +never know the greater tragedy when a man's life goes out, and you +unable to help! May always your trail lead through fine trees, green +grasses, fragrant flowers, and pleasant waters! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +X +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ON SEEING DEER +</H3> + +<P> +Once I happened to be sitting out a dance with a tactful young girl of +tender disposition who thought she should adapt her conversation to the +one with whom she happened to be talking. Therefore she asked +questions concerning out-of-doors. She knew nothing whatever about it, +but she gave a very good imitation of one interested. For some occult +reason people never seem to expect me to own evening clothes, or to +know how to dance, or to be able to talk about anything civilized; in +fact, most of them appear disappointed that I do not pull off a war-jig +in the middle of the drawing-room. +</P> + +<P> +This young girl selected deer as her topic. She mentioned liquid eyes, +beautiful form, slender ears; she said "cute," and "darlings," and +"perfect dears." Then she shuddered prettily. +</P> + +<P> +"And I don't see how you can ever BEAR to shoot them, Mr. White," she +concluded. +</P> + +<P> +"You quarter the onions and slice them very thin," said I dreamily. +"Then you take a little bacon fat you had left over from the flap-jacks +and put it in the frying-pan. The frying-pan should be very hot. While +the onions are frying, you must keep turning them over with a fork. +It's rather difficult to get them all browned without burning some. I +should broil the meat. A broiler is handy, but two willows, peeled and +charred a little so the willow taste won't penetrate the meat, will do. +Have the steak fairly thick. Pepper and salt it thoroughly. Sear it +well at first in order to keep the juices in; then cook rather slowly. +When it is done, put it on a hot plate and pour the browned onions, +bacon fat and all, over it." +</P> + +<P> +"What ARE you talking about?" she interrupted. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm telling you why I can bear to shoot deer," said I. +</P> + +<P> +"But I don't see—" said she. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you?" said I. "Well; suppose you've been climbing a mountain +late in the afternoon when the sun is on the other side of it. It is a +mountain of big boulders, loose little stones, thorny bushes. The +slightest misstep would send pebbles rattling, brush rustling; but you +have gone all the way without making that misstep. This is quite a +feat. It means that you've known all about every footstep you've +taken. That would be business enough for most people, wouldn't it? +But in addition you've managed to see EVERYTHING on that side of the +mountain—especially patches of brown. You've seen lots of patches of +brown, and you've examined each one of them. Besides that, you've +heard lots of little rustlings, and you've identified each one of them. +To do all these things well keys your nerves to a high tension, doesn't +it? And then near the top you look up from your last noiseless step to +see in the brush a very dim patch of brown. If you hadn't been looking +so hard, you surely wouldn't have made it out. Perhaps, if you're not +humble-minded, you may reflect that most people wouldn't have seen it +at all. You whistle once sharply. The patch of brown defines itself. +Your heart gives one big jump. You know that you have but the briefest +moment, the tiniest fraction of time, to hold the white bead of your +rifle motionless and to press the trigger. It has to be done VERY +steadily, at that distance,—and you out of breath, with your nerves +keyed high in the tension of such caution." +</P> + +<P> +"NOW what are you talking about?" she broke in helplessly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, didn't I mention it?" I asked, surprised. "I was telling you why I +could bear to shoot deer." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but—" she began. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course not," I reassured her. "After all, it's very simple. The +reason I can bear to kill deer is because, to kill deer, you must +accomplish a skillful elimination of the obvious." +</P> + +<P> +My young lady was evidently afraid of being considered stupid; and also +convinced of her inability to understand what I was driving at. So she +temporized in the manner of society. +</P> + +<P> +"I see," she said, with an air of complete enlightenment. +</P> + +<P> +Now of course she did not see. Nobody could see the force of that last +remark without the grace of further explanation, and yet in the +elimination of the obvious rests the whole secret of seeing deer in the +woods. +</P> + +<P> +In traveling the trail you will notice two things: that a tenderfoot +will habitually contemplate the horn of his saddle or the trail a few +yards ahead of his horse's nose, with occasionally a look about at the +landscape; and the old-timer will be constantly searching the prospect +with keen understanding eyes. Now in the occasional glances the +tenderfoot takes, his perceptions have room for just so many +impressions. When the number is filled out he sees nothing more. +Naturally the obvious features of the landscape supply the basis for +these impressions. He sees the configuration of the mountains, the +nature of their covering, the course of their ravines, first of all. +Then if he looks more closely, there catches his eye an odd-shaped +rock, a burned black stub, a flowering bush, or some such matter. +Anything less striking in its appeal to the attention actually has not +room for its recognition. In other words, supposing that a man has the +natural ability to receive x visual impressions, the tenderfoot fills +out his full capacity with the striking features of his surroundings. +To be able to see anything more obscure in form or color, he must +naturally put aside from his attention some one or another of these +obvious features. He can, for example, look for a particular kind of +flower on a side hill only by refusing to see other kinds. +</P> + +<P> +If this is plain, then, go one step further in the logic of that +reasoning. Put yourself in the mental attitude of a man looking for +deer. His eye sweeps rapidly over a side hill; so rapidly that you +cannot understand how he can have gathered the main features of that +hill, let alone concentrate and refine his attention to the seeing of +an animal under a bush. As a matter of fact he pays no attention to the +main features. He has trained his eye, not so much to see things, as +to leave things out. The odd-shaped rock, the charred stub, the bright +flowering bush do not exist for him. His eye passes over them as +unseeing as yours over the patch of brown or gray that represents his +quarry. His attention stops on the unusual, just as does yours; only +in his case the unusual is not the obvious. He has succeeded by long +training in eliminating that. Therefore he sees deer where you do not. +As soon as you can forget the naturally obvious and construct an +artificially obvious, then you too will see deer. +</P> + +<P> +These animals are strangely invisible to the untrained eye even when +they are standing "in plain sight." You can look straight at them, and +not see them at all. Then some old woodsman lets you sight over his +finger exactly to the spot. At once the figure of the deer fairly +leaps into vision. I know of no more perfect example of the +instantaneous than this. You are filled with astonishment that you +could for a moment have avoided seeing it. And yet next time you will +in all probability repeat just this "puzzle picture" experience. +</P> + +<P> +The Tenderfoot tried for six weeks before he caught sight of one. He +wanted to very much. Time and again one or the other of us would hiss +back, "See the deer! over there by the yellow bush!" but before he +could bring the deliberation of his scrutiny to the point of +identification, the deer would be gone. Once a fawn jumped fairly +within ten feet of the pack-horses and went bounding away through the +bushes, and that fawn he could not help seeing. We tried +conscientiously enough to get him a shot; but the Tenderfoot was unable +to move through the brush less majestically than a Pullman car, so we +had ended by becoming apathetic on the subject. +</P> + +<P> +Finally, while descending a very abrupt mountain-side I made out a buck +lying down perhaps three hundred feet directly below us. The buck was +not looking our way, so I had time to call the Tenderfoot. He came. +With difficulty and by using my rifle-barrel as a pointer I managed to +show him the animal. Immediately he began to pant as though at the +finish of a mile race, and his rifle, when he leveled it, covered a +good half acre of ground. This would never do. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold on!" I interrupted sharply. +</P> + +<P> +He lowered his weapon to stare at me wild-eyed. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" he gasped. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop a minute!" I commanded. "Now take three deep breaths." +</P> + +<P> +He did so. +</P> + +<P> +"Now shoot," I advised, "and aim at his knees." +</P> + +<P> +The deer was now on his feet and facing us, so the Tenderfoot had the +entire length of the animal to allow for lineal variation. He fired. +The deer dropped. The Tenderfoot thrust his hat over one eye, rested +hand on hip in a manner cocky to behold. +</P> + +<P> +"Simply slaughter!" he proffered with lofty scorn. +</P> + +<P> +We descended. The bullet had broken the deer's back—about six inches +from the tail. The Tenderfoot had overshot by at least three feet. +</P> + +<P> +You will see many deer thus from the trail,—in fact, we kept up our +meat supply from the saddle, as one might say,—but to enjoy the finer +savor of seeing deer, you should start out definitely with that object +in view. Thus you have opportunity for the display of a certain finer +woodcraft. You must know where the objects of your search are likely +to be found, and that depends on the time of year, the time of days +their age, their sex, a hundred little things. When the bucks carry +antlers in the velvet, they frequent the inaccessibilities of the +highest rocky peaks, so their tender horns may not be torn in the +brush, but nevertheless so that the advantage of a lofty viewpoint may +compensate for the loss of cover. Later you will find them in the open +slopes of a lower altitude, fully exposed to the sun, that there the +heat may harden the antlers. Later still, the heads in fine condition +and tough to withstand scratches, they plunge into the dense thickets. +But in the mean time the fertile does have sought a lower country with +patches of small brush interspersed with open passages. There they can +feed with their fawns, completely concealed, but able, by merely +raising the head, to survey the entire landscape for the threatening of +danger. The barren does, on the other hand, you will find through the +timber and brush, for they are careless of all responsibilities either +to offspring or headgear. These are but a few of the considerations +you will take into account, a very few of the many which lend the deer +countries strange thrills of delight over new knowledge gained, over +crafty expedients invented or well utilized, over the satisfactory +matching of your reason, your instinct, your subtlety and skill against +the reason, instinct, subtlety, and skill of one of the wariest of +large wild animals. +</P> + +<P> +Perversely enough the times when you did NOT see deer are more apt to +remain vivid in your memory than the times when you did. I can still +see distinctly sundry wide jump-marks where the animal I was tracking +had evidently caught sight of me and lit out before I came up to him. +Equally, sundry little thin disappearing clouds of dust; cracklings of +brush, growing ever more distant; the tops of bushes waving to the +steady passage of something remaining persistently concealed,—these +are the chief ingredients often repeated which make up deer-stalking +memory. When I think of seeing deer, these things automatically rise. +</P> + +<P> +A few of the deer actually seen do, however, stand out clearly from the +many. When I was a very small boy possessed of a 32-20 rifle and large +ambitions, I followed the advantage my father's footsteps made me in +the deep snow of an unused logging-road. His attention was focused on +some very interesting fresh tracks. I, being a small boy, cared not at +all for tracks, and so saw a big doe emerge from the bushes not ten +yards away, lope leisurely across the road, and disappear, wagging +earnestly her tail. When I had recovered my breath I vehemently +demanded the sense of fooling with tracks when there were real live +deer to be had. My father examined me. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, why didn't you shoot her?" he inquired dryly. +</P> + +<P> +I hadn't thought of that. +</P> + +<P> +In the spring of 1900 I was at the head of the Piant River waiting for +the log-drive to start. One morning, happening to walk over a slashing +of many years before in which had grown a strong thicket of white +popples, I jumped a band of nine deer. I shall never forget the +bewildering impression made by the glancing, dodging, bouncing white of +those nine snowy tails and rumps. +</P> + +<P> +But most wonderful of all was a great buck, of I should be afraid to +say how many points, that stood silhouetted on the extreme end of a +ridge high above our camp. The time was just after twilight, and as we +watched, the sky lightened behind him in prophecy of the moon. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +ON TENDERFEET +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ON TENDERFEET +</H3> + +<P> +The tenderfoot is a queer beast. He makes more trouble than ants at a +picnic, more work than a trespassing goat; he never sees anything, +knows where anything is, remembers accurately your instructions, +follows them if remembered, or is able to handle without awkwardness +his large and pathetic hands and feet; he is always lost, always +falling off or into things, always in difficulties; his articles of +necessity are constantly being burned up or washed away or mislaid; he +looks at you beamingly through great innocent eyes in the most +chuckle-headed of manners; he exasperates you to within an inch of +explosion,—and yet you love him. +</P> + +<P> +I am referring now to the real tenderfoot, the fellow who cannot learn, +who is incapable ever of adjusting himself to the demands of the wild +life. Sometimes a man is merely green, inexperienced. But give him a +chance and he soon picks up the game. That is your greenhorn, not your +tenderfoot. Down near Monache meadows we came across an individual +leading an old pack-mare up the trail. The first thing, he asked us to +tell him where he was. We did so. Then we noticed that he carried his +gun muzzle-up in his hip-pocket, which seemed to be a nice way to shoot +a hole in your hand, but a poor way to make your weapon accessible. He +unpacked near us, and promptly turned the mare into a bog-hole because +it looked green. Then he stood around the rest of the evening and +talked deprecating talk of a garrulous nature. +</P> + +<P> +"Which way did you come?" asked Wes. +</P> + +<P> +The stranger gave us a hazy account of misnamed caņons, by which we +gathered that he had come directly over the rough divide below us. +</P> + +<P> +"But if you wanted to get to Monache, why didn't you go around to the +eastward through that pass, there, and save yourself all the climb? It +must have been pretty rough through there." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, perhaps so," he hesitated. "Still—I got lots of time—I can +take all summer, if I want to—and I'd rather stick to a straight +line—then you know where you ARE—if you get off the straight line, +you're likely to get lost, you know." +</P> + +<P> +We knew well enough what ailed him, of course. He was a tenderfoot, of +the sort that always, to its dying day, unhobbles its horses before +putting their halters on. Yet that man for thirty-two years had lived +almost constantly in the wild countries. He had traveled more miles +with a pack-train than we shall ever dream of traveling, and hardly +could we mention a famous camp of the last quarter century that he had +not blundered into. Moreover he proved by the indirections of his +misinformation that he had really been there and was not making ghost +stories in order to impress us. Yet if the Lord spares him thirty-two +years more, at the end of that time he will probably still be carrying +his gun upside down, turning his horse into a bog-hole, and blundering +through the country by main strength and awkwardness. He was a +beautiful type of the tenderfoot. +</P> + +<P> +The redeeming point of the tenderfoot is his humbleness of spirit and +his extreme good nature. He exasperates you with his fool performances +to the point of dancing cursing wild crying rage, and then accepts +your—well, reproofs—so meekly that you come off the boil as though +some one had removed you from the fire, and you feel like a low-browed +thug. +</P> + +<P> +Suppose your particular tenderfoot to be named Algernon. Suppose him +to have packed his horse loosely—they always do—so that the pack has +slipped, the horse has bucked over three square miles of assorted +mountains, and the rest of the train is scattered over identically that +area. You have run your saddle-horse to a lather heading the outfit. +You have sworn and dodged and scrambled and yelled, even fired your +six-shooter, to turn them and bunch them. In the mean time Algernon +has either sat his horse like a park policeman in his leisure hours, or +has ambled directly into your path of pursuit on an average of five +times a minute. Then the trouble dies from the landscape and the baby +bewilderment from his eyes. You slip from your winded horse and +address Algernon with elaborate courtesy. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear fellow," you remark, "did you not see that the thing for you +to do was to head them down by the bottom of that little gulch there? +Don't you really think ANYBODY would have seen it? What in hades do +you think I wanted to run my horse all through those boulders for? Do +you think I want to get him lame 'way up here in the hills? I don't +mind telling a man a thing once, but to tell it to him fifty-eight +times and then have it do no good— Have you the faintest recollection +of my instructing you to turn the bight OVER instead of UNDER when you +throw that pack-hitch? If you'd remember that, we shouldn't have had +all this trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't tell me to head them by the little gulch," babbles Algernon. +</P> + +<P> +This is just the utterly fool reply that upsets your artificial and +elaborate courtesy. You probably foam at the mouth, and dance on your +hat, and shriek wild imploring imprecations to the astonished hills. +This is not because you have an unfortunate disposition, but because +Algernon has been doing precisely the same thing for two months. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen to him!" you howl. "Didn't tell him! Why you gangle-legged +bug-eyed soft-handed pop-eared tenderfoot, you! there are some things +you never THINK of telling a man. I never told you to open your mouth +to spit, either. If you had a hired man at five dollars a year who was +so all-around hopelessly thick-headed and incompetent as you are, you'd +fire him to-morrow morning." +</P> + +<P> +Then Algernon looks truly sorry, and doesn't answer back as he ought to +in order to give occasion for the relief of a really soul-satisfying +scrap, and utters the soft answer humbly. So your wrath is turned and +there remain only the dregs which taste like some of Algernon's cooking. +</P> + +<P> +It is rather good fun to relieve the bitterness of the heart. Let me +tell you a few more tales of the tenderfoot, premising always that I +love him, and when at home seek him out to smoke pipes at his fireside, +to yarn over the trail, to wonder how much rancor he cherishes against +the maniacs who declaimed against him, and by way of compensation to +build up in the mind of his sweetheart, his wife, or his mother a +fearful and wonderful reputation for him as the Terror of the Trail. +These tales are selected from many, mere samples of a varied +experience. They occurred here, there, and everywhere, and at various +times. Let no one try to lay them at the door of our Tenderfoot merely +because such is his title in this narrative. We called him that by way +of distinction. +</P> + +<P> +Once upon a time some of us were engaged in climbing a mountain rising +some five thousand feet above our starting-place. As we toiled along, +one of the pack-horses became impatient and pushed ahead. We did not +mind that, especially, as long as she stayed in sight, but in a little +while the trail was closed in by brush and timber. +</P> + +<P> +"Algernon," said we, "just push on and get ahead of that mare, will +you?" +</P> + +<P> +Algernon disappeared. We continued to climb. The trail was steep and +rather bad. The labor was strenuous, and we checked off each thousand +feet with thankfulness. As we saw nothing further of Algernon, we +naturally concluded he had headed the mare and was continuing on the +trail. Then through a little opening we saw him riding cheerfully +along without a care to occupy his mind. Just for luck we hailed him. +</P> + +<P> +"Hi there, Algernon! Did you find her?" +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't seen her yet." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you'd better push on a little faster. She may leave the trail +at the summit." +</P> + +<P> +Then one of us, endowed by heaven with a keen intuitive instinct for +tenderfeet,—no one could have a knowledge of them, they are too +unexpected,—had an inspiration. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose there are tracks on the trail ahead of you?" he called. +</P> + +<P> +We stared at each other, then at the trail. Only one horse had +preceded us,—that of the tenderfoot. But of course Algernon was +nevertheless due for his chuckle-headed reply. +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't looked," said he. +</P> + +<P> +That raised the storm conventional to such an occasion. +</P> + +<P> +"What in the name of seventeen little dicky-birds did you think you +were up to!" we howled. "Were you going to ride ahead until dark in +the childlike faith that that mare might show up somewhere? Here's a +nice state of affairs. The trail is all tracked up now with our +horses, and heaven knows whether she's left tracks where she turned +off. It may be rocky there." +</P> + +<P> +We tied the animals savagely, and started back on foot. It would be +criminal to ask our saddle-horses to repeat that climb. Algernon we +ordered to stay with them. +</P> + +<P> +"And don't stir from them no matter what happens, or you'll get lost," +we commanded out of the wisdom of long experience. +</P> + +<P> +We climbed down the four thousand odd feet, and then back again, +leading the mare. She had turned off not forty rods from where +Algernon had taken up her pursuit. +</P> + +<P> +Your Algernon never does get down to little details like tracks—his +scheme of life is much too magnificent. To be sure he would not know +fresh tracks from old if he should see them; so it is probably quite as +well. In the morning he goes out after the horses. The bunch he finds +easily enough, but one is missing. What would you do about it? You +would naturally walk in a circle around the bunch until you crossed the +track of the truant leading away from it, wouldn't you? If you made a +wide enough circle you would inevitably cross that track, wouldn't you? +provided the horse started out with the bunch in the first place. Then +you would follow the track, catch the horse, and bring him back. Is +this Algernon's procedure? Not any. "Ha!" says he, "old Brownie is +missing. I will hunt him up." Then he maunders off into the scenery, +trusting to high heaven that he is going to blunder against Brownie as +a prominent feature of the landscape. After a couple of hours you +probably saddle up Brownie and go out to find the tenderfoot. +</P> + +<P> +He has a horrifying facility in losing himself. Nothing is more +cheering than to arise from a hard-earned couch of ease for the purpose +of trailing an Algernon or so through the gathering dusk to the spot +where he has managed to find something—a very real despair of ever +getting back to food and warmth. Nothing is more irritating then than +his gratitude. +</P> + +<P> +I traveled once in the Black Hills with such a tenderfoot. We were off +from the base of supplies for a ten days' trip with only a saddle-horse +apiece. This was near first principles, as our total provisions +consisted of two pounds of oatmeal, some tea, and sugar. Among other +things we climbed Mt. Harney. The trail, after we left the horses, was +as plain as a strip of Brussels carpet, but somehow or another that +tenderfoot managed to get off it. I hunted him up. We gained the top, +watched the sunset, and started down. The tenderfoot, I thought, was +fairly at my coat-tails, but when I turned to speak to him he had gone; +he must have turned off at one of the numerous little openings in the +brush. I sat down to wait. By and by, away down the west slope of the +mountain, I heard a shot, and a faint, a very faint, despairing yell. +I, also, shot and yelled. After various signals of the sort, it became +evident that the tenderfoot was approaching. In a moment he tore by at +full speed, his hat off, his eye wild, his six-shooter popping at every +jump. He passed within six feet of me, and never saw me. Subsequently +I left him on the prairie, with accurate and simple instructions. +</P> + +<P> +"There's the mountain range. You simply keep that to your left and +ride eight hours. Then you'll see Rapid City. You simply CAN'T get +lost. Those hills stick out like a sore thumb." +</P> + +<P> +Two days later he drifted into Rapid City, having wandered off +somewhere to the east. How he had done it I can never guess. That is +his secret. +</P> + +<P> +The tenderfoot is always in hard luck. Apparently, too, by all tests +of analysis it is nothing but luck, pure chance, misfortune. And yet +the very persistence of it in his case, where another escapes, perhaps +indicates that much of what we call good luck is in reality unconscious +skill in the arrangement of those elements which go to make up events. +A persistently unlucky man is perhaps sometimes to be pitied, but more +often to be booted. That philosophy will be cryingly unjust about once +in ten. +</P> + +<P> +But lucky or unlucky, the tenderfoot is human. Ordinarily that doesn't +occur to you. He is a malevolent engine of destruction—quite as +impersonal as heat or cold or lack of water. He is an unfortunate +article of personal belonging requiring much looking after to keep in +order. He is a credulous and convenient response to practical jokes, +huge tales, misinformation. He is a laudable object of attrition for +the development of your character. But somehow, in the woods, he is +not as other men, and so you do not come to feel yourself in close +human relations to him. +</P> + +<P> +But Algernon is real, nevertheless. He has feelings, even if you do +not respect them. He has his little enjoyments, even though he does +rarely contemplate anything but the horn of his saddle. +</P> + +<P> +"Algernon," you cry, "for heaven's sake stick that saddle of yours in a +glass case and glut yourself with the sight of its ravishing beauties +next WINTER. For the present do gaze on the mountains. That's what you +came for." +</P> + +<P> +No use. +</P> + +<P> +He has, doubtless, a full range of all the appreciative emotions, +though from his actions you'd never suspect it. Most human of all, he +possesses his little vanities. +</P> + +<P> +Algernon always overdoes the equipment question. If it is +bird-shooting, he accumulates leggings and canvas caps and belts and +dog-whistles and things until he looks like a picture from a +department-store catalogue. In the cow country he wears Stetson hats, +snake bands, red handkerchiefs, six-shooters, chaps, and huge spurs +that do not match his face. If it is yachting, he has a chronometer +with a gong in the cabin of a five-ton sailboat, possesses a +nickle-plated machine to register the heel of his craft, sports a +brass-bound yachting-cap and all the regalia. This is merely amusing. +But I never could understand his insane desire to get sunburned. A man +will get sunburned fast enough; he could not help it if he would. +Algernon usually starts out from town without a hat. Then he dares not +take off his sweater for a week lest it carry away his entire face. I +have seen men with deep sores on their shoulders caused by nothing but +excessive burning in the sun. This, too, is merely amusing. It means +quite simply that Algernon realizes his inner deficiencies and wants to +make up for them by the outward seeming. Be kind to him, for he has +been raised a pet. +</P> + +<P> +The tenderfoot is lovable—mysterious in how he does it—and awfully +unexpected. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE CAŅON +</H3> + +<P> +One day we tied our horses to three bushes, and walked on foot two +hundred yards. Then we looked down. +</P> + +<P> +It was nearly four thousand feet down. Do you realize how far that is? +There was a river meandering through olive-colored forests. It was so +distant that it was light green and as narrow as a piece of tape. Here +and there were rapids, but so remote that we could not distinguish the +motion of them, only the color. The white resembled tiny dabs of +cotton wool stuck on the tape. It turned and twisted, following the +turns and twists of the caņon. Somehow the level at the bottom +resembled less forests and meadows than a heavy and sluggish fluid like +molasses flowing between the caņon walls. It emerged from the bend of +a sheer cliff ten miles to eastward: it disappeared placidly around the +bend of another sheer cliff an equal distance to the westward. +</P> + +<P> +The time was afternoon. As we watched, the shadow of the caņon wall +darkened the valley. Whereupon we looked up. +</P> + +<P> +Now the upper air, of which we were dwellers for the moment, was +peopled by giants and clear atmosphere and glittering sunlight, +flashing like silver and steel and precious stones from the granite +domes, peaks, minarets, and palisades of the High Sierras. Solid as +they were in reality, in the crispness of this mountain air, under the +tangible blue of this mountain sky, they seemed to poise light as so +many balloons. Some of them rose sheer, with hardly a fissure; some +had flung across their shoulders long trailing pine draperies, fine as +fur; others matched mantles of the whitest white against the bluest +blue of the sky. Towards the lower country were more pines rising in +ridges, like the fur of an animal that has been alarmed. +</P> + +<P> +We dangled our feet over the edge and talked about it. Wes pointed to +the upper end where the sluggish lava-like flow of the caņon-bed first +came into view. +</P> + +<P> +"That's where we'll camp," said he. +</P> + +<P> +"When?" we asked. +</P> + +<P> +"When we get there," he answered. +</P> + +<P> +For this caņon lies in the heart of the mountains. Those who would +visit it have first to get into the country—a matter of over a week. +Then they have their choice of three probabilities of destruction. +</P> + +<P> +The first route comprehends two final days of travel at an altitude of +about ten thousand feet, where the snow lies in midsummer; where there +is no feed, no comfort, and the way is strewn with the bones of horses. +This is known as the "Basin Trail." After taking it, you prefer the +others—until you try them. +</P> + +<P> +The finish of the second route is directly over the summit of a +mountain. You climb two thousand feet and then drop down five. The +ascent is heart-breaking but safe. The descent is hair-raising and +unsafe: no profanity can do justice to it. Out of a pack-train of +thirty mules, nine were lost in the course of that five thousand feet. +Legend has it that once many years ago certain prospectors took in a +Chinese cook. At first the Mongolian bewailed his fate loudly and +fluently, but later settled to a single terrified moan that sounded +like "tu-ne-mah! tu-ne-mah!" The trail was therefore named the +"Tu-ne-mah Trail." It is said that "tu-ne-mah" is the very worst +single vituperation of which the Chinese language is capable. +</P> + +<P> +The third route is called "Hell's Half Mile." It is not misnamed. +</P> + +<P> +Thus like paradise the caņon is guarded; but like paradise it is +wondrous in delight. For when you descend you find that the tape-wide +trickle of water seen from above has become a river with profound +darkling pools and placid stretches and swift dashing rapids; that the +dark green sluggish flow in the caņon-bed has disintegrated into a +noble forest with great pine-trees, and shaded aisles, and deep dank +thickets, and brush openings where the sun is warm and the birds are +cheerful, and groves of cottonwoods where all day long softly, like +snow, the flakes of cotton float down through the air. Moreover there +are meadows, spacious lawns, opening out, closing in, winding here and +there through the groves in the manner of spilled naphtha, actually +waist high with green feed, sown with flowers like a brocade. Quaint +tributary little brooks babble and murmur down through these trees, +down through these lawns. A blessed warm sun hums with the joy of +innumerable bees. To right hand and to left, in front of you and +behind, rising sheer, forbidding, impregnable, the cliffs, mountains, +and ranges hem you in. Down the river ten miles you can go: then the +gorge closes, the river grows savage, you can only look down the +tumbling fierce waters and turn back. Up the river five miles you can +go, then interpose the sheer snow-clad cliffs of the Palisades, and +them, rising a matter of fourteen thousand feet, you may not cross. +You are shut in your paradise as completely as though surrounded by +iron bars. +</P> + +<P> +But, too, the world is shut out. The paradise is yours. In it are +trout and deer and grouse and bear and lazy happy days. Your horses +feed to the fatness of butter. You wander at will in the ample though +definite limits of your domain. You lie on your back and examine +dispassionately, with an interest entirely detached, the huge +cliff-walls of the valley. Days slip by. Really, it needs at least an +angel with a flaming sword to force you to move on. +</P> + +<P> +We turned away from our view and addressed ourselves to the task of +finding out just when we were going to get there. The first day we +bobbed up and over innumerable little ridges of a few hundred feet +elevation, crossed several streams, and skirted the wide bowl-like +amphitheatre of a basin. The second day we climbed over things and +finally ended in a small hanging park named Alpine Meadows, at an +elevation of eight thousand five hundred feet. There we rested-over a +day, camped under a single pine-tree, with the quick-growing mountain +grasses thick about us, a semicircle of mountains on three sides, and +the plunge into the caņon on the other. As we needed meat, we spent +part of the day in finding a deer. The rest of the time we watched +idly for bear. +</P> + +<P> +Bears are great travelers. They will often go twenty miles overnight, +apparently for the sheer delight of being on the move. Also are they +exceedingly loath to expend unnecessary energy in getting to places, +and they hate to go down steep hills. You see, their fore legs are +short. Therefore they are skilled in the choice of easy routes through +the mountains, and once having made the choice they stick to it until +through certain narrow places on the route selected they have worn a +trail as smooth as a garden-path. The old prospectors used quite +occasionally to pick out the horse-passes by trusting in general to the +bear migrations, and many a well-traveled route of to-day is +superimposed over the way-through picked out by old bruin long ago. +</P> + +<P> +Of such was our own trail. Therefore we kept our rifles at hand and +our eyes open for a straggler. But none came, though we baited craftily +with portions of our deer. All we gained was a rattlesnake, and he +seemed a bit out of place so high up in the air. +</P> + +<P> +Mount Tunemah stood over against us, still twenty-two hundred feet +above our elevation. We gazed on it sadly, for directly by its summit, +and for five hours beyond, lay our trail, and evil of reputation was +that trail beyond all others. The horses, as we bunched them in +preparation for the packing, took on a new interest, for it was on the +cards that the unpacking at evening would find some missing from the +ranks. +</P> + +<P> +"Lily's a goner, sure," said Wes. "I don't know how she's got this far +except by drunken man's luck. She'll never make the Tunemah." +</P> + +<P> +"And Tunemah himself," pointed out the Tenderfoot, naming his own fool +horse; "I see where I start in to walk." +</P> + +<P> +"Sort of a 'morituri te salutamur,'" said I. +</P> + +<P> +We climbed the two thousand two hundred feet, leading our saddle-horses +to save their strength. Every twenty feet we rested, breathing heavily +of the rarified air. Then at the top of the world we paused on the +brink of nothing to tighten cinches, while the cold wind swept by us, +the snow glittered in a sunlight become silvery like that of early +April, and the giant peaks of the High Sierras lifted into a distance +inconceivably remote, as though the horizon had been set back for their +accommodation. +</P> + +<P> +To our left lay a windrow of snow such as you will see drifted into a +sharp crest across a corner of your yard; only this windrow was twenty +feet high and packed solid by the sun, the wind, and the weight of its +age. We climbed it and looked over directly into the eye of a round +Alpine lake seven or eight hundred feet below. It was of an intense +cobalt blue, a color to be seen only in these glacial bodies of water, +deep and rich as the mantle of a merchant of Tyre. White ice floated +in it. The savage fierce granite needles and knife-edges of the +mountain crest hemmed it about. +</P> + +<P> +But this was temporizing, and we knew it. The first drop of the trail +was so steep that we could flip a pebble to the first level of it, and +so rough in its water-and-snow-gouged knuckles of rocks that it seemed +that at the first step a horse must necessarily fall end over end. We +made it successfully, however, and breathed deep. Even Lily, by a +miracle of lucky scrambling, did not even stumble. +</P> + +<P> +"Now she's easy for a little ways," said Wes, "then we'll get busy." +</P> + +<P> +When we "got busy" we took our guns in our hands to preserve them from +a fall, and started in. Two more miracles saved Dinkey at two more +places. We spent an hour at one spot, and finally built a new trail +around it. Six times a minute we held our breaths and stood on tiptoe +with anxiety, powerless to help, while the horse did his best. At the +especially bad places we checked them off one after another, +congratulating ourselves on so much saved as each came across without +accident. When there were no bad places, the trail was so +extraordinarily steep that we ahead were in constant dread of a horse's +falling on us from behind, and our legs did become wearied to incipient +paralysis by the constant stiff checking of the descent. Moreover +every second or so one of the big loose stones with which the trail was +cumbered would be dislodged and come bouncing down among us. We dodged +and swore; the horses kicked; we all feared for the integrity of our +legs. The day was full of an intense nervous strain, an entire +absorption in the precise present. We promptly forgot a difficulty as +soon as we were by it: we had not time to think of those still ahead. +All outside the insistence of the moment was blurred and unimportant, +like a specialized focus, so I cannot tell you much about the scenery. +The only outside impression we received was that the caņon floor was +slowly rising to meet us. +</P> + +<P> +Then strangely enough, as it seemed, we stepped off to level ground. +</P> + +<P> +Our watches said half-past three. We had made five miles in a little +under seven hours. +</P> + +<P> +Remained only the crossing of the river. This was no mean task, but we +accomplished it lightly, searching out a ford. There were high +grasses, and on the other side of them a grove of very tall +cottonwoods, clean as a park. First of all we cooked things; then we +spread things; then we lay on our backs and smoked things, our hands +clasped back of our heads. We cocked ironical eyes at the sheer cliff +of old Mount Tunemah, very much as a man would cock his eye at a tiger +in a cage. +</P> + +<P> +Already the meat-hawks, the fluffy Canada jays, had found us out, and +were prepared to swoop down boldly on whatever offered to their +predatory skill. We had nothing for them yet,—there were no remains of +the lunch,—but the fire-irons were out, and ribs of venison were +roasting slowly over the coals in preparation for the evening meal. +Directly opposite, visible through the lattice of the trees, were two +huge mountain peaks, part of the wall that shut us in, over against us +in a height we had not dared ascribe to the sky itself. By and by the +shadow of these mountains rose on the westerly wall. It crept up at +first slowly, extinguishing color; afterwards more rapidly as the sun +approached the horizon. The sunlight disappeared. A moment's gray +intervened, and then the wonderful golden afterglow laid on the peaks +its enchantment. Little by little that too faded, until at last, far +away, through a rift in the ranks of the giants, but one remained +gilded by the glory of a dream that continued with it after the others. +Heretofore it had seemed to us an insignificant peak, apparently +overtopped by many, but by this token we knew it to be the highest of +them all. +</P> + +<P> +Then ensued another pause, as though to give the invisible +scene-shifter time to accomplish his work, followed by a shower of +evening coolness, that seemed to sift through the trees like a soft and +gentle rain. We ate again by the flicker of the fire, dabbing a trifle +uncertainly at the food, wondering at the distant mountain on which the +Day had made its final stand, shrinking a little before the stealthy +dark that flowed down the caņon in the manner of a heavy smoke. +</P> + +<P> +In the notch between the two huge mountains blazed a star,—accurately +in the notch, like the front sight of a rifle sighted into the +marvelous depths of space. Then the moon rose. +</P> + +<P> +First we knew of it when it touched the crest of our two mountains. +The night has strange effects on the hills. A moment before they had +menaced black and sullen against the sky, but at the touch of the moon +their very substance seemed to dissolve, leaving in the upper +atmosphere the airiest, most nebulous, fragile, ghostly simulacrums of +themselves you could imagine in the realms of fairy-land. They seemed +actually to float, to poise like cloud-shapes about to dissolve. And +against them were cast the inky silhouettes of three fir-trees in the +shadow near at hand. +</P> + +<P> +Down over the stones rolled the river, crying out to us with the voices +of old accustomed friends in another wilderness. The winds rustled. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +TROUT, BUCKSKIN, AND PROSPECTORS +</H3> + +<P> +As I have said, a river flows through the caņon. It is a very good +river with some riffles that can be waded down to the edges of black +pools or white chutes of water; with appropriate big trees fallen +slantwise into it to form deep holes; and with hurrying smooth +stretches of some breadth. In all of these various places are rainbow +trout. +</P> + +<P> +There is no use fishing until late afternoon. The clear sun of the +high altitudes searches out mercilessly the bottom of the stream, +throwing its miniature boulders, mountains, and valleys as plainly into +relief as the buttes of Arizona at noon. Then the trout quite refuse. +Here and there, if you walk far enough and climb hard enough over all +sorts of obstructions, you may discover a few spots shaded by big trees +or rocks where you can pick up a half dozen fish; but it is slow work. +When, however, the shadow of the two huge mountains feels its way +across the stream, then, as though a signal had been given, the trout +begin to rise. For an hour and a half there is noble sport indeed. +</P> + +<P> +The stream fairly swarmed with them, but of course some places were +better than others. Near the upper reaches the water boiled like +seltzer around the base of a tremendous tree. There the pool was at +least ten feet deep and shot with bubbles throughout the whole of its +depth, but it was full of fish. They rose eagerly to your gyrating +fly,—and took it away with them down to subaqueous chambers and +passages among the roots of that tree. After which you broke your +leader. Royal Coachman was the best lure, and therefore valuable +exceedingly were Royal Coachmen. Whenever we lost one we lifted up our +voices in lament, and went away from there, calling to mind that there +were other pools, many other pools, free of obstruction and with fish +in them. Yet such is the perversity of fishermen, we were back losing +more Royal Coachmen the very next day. In all I managed to disengage +just three rather small trout from that pool, and in return decorated +their ancestral halls with festoons of leaders and the brilliance of +many flies. +</P> + +<P> +Now this was foolishness. All you had to do was to walk through a +grove of cottonwoods, over a brook, through another grove of pines, +down a sloping meadow to where one of the gigantic pine-trees had +obligingly spanned the current. You crossed that, traversed another +meadow, broke through a thicket, slid down a steep grassy bank, and +there you were. A great many years before a pine-tree had fallen +across the current. Now its whitened skeleton lay there, opposing a +barrier for about twenty-five feet out into the stream. Most of the +water turned aside, of course, and boiled frantically around the end as +though trying to catch up with the rest of the stream which had gone on +without it, but some of it dived down under and came up on the other +side. There, as though bewildered, it paused in an uneasy pool. Its +constant action had excavated a very deep hole, the debris of which had +formed a bar immediately below. You waded out on the bar and cast +along the length of the pine skeleton over the pool. +</P> + +<P> +If you were methodical, you first shortened your line, and began near +the bank, gradually working out until you were casting forty-five feet +to the very edge of the fast current. I know of nothing pleasanter for +you to do. You see, the evening shadow was across the river, and a +beautiful grass slope at your back. Over the way was a grove of trees +whose birds were very busy because it was near their sunset, while +towering over them were mountains, quite peaceful by way of contrast +because THEIR sunset was still far distant. The river was in a great +hurry, and was talking to itself like a man who has been detained and +is now at last making up time to his important engagement. And from +the deep black shadow beneath the pine skeleton, occasionally flashed +white bodies that made concentric circles where they broke the surface +of the water, and which fought you to a finish in the glory of battle. +The casting was against the current, so your flies could rest but the +briefest possible moment on the surface of the stream. That moment was +enough. Day after day you could catch your required number from an +apparently inexhaustible supply. +</P> + +<P> +I might inform you further of the gorge downstream, where you lie flat +on your stomach ten feet above the river, and with one hand cautiously +extended over the edge cast accurately into the angle of the cliff. +Then when you get your strike, you tow him downstream, clamber +precariously to the water's level—still playing your fish—and there +land him,—if he has accommodatingly stayed hooked. A three-pound fish +will make you a lot of tribulation at this game. +</P> + +<P> +We lived on fish and venison, and had all we wanted. The bear-trails +were plenty enough, and the signs were comparatively fresh, but at the +time of our visit the animals themselves had gone over the mountains on +some sort of a picnic. Grouse, too, were numerous in the popple +thickets, and flushed much like our ruffed grouse of the East. They +afforded first-rate wing-shooting for Sure-Pop, the little shot-gun. +</P> + +<P> +But these things occupied, after all, only a small part of every day. +We had loads of time left. Of course we explored the valley up and +down. That occupied two days. After that we became lazy. One always +does in a permanent camp. So did the horses. Active—or rather +restless interest in life seemed to die away. Neither we nor they had +to rustle hard for food. They became fastidious in their choice, and +at all times of day could be seen sauntering in Indian file from one +part of the meadow to the other for the sole purpose apparently of +cropping a half dozen indifferent mouthfuls. The rest of the time they +roosted under trees, one hind leg relaxed, their eyes half closed, +their ears wabbling, the pictures of imbecile content. We were very +much the same. +</P> + +<P> +Of course we had our outbursts of virtue. While under their influence +we undertook vast works. But after their influence had died out, we +found ourselves with said vast works on our hands, and so came to +cursing ourselves and our fool spasms of industry. +</P> + +<P> +For instance, Wes and I decided to make buckskin from the hide of the +latest deer. We did not need the buckskin—we already had two in the +pack. Our ordinary procedure would have been to dry the hide for +future treatment by a Mexican, at a dollar a hide, when we should have +returned home. But, as I said, we were afflicted by sporadic activity, +and wanted to do something. +</P> + +<P> +We began with great ingenuity by constructing a graining-tool out of a +table-knife. We bound it with rawhide, and encased it with wood, and +wrapped it with cloth, and filed its edge square across, as is proper. +After this we hunted out a very smooth, barkless log, laid the hide +across it, straddled it, and began graining. +</P> + +<P> +Graining is a delightful process. You grasp the tool by either end, +hold the square edge at a certain angle, and push away from you +mightily. A half-dozen pushes will remove a little patch of hair; +twice as many more will scrape away half as much of the seal-brown +grain, exposing the white of the hide. Then, if you want to, you can +stop and establish in your mind a definite proportion between the +amount thus exposed, the area remaining unexposed, and the muscular +fatigue of these dozen and a half of mighty pushes. The proportion +will be wrong. You have left out of account the fact that you are +going to get almighty sick of the job; that your arms and upper back +are going to ache shrewdly before you are done; and that as you go on +it is going to be increasingly difficult to hold down the edges firmly +enough to offer the required resistance to your knife. Besides—if you +get careless—you'll scrape too hard: hence little holes in the +completed buckskin. Also—if you get careless—you will probably leave +the finest, tiniest shreds of grain, and each of them means a hard +transparent spot in the product. Furthermore, once having started in on +the job, you are like the little boy who caught the trolley: you cannot +let go. It must be finished immediately, all at one heat, before the +hide stiffens. +</P> + +<P> +Be it understood, your first enthusiasm has evaporated, and you are +thinking of fifty pleasant things you might just as well be doing. +</P> + +<P> +Next you revel in grease,—lard oil, if you have it; if not, then lard, +or the product of boiled brains. This you must rub into the skin. You +rub it in until you suspect that your finger-nails have worn away, and +you glisten to the elbows like an Eskimo cutting blubber. +</P> + +<P> +By the merciful arrangement of those who invented buckskin, this +entitles you to a rest. You take it—for several days—until your +conscience seizes you by the scruff of the neck. +</P> + +<P> +Then you transport gingerly that slippery, clammy, soggy, snaky, cold +bundle of greasy horror to the bank of the creek, and there for endless +hours you wash it. The grease is more reluctant to enter the stream +than you are in the early morning. Your hands turn purple. The others +go by on their way to the trout-pools, but you are chained to the stake. +</P> + +<P> +By and by you straighten your back with creaks, and walk home like a +stiff old man, carrying your hide rid of all superfluous oil. Then if +you are just learning how, your instructor examines the result. +</P> + +<P> +"That's all right," says he cheerfully. "Now when it dries, it will be +buckskin." +</P> + +<P> +That encourages you. It need not. For during the process of drying it +must be your pastime constantly to pull and stretch at every square +inch of that boundless skin in order to loosen all the fibres. +Otherwise it would dry as stiff as whalebone. Now there is nothing on +earth that seems to dry slower than buckskin. You wear your fingers +down to the first joints, and, wishing to preserve the remainder for +future use, you carry the hide to your instructor. +</P> + +<P> +"Just beginning to dry nicely," says he. +</P> + +<P> +You go back and do it some more, putting the entire strength of your +body, soul, and religious convictions into the stretching of that +buckskin. It looks as white as paper; and feels as soft and warm as +the turf on a southern slope. Nevertheless your tyrant declares it +will not do. +</P> + +<P> +"It looks dry, and it feels dry," says he, "but it isn't dry. Go to +it!" +</P> + +<P> +But at this point your outraged soul arches its back and bucks. You +sneak off and roll up that piece of buckskin, and thrust it into the +alforja. You KNOW it is dry. Then with a deep sigh of relief you come +out of prison into the clear, sane, lazy atmosphere of the camp. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean to tell me that there is any one chump enough to do that +for a dollar a hide?" you inquire. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," say they. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, the Fool Killer is certainly behind on his dates," you conclude. +</P> + +<P> +About a week later one of your companions drags out of the alforja +something crumpled that resembles in general appearance and texture a +rusted five-gallon coal-oil can that has been in a wreck. It is only +imperceptibly less stiff and angular and cast-iron than rawhide. +</P> + +<P> +"What is this?" the discoverer inquires. +</P> + +<P> +Then quietly you go out and sit on a high place before recognition +brings inevitable—and sickening—chaff. For you know it at a glance. +It is your buckskin. +</P> + +<P> +Along about the middle of that century an old prospector with four +burros descended the Basin Trail and went into camp just below us. +Towards evening he sauntered in. +</P> + +<P> +I sincerely wish I could sketch this man for you just as he came down +through the fire-lit trees. He was about six feet tall, very leanly +built, with a weather-beaten face of mahogany on which was superimposed +a sweeping mustache and beetling eye-brows. These had originally been +brown, but the sun had bleached them almost white in remarkable +contrast to his complexion. Eyes keen as sunlight twinkled far down +beneath the shadows of the brows and a floppy old sombrero hat. The +usual flannel shirt, waistcoat, mountain-boots, and six-shooter +completed the outfit. He might have been forty, but was probably +nearer sixty years of age. +</P> + +<P> +"Howdy, boys," said he, and dropped to the fireside, where he promptly +annexed a coal for his pipe. +</P> + +<P> +We all greeted him, but gradually the talk fell to him and Wes. It was +commonplace talk enough from one point of view: taken in essence it was +merely like the inquiry and answer of the civilized man as to another's +itinerary—"Did you visit Florence? Berlin? St. Petersburg?"—and then +the comparing of impressions. Only here again that old familiar magic +of unfamiliar names threw its glamour over the terse sentences. +</P> + +<P> +"Over beyond the Piute Monument," the old prospector explained, "down +through the Inyo Range, a leetle north of Death Valley—" +</P> + +<P> +"Back in seventy-eight when I was up in Bay Horse Caņon over by Lost +River—" +</P> + +<P> +"Was you ever over in th' Panamit Mountains?—North of th' Telescope +Range?—" +</P> + +<P> +That was all there was to it, with long pauses for drawing at the +pipes. Yet somehow in the aggregate that catalogue of names gradually +established in the minds of us two who listened an impression of long +years, of wide wilderness, of wandering far over the face of the earth. +The old man had wintered here, summered a thousand miles away, made his +strike at one end of the world, lost it somehow, and cheerfully tried +for a repetition of his luck at the other. I do not believe the +possibility of wealth, though always of course in the background, was +ever near enough his hope to be considered a motive for action. Rather +was it a dream, remote, something to be gained to-morrow, but never +to-day, like the mediaeval Christian's idea of heaven. His interest +was in the search. For that one could see in him a real enthusiasm. +He had his smattering of theory, his very real empirical knowledge, and +his superstitions, like all prospectors. So long as he could keep in +grub, own a little train of burros, and lead the life he loved, he was +happy. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps one of the chief elements of this remarkable interest in the +game rather than the prizes of it was his desire to vindicate his +guesses or his conclusions. He liked to predict to himself the outcome +of his solitary operations, and then to prove that prediction through +laborious days. His life was a gigantic game of solitaire. In fact, +he mentioned a dozen of his claims many years apart which he had +developed to a certain point,—"so I could see what they was,"—and +then abandoned in favor of fresher discoveries. He cherished the +illusion that these were properties to whose completion some day he +would return. But we knew better; he had carried them to the point +where the result was no longer in doubt and then, like one who has no +interest in playing on in an evidently prescribed order, had laid his +cards on the table to begin a new game. +</P> + +<P> +This man was skilled in his profession; he had pursued it for thirty +odd years; he was frugal and industrious; undoubtedly of his long +series of discoveries a fair percentage were valuable and are +producing-properties to-day. Yet he confessed his bank balance to be +less than five hundred dollars. Why was this? Simply and solely +because he did not care. At heart it was entirely immaterial to him +whether he ever owned a dollar above his expenses. When he sold his +claims, he let them go easily, loath to bother himself with business +details, eager to get away from the fuss and nuisance. The few hundred +dollars he received he probably sunk in unproductive mining work, or +was fleeced out of in the towns. Then joyfully he turned back to his +beloved mountains and the life of his slow deep delight and his pecking +away before the open doors of fortune. By and by he would build +himself a little cabin down in the lower pine mountains, where he would +grow a white beard, putter with occult wilderness crafts, and smoke +long contemplative hours in the sun before his door. For tourists he +would braid rawhide reins and quirts, or make buckskin. The jays and +woodpeckers and Douglas squirrels would become fond of him. So he +would be gathered to his fathers, a gentle old man whose life had been +spent harmlessly in the open. He had had his ideal to which blindly he +reached; he had in his indirect way contributed the fruits of his labor +to mankind; his recompenses he had chosen according to his desires. +When you consider these things, you perforce have to revise your first +notion of him as a useless sort of old ruffian. As you come to know +him better, you must love him for the kindliness, the simple honesty, +the modesty, and charity that he seems to draw from his mountain +environment. There are hundreds of him buried in the great caņons of +the West. +</P> + +<P> +Our prospector was a little uncertain as to his plans. Along toward +autumn he intended to land at some reputed placers near Dinkey Creek. +There might be something in that district. He thought he would take a +look. In the mean time he was just poking up through the country—he +and his jackasses. Good way to spend the summer. Perhaps he might run +across something 'most anywhere; up near the top of that mountain +opposite looked mineralized. Didn't know but what he'd take a look at +her to-morrow. +</P> + +<P> +He camped near us during three days. I never saw a more modest, +self-effacing man. He seemed genuinely, childishly, almost helplessly +interested in our fly-fishing, shooting, our bear-skins, and our +travels. You would have thought from his demeanor—which was sincere +and not in the least ironical—that he had never seen or heard anything +quite like that before, and was struck with wonder at it. Yet he had +cast flies before we were born, and shot even earlier than he had cast +a fly, and was a very Ishmael for travel. Rarely could you get an +account of his own experiences, and then only in illustration of +something else. +</P> + +<P> +"If you-all likes bear-hunting," said he, "you ought to get up in +eastern Oregon. I summered there once. The only trouble is, the brush +is thick as hair. You 'most always have to bait them, or wait for them +to come and drink. The brush is so small you ain't got much chance. I +run onto a she-bear and cubs that way once. Didn't have nothin' but my +six-shooter, and I met her within six foot." +</P> + +<P> +He stopped with an air of finality. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what did you do?" we asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Me?" he inquired, surprised. "Oh, I just leaked out of th' landscape." +</P> + +<P> +He prospected the mountain opposite, loafed with us a little, and then +decided that he must be going. About eight o'clock in the morning he +passed us, hazing his burros, his tall, lean figure elastic in defiance +of years. +</P> + +<P> +"So long, boys," he called; "good luck!" +</P> + +<P> +"So long," we responded heartily. "Be good to yourself." +</P> + +<P> +He plunged into the river without hesitation, emerged dripping on the +other side, and disappeared in the brush. From time to time during the +rest of the morning we heard the intermittent tinkling of his +bell-animal rising higher and higher above us on the trail. +</P> + +<P> +In the person of this man we gained our first connection, so to speak, +with the Golden Trout. He had caught some of them, and could tell us +of their habits. +</P> + +<P> +Few fishermen west of the Rockies have not heard of the Golden Trout, +though, equally, few have much definite information concerning it. +Such information usually runs about as follows: +</P> + +<P> +It is a medium size fish of the true trout family, resembling a rainbow +except that it is of a rich golden color. The peculiarity that makes +its capture a dream to be dreamed of is that it swims in but one little +stream of all the round globe. If you would catch a Golden Trout, you +must climb up under the very base of the end of the High Sierras. +There is born a stream that flows down from an elevation of about ten +thousand feet to about eight thousand before it takes a long plunge +into a branch of the Kern River. Over the twenty miles of its course +you can cast your fly for Golden Trout; but what is the nature of that +stream, that fish, or the method of its capture, few can tell you with +any pretense of accuracy. +</P> + +<P> +To be sure, there are legends. One, particularly striking, claims that +the Golden Trout occurs in one other stream—situated in Central +Asia!—and that the fish is therefore a remnant of some pre-glacial +period, like Sequoia trees, a sort of grand-daddy of all trout, as it +were. This is but a sample of what you will hear discussed. +</P> + +<P> +Of course from the very start we had had our eye on the Golden Trout, +and intended sooner or later to work our way to his habitat. Our +prospector had just come from there. +</P> + +<P> +"It's about four weeks south, the way you and me travels," said he. +"You don't want to try Harrison's Pass; it's chock full of tribulation. +Go around by way of the Giant Forest. She's pretty good there, too, +some sizable timber. Then over by Redwood Meadows, and Timber Gap, by +Mineral King, and over through Farewell Gap. You turn east there, on a +new trail. She's steeper than straight-up-an'-down, but shorter than +the other. When you get down in the caņon of Kern River,—say, she's a +fine caņon, too,—you want to go downstream about two mile to where +there's a sort of natural overflowed lake full of stubs stickin' up. +You'll get some awful big rainbows in there. Then your best way is to +go right up Whitney Creek Trail to a big high meadows mighty nigh to +timber-line. That's where I camped. They's lots of them little yaller +fish there. Oh, they bite well enough. You'll catch 'em. They's a +little shy." +</P> + +<P> +So in that guise—as the desire for new and distant things—did our +angel with the flaming sword finally come to us. +</P> + +<P> +We caught reluctant horses reluctantly. All the first day was to be a +climb. We knew it; and I suspect that they knew it too. Then we +packed and addressed ourselves to the task offered us by the Basin +Trail. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ON CAMP COOKERY +</H3> + +<P> +One morning I awoke a little before the others, and lay on my back +staring up through the trees. It was not my day to cook. We were +camped at the time only about sixty-five hundred feet high, and the +weather was warm. Every sort of green thing grew very lush all about +us, but our own little space was held dry and clear for us by the +needles of two enormous red cedars some four feet in diameter. A +variety of thoughts sifted through my mind as it followed lazily the +shimmering filaments of loose spider-web streaming through space. The +last thought stuck. It was that that day was a holiday. Therefore I +unlimbered my six-shooter, and turned her loose, each shot being +accompanied by a meritorious yell. +</P> + +<P> +The outfit boiled out of its blankets. I explained the situation, and +after they had had some breakfast they agreed with me that a +celebration was in order. Unanimously we decided to make it gastronomic. +</P> + +<P> +"We will ride till we get to good feed," we concluded, "and then we'll +cook all the afternoon. And nobody must eat anything until the whole +business is prepared and served." +</P> + +<P> +It was agreed. We rode until we were very hungry, which was eleven +o'clock. Then we rode some more. By and by we came to a log cabin in +a wide fair lawn below a high mountain with a ducal coronet on its top, +and around that cabin was a fence, and inside the fence a man chopping +wood. Him we hailed. He came to the fence and grinned at us from the +elevation of high-heeled boots. By this token we knew him for a +cow-puncher. +</P> + +<P> +"How are you?" said we. +</P> + +<P> +"Howdy, boys," he roared. Roared is the accurate expression. He was +not a large man, and his hair was sandy, and his eye mild blue. But +undoubtedly his kinsmen were dumb and he had as birthright the voice +for the entire family. It had been subsequently developed in the +shouting after the wild cattle of the hills. Now his ordinary +conversational tone was that of the announcer at a circus. But his +heart was good. +</P> + +<P> +"Can we camp here?" we inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure thing," he bellowed. "Turn your horses into the meadow. Camp +right here." +</P> + +<P> +But with the vision of a rounded wooded knoll a few hundred yards +distant we said we'd just get out of his way a little. We crossed a +creek, mounted an easy slope to the top of the knoll, and were +delighted to observe just below its summit the peculiar fresh green +hump which indicates a spring. The Tenderfoot, however, knew nothing +of springs, for shortly he trudged a weary way back to the creek, and +so returned bearing kettles of water. This performance hugely +astonished the cowboy, who subsequently wanted to know if a "critter +had died in the spring." +</P> + +<P> +Wes departed to borrow a big Dutch oven of the man and to invite him to +come across when we raised the long yell. Then we began operations. +</P> + +<P> +Now camp cooks are of two sorts. Anybody can with a little practice +fry bacon, steak, or flapjacks, and boil coffee. The reduction of the +raw material to its most obvious cooked result is within the reach of +all but the most hopeless tenderfoot who never knows the salt-sack from +the sugar-sack. But your true artist at the business is he who can +from six ingredients, by permutation, combination, and the genius that +is in him turn out a full score of dishes. For simple example: GIVEN, +rice, oatmeal, and raisins. Your expert accomplishes the following: +</P> + +<P> +ITEM—Boiled rice. +</P> + +<P> +ITEM—Boiled oatmeal. +</P> + +<P> +ITEM—Rice boiled until soft, then stiffened by the addition of quarter +as much oatmeal. +</P> + +<P> +ITEM—Oatmeal in which is boiled almost to the dissolving point a third +as much rice. +</P> + +<P> +These latter two dishes taste entirely unlike each other or their +separate ingredients. They are moreover great in nutrition. +</P> + +<P> +ITEM—Boiled rice and raisins. +</P> + +<P> +ITEM—Dish number three with raisins. +</P> + +<P> +ITEM—Rice boiled with raisins, sugar sprinkled on top, and then baked. +</P> + +<P> +ITEM—Ditto with dish number three. +</P> + +<P> +All these are good—and different. +</P> + +<P> +Some people like to cook and have a natural knack for it. Others hate +it. If you are one of the former, select a propitious moment to +suggest that you will cook, if the rest will wash the dishes and supply +the wood and water. Thus you will get first crack at the fire in the +chill of morning; and at night you can squat on your heels doing light +labor while the others rustle. +</P> + +<P> +In a mountain trip small stout bags for the provisions are necessary. +They should be big enough to contain, say, five pounds of corn-meal, +and should tie firmly at the top. It will be absolutely labor lost for +you to mark them on the outside, as the outside soon will become +uniform in color with your marking. Tags might do, if occasionally +renewed. But if you have the instinct, you will soon come to recognize +the appearance of the different bags as you recognize the features of +your family. They should contain small quantities for immediate use of +the provisions the main stock of which is carried on another +pack-animal. One tin plate apiece and "one to grow on"; the same of tin +cups; half a dozen spoons; four knives and forks; a big spoon; two +frying-pans; a broiler; a coffee-pot; a Dutch oven; and three light +sheet-iron pails to nest in one another was what we carried on this +trip. You see, we had horses. Of course in the woods that outfit +would be materially reduced. +</P> + +<P> +For the same reason, since we had our carrying done for us, we took +along two flat iron bars about twenty-four inches in length. These, +laid across two stones between which the fire had been built, we used +to support our cooking-utensils stove-wise. I should never carry a +stove. This arrangement is quite as effective, and possesses the added +advantage that wood does not have to be cut for it of any definite +length. Again, in the woods these iron bars would be a senseless +burden. But early you will learn that while it is foolish to carry a +single ounce more than will pay in comfort or convenience for its own +transportation, it is equally foolish to refuse the comforts or +conveniences that modified circumstance will permit you. To carry only +a forest equipment with pack-animals would be as silly as to carry only +a pack-animal outfit on a Pullman car. Only look out that you do not +reverse it. +</P> + +<P> +Even if you do not intend to wash dishes, bring along some "Gold Dust." +It is much simpler in getting at odd corners of obstinate kettles than +any soap. All you have to do is to boil some of it in that kettle, and +the utensil is tamed at once. +</P> + +<P> +That's about all you, as expert cook, are going to need in the way of +equipment. Now as to your fire. +</P> + +<P> +There are a number of ways of building a cooking fire, but they share +one first requisite: it should be small. A blaze will burn everything, +including your hands and your temper. Two logs laid side by side and +slanted towards each other so that small things can go on the narrow +end and big things on the wide end; flat rocks arranged in the same +manner; a narrow trench in which the fire is built; and the flat irons +just described—these are the best-known methods. Use dry wood. +Arrange to do your boiling first—in the flame; and your frying and +broiling last—after the flames have died to coals. +</P> + +<P> +So much in general. You must remember that open-air cooking is in many +things quite different from indoor cooking. You have different +utensils, are exposed to varying temperatures, are limited in +resources, and pursued by a necessity of haste. Preconceived notions +must go by the board. You are after results; and if you get them, do +not mind the feminines of your household lifting the hands of horror +over the unorthodox means. Mighty few women I have ever seen were good +camp-fire cooks; not because camp-fire cookery is especially difficult, +but because they are temperamentally incapable of ridding themselves of +the notion that certain things should be done in a certain way, and +because if an ingredient lacks, they cannot bring themselves to +substitute an approximation. They would rather abandon the dish than +do violence to the sacred art. +</P> + +<P> +Most camp-cookery advice is quite useless for the same reason. I have +seen many a recipe begin with the words: "Take the yolks of four eggs, +half a cup of butter, and a cup of fresh milk—" As if any one really +camping in the wilderness ever had eggs, butter, and milk! +</P> + +<P> +Now here is something I cooked for this particular celebration. Every +woman to whom I have ever described it has informed me vehemently that +it is not cake, and must be "horrid." Perhaps it is not cake, but it +looks yellow and light, and tastes like cake. +</P> + +<P> +First I took two cups of flour, and a half cup of corn-meal to make it +look yellow. In this I mixed a lot of baking-powder,—about twice what +one should use for bread,—and topped off with a cup of sugar. The +whole I mixed with water into a light dough. Into the dough went +raisins that had previously been boiled to swell them up. Thus was the +cake mixed. Now I poured half the dough into the Dutch oven, sprinkled +it with a good layer of sugar, cinnamon, and unboiled raisins; poured +in the rest of the dough; repeated the layer of sugar, cinnamon, and +raisins; and baked in the Dutch oven. It was gorgeous, and we ate it +at one fell swoop. +</P> + +<P> +While we are about it, we may as well work backwards on this particular +orgy by describing the rest of our dessert. In addition to the cake +and some stewed apricots, I, as cook of the day, constructed also a +pudding. +</P> + +<P> +The basis was flour—two cups of it. Into this I dumped a handful of +raisins, a tablespoonful of baking-powder, two of sugar, and about a +pound of fat salt pork cut into little cubes. This I mixed up into a +mess by means of a cup or so of water and a quantity of +larrupy-dope.[1] Then I dipped a flour-sack in hot water, wrung it +out, sprinkled it with dry flour, and half filled it with my pudding +mixture. The whole outfit I boiled for two hours in a kettle. It, +too, was good to the palate, and was even better sliced and fried the +following morning. +</P> + +<P> +This brings us to the suspension of kettles. There are two ways. If +you are in a hurry, cut a springy pole, sharpen one end, and stick it +perpendicular in the ground. Bend it down towards your fire. Hang +your kettle on the end of it. If you have jabbed it far enough into +the ground in the first place, it will balance nicely by its own spring +and the elasticity of the turf. The other method is to plant two +forked sticks on either side your fire over which a strong cross-piece +is laid. The kettles are hung on hooks cut from forked branches. The +forked branches are attached to the cross-piece by means of thongs or +withes. +</P> + +<P> +On this occasion we had deer, grouse, and ducks in the larder. The +best way to treat them is as follows. You may be sure we adopted the +best way. +</P> + +<P> +When your deer is fresh, you will enjoy greatly a dish of liver and +bacon. Only the liver you will discover to be a great deal tenderer +and more delicate than any calf's liver you ever ate. There is this +difference: a deer's liver should be parboiled in order to get rid of a +green bitter scum that will rise to the surface and which you must skim +off. +</P> + +<P> +Next in order is the "back strap" and tenderloin, which is always +tender, even when fresh. The hams should be kept at least five days. +Deer-steak, to my notion, is best broiled, though occasionally it is +pleasant by way of variety to fry it. In that case a brown gravy is +made by thoroughly heating flour in the grease, and then stirring in +water. Deer-steak threaded on switches and "barbecued" over the coals +is delicious. The outside will be a little blackened, but all the +juices will be retained. To enjoy this to the utmost you should take +it in your fingers and GNAW. The only permissible implement is your +hunting-knife. Do not forget to peel and char slightly the switches on +which you thread the meat, otherwise they will impart their fresh-wood +taste. +</P> + +<P> +By this time the ribs are in condition. Cut little slits between them, +and through the slits thread in and out long strips of bacon. Cut +other little gashes, and fill these gashes with onions chopped very +fine. Suspend the ribs across two stones between which you have allowed +a fire to die down to coals. +</P> + +<P> +There remain now the hams, shoulders, and heart. The two former furnish +steaks. The latter you will make into a "bouillon." Here inserts +itself quite naturally the philosophy of boiling meat. It may be +stated in a paragraph. +</P> + +<P> +If you want boiled meat, put it in hot water. That sets the juices. +If you want soup, put it in cold water and bring to a boil. That sets +free the juices. Remember this. +</P> + +<P> +Now you start your bouillon cold. Into a kettle of water put your deer +hearts, or your fish, a chunk of pork, and some salt. Bring to a boil. +Next drop in quartered potatoes, several small whole onions, a half +cupful of rice, a can of tomatoes—if you have any. Boil slowly for an +hour or so—until things pierce easily under the fork. Add several +chunks of bread and a little flour for thickening. Boil down to about +a chowder consistency, and serve hot. It is all you will need for that +meal; and you will eat of it until there is no more. +</P> + +<P> +I am supposing throughout that you know enough to use salt and pepper +when needed. +</P> + +<P> +So much for your deer. The grouse you can split and fry, in which case +the brown gravy described for the fried deer-steak is just the thing. +Or you can boil him. If you do that, put him into hot water, boil +slowly, skim frequently, and add dumplings mixed of flour, +baking-powder, and a little lard. Or you can roast him in your Dutch +oven with your ducks. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps it might be well here to explain the Dutch oven. It is a heavy +iron kettle with little legs and an iron cover. The theory of it is +that coals go among the little legs and on top of the iron cover. This +heats the inside, and so cooking results. That, you will observe, is +the theory. +</P> + +<P> +In practice you will have to remember a good many things. In the first +place, while other affairs are preparing, lay the cover on the fire to +heat it through; but not on too hot a place nor too long, lest it warp +and so fit loosely. Also the oven itself is to be heated through, and +well greased. Your first baking will undoubtedly be burned on the +bottom. It is almost impossible without many trials to understand just +how little heat suffices underneath. Sometimes it seems that the +warmed earth where the fire has been is enough. And on top you do not +want a bonfire. A nice even heat, and patience, are the proper +ingredients. Nor drop into the error of letting your bread chill, and +so fall to unpalatable heaviness. Probably for some time you will +alternate between the extremes of heavy crusts with doughy insides, and +white weighty boiler-plate with no distinguishable crusts at all. +Above all, do not lift the lid too often for the sake of taking a look. +Have faith. +</P> + +<P> +There are other ways of baking bread. In the North Country forests, +where you carry everything on your back, you will do it in the +frying-pan. The mixture should be a rather thick batter or a rather +thin dough. It is turned into the frying-pan and baked first on one +side, then on the other, the pan being propped on edge facing the fire. +The whole secret of success is first to set your pan horizontal and +about three feet from the fire in order that the mixture may be +thoroughly warmed—not heated—before the pan is propped on edge. +Still another way of baking is in a reflector oven of tin. This is +highly satisfactory, provided the oven is built on the scientific +angles to throw the heat evenly on all parts of the bread-pan and +equally on top and bottom. It is not so easy as you might imagine to +get a good one made. These reflectors are all right for a permanent +camp, but too fragile for transportation on pack-animals. +</P> + +<P> +As for bread, try it unleavened once in a while by way of change. It +is really very good,—just salt, water, flour, and a very little sugar. +For those who like their bread "all crust," it is especially toothsome. +The usual camp bread that I have found the most successful has been in +the proportion of two cups of flour to a teaspoonful of salt, one of +sugar, and three of baking-powder. Sugar or cinnamon sprinkled on top +is sometimes pleasant. Test by thrusting a splinter into the loaf. If +dough adheres to the wood, the bread is not done. Biscuits are made by +using twice as much baking-powder and about two tablespoonfuls of lard +for shortening. They bake much more quickly than the bread. +Johnny-cake you mix of corn-meal three cups, flour one cup, sugar four +spoonfuls, salt one spoonful, baking-powder four spoonfuls, and lard +twice as much as for biscuits. It also is good, very good. +</P> + +<P> +The flapjack is first cousin to bread, very palatable, and extremely +indigestible when made of flour, as is ordinarily done. However, the +self-raising buckwheat flour makes an excellent flapjack, which is +likewise good for your insides. The batter is rather thin, is poured +into the piping hot greased pan, "flipped" when brown on one side, and +eaten with larrupy-dope or brown gravy. +</P> + +<P> +When you come to consider potatoes and beans and onions and such +matters, remember one thing: that in the higher altitudes water boils +at a low temperature, and that therefore you must not expect your +boiled food to cook very rapidly. In fact, you'd better leave beans at +home. We did. Potatoes you can sometimes tease along by quartering +them. +</P> + +<P> +Rolled oats are better than oatmeal. Put them in plenty of water and +boil down to the desired consistency. In lack of cream you will +probably want it rather soft. +</P> + +<P> +Put your coffee into cold water, bring to a boil, let boil for about +two minutes, and immediately set off. Settle by letting a half cup of +cold water flow slowly into the pot from the height of a foot or so. +If your utensils are clean, you will surely have good coffee by this +simple method. Of course you will never boil your tea. +</P> + +<P> +The sun was nearly down when we raised our long yell. The cow-puncher +promptly responded. We ate. Then we smoked. Then we basely left all +our dishes until the morrow, and followed our cow-puncher to his log +cabin, where we were to spend the evening. +</P> + +<P> +By now it was dark, and a bitter cold swooped down from the mountains. +We built a fire in a huge stone fireplace and sat around in the +flickering light telling ghost-stories to one another. The place was +rudely furnished, with only a hard earthen floor, and chairs hewn by +the axe. Rifles, spurs, bits, revolvers, branding-irons in turn caught +the light and vanished in the shadow. The skin of a bear looked at us +from hollow eye-sockets in which there were no eyes. We talked of the +Long Trail. Outside the wind, rising, howled through the shakes of the +roof. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] Camp-lingo for any kind of syrup. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ON THE WIND AT NIGHT +</H3> + +<P> +The winds were indeed abroad that night. They rattled our cabin, they +shrieked in our eaves, they puffed down our chimney, scattering the +ashes and leaving in the room a balloon of smoke as though a shell had +burst. When we opened the door and stepped out, after our good-nights +had been said, it caught at our hats and garments as though it had been +lying in wait for us. +</P> + +<P> +To our eyes, fire-dazzled, the night seemed very dark. There would be +a moon later, but at present even the stars seemed only so many +pinpoints of dull metal, lustreless, without illumination. We felt our +way to camp, conscious of the softness of grasses, the uncertainty of +stones. +</P> + +<P> +At camp the remains of the fire crouched beneath the rating of the +storm. Its embers glowed sullen and red, alternately glaring with a +half-formed resolution to rebel, and dying to a sulky resignation. +Once a feeble flame sprang up for an instant, but was immediately +pounced on and beaten flat as though by a vigilant antagonist. +</P> + +<P> +We, stumbling, gathered again our tumbled blankets. Across the brow of +the knoll lay a huge pine trunk. In its shelter we respread our +bedding, and there, standing, dressed for the night. The power of the +wind tugged at our loose garments, hoping for spoil. A towel, shaken +by accident from the interior of a sweater, departed white-winged, like +a bird, into the outer blackness. We found it next day caught in the +bushes several hundred yards distant. Our voices as we shouted were +snatched from our lips and hurled lavishly into space. The very breath +of our bodies seemed driven back, so that as we faced the elements, we +breathed in gasps, with difficulty. +</P> + +<P> +Then we dropped down into our blankets. +</P> + +<P> +At once the prostrate tree-trunk gave us its protection. We lay in a +little back-wash of the racing winds, still as a night in June. Over +us roared the battle. We felt like sharpshooters in the trenches; as +though, were we to raise our heads, at that instant we should enter a +zone of danger. So we lay quietly on our backs and stared at the +heavens. +</P> + +<P> +The first impression thence given was of stars sailing serene and +unaffected, remote from the turbulence of what until this instant had +seemed to fill the universe. They were as always, just as we should +see them when the evening was warm and the tree-toads chirped clearly +audible at half a mile. The importance of the tempest shrank. Then +below them next we noticed the mountains; they too were serene and calm. +</P> + +<P> +Immediately it was as though the storm were an hallucination; something +not objective; something real, but within the soul of him who looked +upon it. It claimed sudden kinship with those blackest days when +nevertheless the sun, the mere external unimportant sun, shines with +superlative brilliancy. Emotions of a power to shake the foundations +of life seemed vaguely to stir in answer to these their hollow symbols. +For after all, we were contented at heart and tranquil in mind, and +this was but the outer gorgeous show of an intense emotional experience +we did not at the moment prove. Our nerves responded to it +automatically. We became excited, keyed to a high tension, and so lay +rigid on our backs, as though fighting out the battles of our souls. +</P> + +<P> +It was all so unreal and yet so plain to our senses that perforce +automatically our experience had to conclude it psychical. We were in +air absolutely still. Yet above us the trees writhed and twisted and +turned and bent and struck back, evidently in the power of a mighty +force. Across the calm heavens the murk of flying atmosphere—I have +always maintained that if you looked closely enough you could SEE the +wind—the dim, hardly-made-out, fine debris fleeing high in the +air;—these faintly hinted at intense movement rushing down through +space. A roar of sound filled the hollow of the sky. Occasionally it +intermitted, falling abruptly in volume like the mysterious rare +hushings of a rapid stream. Then the familiar noises of a summer night +became audible for the briefest instant,—a horse sneezed, an owl +hooted, the wild call of birds came down the wind. And with a howl the +legions of good and evil took up their warring. It was too real, and +yet it was not reconcilable with the calm of our resting-places. +</P> + +<P> +For hours we lay thus in all the intensity of an inner storm and +stress, which it seemed could not fail to develop us, to mould us, to +age us, to leave on us its scars, to bequeath us its peace or remorse +or despair, as would some great mysterious dark experience direct from +the sources of life. And then abruptly we were exhausted, as we should +have been by too great emotion. We fell asleep. The morning dawned +still and clear, and garnished and set in order as though such things +had never been. Only our white towel fluttered like a flag of truce in +the direction the mighty elements had departed. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE VALLEY +</H3> + +<P> +Once upon a time I happened to be staying in a hotel room which had +originally been part of a suite, but which was then cut off from the +others by only a thin door through which sounds carried clearly. It +was about eleven o'clock in the evening. The occupants of that next +room came home. I heard the door open and close. Then the bed +shrieked aloud as somebody fell heavily upon it. There breathed across +the silence a deep restful sigh. +</P> + +<P> +"Mary," said a man's voice, "I'm mighty sorry I didn't join that +Association for Artificial Vacations. They guarantee to get you just as +tired and just as mad in two days as you could by yourself in two +weeks." +</P> + +<P> +We thought of that one morning as we descended the Glacier Point Trail +in Yosemite. +</P> + +<P> +The contrast we need not have made so sharp. We might have taken the +regular wagon-road by way of Chinquapin, but we preferred to stick to +the trail, and so encountered our first sign of civilization within an +hundred yards of the brink. It, the sign, was tourists. They were +male and female, as the Lord had made them, but they had improved on +that idea since. The women were freckled, hatted with alpines, in +which edelweiss—artificial, I think—flowered in abundance; they +sported severely plain flannel shirts, bloomers of an aggressive and +unnecessary cut, and enormous square boots weighing pounds. The men +had on hats just off the sunbonnet effect, pleated Norfolk jackets, +bloomers ditto ditto to the women, stockings whose tops rolled over +innumerable times to help out the size of that which they should have +contained, and also enormous square boots. The female children they +put in skin-tight blue overalls. The male children they dressed in +bloomers. Why this should be I cannot tell you. All carried toy +hatchets with a spike on one end built to resemble the pictures of +alpenstocks. +</P> + +<P> +They looked business-like, trod with an assured air of veterans and a +seeming of experience more extended than it was possible to pack into +any one human life. We stared at them, our eyes bulging out. They +painfully and evidently concealed a curiosity as to our pack-train. We +wished them good-day, in order to see to what language heaven had +fitted their extraordinary ideas as regards raiment. They inquired the +way to something or other—I think Sentinel Dome. We had just arrived, +so we did not know, but in order to show a friendly spirit we blandly +pointed out A way. It may have led to Sentinel Dome for all I know. +They departed uttering thanks in human speech. +</P> + +<P> +Now this particular bunch of tourists was evidently staying at the +Glacier Point, and so was fresh. But in the course of that morning we +descended straight down a drop of, is it four thousand feet? The trail +was steep and long and without water. During the descent we passed +first and last probably twoscore of tourists, all on foot. A good half +of them were delicate women,—young, middle-aged, a few gray-haired and +evidently upwards of sixty. There were also old men, and fat men, and +men otherwise out of condition. Probably nine out of ten, counting in +the entire outfit, were utterly unaccustomed, when at home where grow +street-cars and hansoms, to even the mildest sort of exercise. They +had come into the Valley, whose floor is over four thousand feet up, +without the slightest physical preparation for the altitude. They had +submitted to the fatigue of a long and dusty stage journey. And then +they had merrily whooped it up at a gait which would have appalled +seasoned old stagers like ourselves. Those blessed lunatics seemed +positively unhappy unless they climbed up to some new point of view +every day. I have never seen such a universally tired out, frazzled, +vitally exhausted, white-faced, nervous community in my life as I did +during our four days' stay in the Valley. Then probably they go away, +and take a month to get over it, and have queer residual impressions of +the trip. I should like to know what those impressions really are. +</P> + +<P> +Not but that Nature has done everything in her power to oblige them. +The things I am about to say are heresy, but I hold them true. +</P> + +<P> +Yosemite is not as interesting nor as satisfying to me as some of the +other big box caņons, like those of the Tehipite, the Kings in its +branches, or the Kaweah. I will admit that its waterfalls are better. +Otherwise it possesses no features which are not to be seen in its +sister valleys. And there is this difference. In Yosemite everything +is jumbled together, apparently for the benefit of the tourist with a +linen duster and but three days' time at his disposal. He can turn +from the cliff-headland to the dome, from the dome to the half dome, to +the glacier formation, the granite slide and all the rest of it, with +hardly the necessity of stirring his feet. Nature has put samples of +all her works here within reach of his cataloguing vision. Everything +is crowded in together, like a row of houses in forty-foot lots. The +mere things themselves are here in profusion and wonder, but the +appropriate spacing, the approach, the surrounding of subordinate +detail which should lead in artistic gradation to the supreme +feature—these things, which are a real and essential part of esthetic +effect, are lacking utterly for want of room. The place is not natural +scenery; it is a junk-shop, a storehouse, a sample-room wherein the +elements of natural scenery are to be viewed. It is not an arrangement +of effects in accordance with the usual laws of landscape, but an +abnormality, a freak of Nature. +</P> + +<P> +All these things are to be found elsewhere. There are cliffs which to +the naked eye are as grand as El Capitan; domes, half domes, peaks as +noble as any to be seen in the Valley; sheer drops as breath-taking as +that from Glacier Point. But in other places each of these is led up +to appropriately, and stands the central and satisfying feature to +which all other things look. Then you journey on from your cliff, or +whatever it happens to be, until, at just the right distance, so that +it gains from the presence of its neighbor without losing from its +proximity, a dome or a pinnacle takes to itself the right of +prominence. I concede the waterfalls; but in other respects I prefer +the sister valleys. +</P> + +<P> +That is not to say that one should not visit Yosemite; nor that one +will be disappointed. It is grand beyond any possible human belief; +and no one, even a nerve-frazzled tourist, can gaze on it without the +strongest emotion. Only it is not so intimately satisfying as it +should be. It is a show. You do not take it into your heart. "Whew!" +you cry. "Isn't that a wonder!" then after a moment, "Looks just like +the photographs. Up to sample. Now let's go." +</P> + +<P> +As we descended the trail, we and the tourists aroused in each other a +mutual interest. One husband was trying to encourage his young and +handsome wife to go on. She was beautifully dressed for the part in a +marvelous, becoming costume of whipcord—short skirt, high laced +elkskin boots and the rest of it; but in all her magnificence she had +sat down on the ground, her back to the cliff, her legs across the +trail, and was so tired out that she could hardly muster interest +enough to pull them in out of the way of our horses' hoofs. The man +inquired anxiously of us how far it was to the top. Now it was a long +distance to the top, but a longer to the bottom, so we lied a lie that +I am sure was immediately forgiven us, and told them it was only a +short climb. I should have offered them the use of Bullet, but Bullet +had come far enough, and this was only one of a dozen such cases. In +marked contrast was a jolly white-haired clergyman of the bishop type +who climbed vigorously and hailed us with a shout. +</P> + +<P> +The horses were decidedly unaccustomed to any such sights, and we +sometimes had our hands full getting them by on the narrow way. The +trail was safe enough, but it did have an edge, and that edge jumped +pretty straight off. It was interesting to observe how the tourists +acted. Some of them were perfect fools, and we had more trouble with +them than we did with the horses. They could not seem to get the +notion into their heads that all we wanted them to do was to get on the +inside and stand still. About half of them were terrified to death, so +that at the crucial moment, just as a horse was passing them, they had +little fluttering panics that called the beast's attention. Most of +the remainder tried to be bold and help. They reached out the hand of +assistance toward the halter rope; the astonished animal promptly +snorted, tried to turn around, cannoned against the next in line. Then +there was a mix-up. Two tall clean-cut well-bred looking girls of our +slim patrician type offered us material assistance. They seemed to +understand horses, and got out of the way in the proper manner, did +just the right thing, and made sensible suggestions. I offer them my +homage. +</P> + +<P> +They spoke to us as though they had penetrated the disguise of long +travel, and could see we were not necessarily members of Burt Alvord's +gang. This phase too of our descent became increasingly interesting to +us, a species of gauge by which we measured the perceptions of those we +encountered. Most did not speak to us at all. Others responded to our +greetings with a reserve in which was more than a tinge of distrust. +Still others patronized us. A very few overlooked our faded flannel +shirts, our soiled trousers, our floppy old hats with their rattlesnake +bands, the wear and tear of our equipment, to respond to us heartily. +Them in return we generally perceived to belong to our totem. +</P> + +<P> +We found the floor of the Valley well sprinkled with campers. They had +pitched all kinds of tents; built all kinds of fancy permanent +conveniences; erected all kinds of banners and signs advertising their +identity, and were generally having a nice, easy, healthful, jolly kind +of a time up there in the mountains. Their outfits they had either +brought in with their own wagons, or had had freighted. The store near +the bend of the Merced supplied all their needs. It was truly a +pleasant sight to see so many people enjoying themselves, for they were +mostly those in moderate circumstances to whom a trip on tourist lines +would be impossible. We saw bakers' and grocers' and butchers' wagons +that had been pressed into service. A man, his wife, and little baby +had come in an ordinary buggy, the one horse of which, led by the man, +carried the woman and baby to the various points of interest. +</P> + +<P> +We reported to the official in charge, were allotted a camping and +grazing place, and proceeded to make ourselves at home. +</P> + +<P> +During the next two days we rode comfortably here and there and looked +at things. The things could not be spoiled, but their effect was very +materially marred by the swarms of tourists. Sometimes they were +silly, and cracked inane and obvious jokes in ridicule of the grandest +objects they had come so far to see; sometimes they were detestable and +left their insignificant calling-cards or their unimportant names where +nobody could ever have any object in reading them; sometimes they were +pathetic and helpless and had to have assistance; sometimes they were +amusing; hardly ever did they seem entirely human. I wonder what there +is about the traveling public that seems so to set it apart, to make of +it at least a sub-species of mankind? +</P> + +<P> +Among other things, we were vastly interested in the guides. They were +typical of this sort of thing. Each morning one of these men took a +pleasantly awe-stricken band of tourists out, led them around in the +brush awhile, and brought them back in time for lunch. They wore broad +hats and leather bands and exotic raiment and fierce expressions, and +looked dark and mysterious and extra-competent over the most trivial of +difficulties. +</P> + +<P> +Nothing could be more instructive than to see two or three of these +imitation bad men starting out in the morning to "guide" a flock, say +to Nevada Falls. The tourists, being about to mount, have outdone +themselves in weird and awesome clothes—especially the women. Nine +out of ten wear their stirrups too short, so their knees are hunched +up. One guide rides at the head—great deal of silver spur, clanking +chain, and the rest of it. Another rides in the rear. The third rides +up and down the line, very gruff, very preoccupied, very careworn over +the dangers of the way. The cavalcade moves. It proceeds for about a +mile. There arise sudden cries, great but subdued excitement. The +leader stops, raising a commanding hand. Guide number three gallops +up. There is a consultation. The cinch-strap of the brindle shave-tail +is taken up two inches. A catastrophe has been averted. The noble +three look volumes of relief. The cavalcade moves again. +</P> + +<P> +Now the trail rises. It is a nice, safe, easy trail. But to the +tourists it is made terrible. The noble three see to that. They pass +more dangers by the exercise of superhuman skill than you or I could +discover in a summer's close search. The joke of the matter is that +those forty-odd saddle-animals have been over that trail so many times +that one would have difficulty in heading them off from it once they +got started. +</P> + +<P> +Very much the same criticism would hold as to the popular notion of the +Yosemite stage-drivers. They drive well, and seem efficient men. But +their wonderful reputation would have to be upheld on rougher roads +than those into the Valley. The tourist is, of course, encouraged to +believe that he is doing the hair-breadth escape; but in reality, as +mountain travel goes, the Yosemite stage-road is very mild. +</P> + +<P> +This that I have been saying is not by way of depreciation. But it +seems to me that the Valley is wonderful enough to stand by itself in +men's appreciation without the unreality of sickly sentimentalism in +regard to imaginary dangers, or the histrionics of playing wilderness +where no wilderness exists. +</P> + +<P> +As we went out, this time by the Chinquapin wagon-road, we met one +stage-load after another of tourists coming in. They had not yet +donned the outlandish attire they believe proper to the occasion, and +so showed for what they were,—prosperous, well-bred, well-dressed +travelers. In contrast to their smartness, the brilliancy of +new-painted stages, the dash of the horses maintained by the Yosemite +Stage Company, our own dusty travel-worn outfit of mountain ponies, our +own rough clothes patched and faded, our sheath-knives and firearms +seemed out of place and curious, as though a knight in medieval armor +were to ride down Broadway. +</P> + +<P> +I do not know how many stages there were. We turned our pack-horses +out for them all, dashing back and forth along the line, coercing the +diabolical Dinkey. The road was too smooth. There were no +obstructions to surmount; no dangers to avert; no difficulties to +avoid. We could not get into trouble, but proceeded as on a county +turnpike. Too tame, too civilized, too representative of the tourist +element, it ended by getting on our nerves. The wilderness seemed to +have left us forever. Never would we get back to our own again. After +a long time Wes, leading, turned into our old trail branching off to +the high country. Hardly had we traveled a half mile before we heard +from the advance guard a crash and a shout. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, Wes?" we yelled. +</P> + +<P> +In a moment the reply came,— +</P> + +<P> +"Lily's fallen down again,—thank God!" +</P> + +<P> +We understood what he meant. By this we knew that the tourist zone was +crossed, that we had left the show country, and were once more in the +open. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE MAIN CREST +</H3> + +<P> +The traveler in the High Sierras generally keeps to the west of the +main crest. Sometimes he approaches fairly to the foot of the last +slope; sometimes he angles away and away even down to what finally +seems to him a lower country,—to the pine mountains of only five or +six thousand feet. But always to the left or right of him, according +to whether he travels south or north, runs the rampart of the system, +sometimes glittering with snow, sometimes formidable and rugged with +splinters and spires of granite. He crosses spurs and tributary ranges +as high, as rugged, as snow-clad as these. They do not quite satisfy +him. Over beyond he thinks he ought to see something great,—some wide +outlook, some space bluer than his trail can offer him. One day or +another he clamps his decision, and so turns aside for the simple and +only purpose of standing on the top of the world. +</P> + +<P> +We were bitten by that idea while crossing the Granite Basin. The +latter is some ten thousand feet in the air, a cup of rock five or six +miles across, surrounded by mountains much higher than itself. That +would have been sufficient for most moods, but, resting on the edge of +a pass ten thousand six hundred feet high, we concluded that we surely +would have to look over into Nevada. +</P> + +<P> +We got out the map. It became evident, after a little study, that by +descending six thousand feet into a box caņon, proceeding in it a few +miles, and promptly climbing out again, by climbing steadily up the +long narrow course of another box caņon for about a day and a half's +journey, and then climbing out of that to a high ridge country with +little flat valleys, we would come to a wide lake in a meadow eleven +thousand feet up. There we could camp. The mountain opposite was +thirteen thousand three hundred and twenty feet, so the climb from the +lake became merely a matter of computation. This, we figured, would +take us just a week, which may seem a considerable time to sacrifice to +the gratification of a whim. But such a glorious whim! +</P> + +<P> +We descended the great box caņon, and scaled its upper end, following +near the voices of a cascade. Cliffs thousands of feet high hemmed us +in. At the very top of them strange crags leaned out looking down on +us in the abyss. From a projection a colossal sphinx gazed solemnly +across at a dome as smooth and symmetrical as, but vastly larger than, +St. Peter's at Rome. +</P> + +<P> +The trail labored up to the brink of the cascade. At once we entered a +long narrow aisle between regular palisaded cliffs. +</P> + +<P> +The formation was exceedingly regular. At the top the precipice fell +sheer for a thousand feet or so; then the steep slant of the debris, +like buttresses, down almost to the bed of the river. The lower parts +of the buttresses were clothed with heavy chaparral, which, nearer +moisture, developed into cottonwoods, alders, tangled vines, flowers, +rank grasses. And away on the very edge of the cliffs, close under the +sky, were pines, belittled by distance, solemn and aloof, like Indian +warriors wrapped in their blankets watching from an eminence the +passage of a hostile force. +</P> + +<P> +We caught rainbow trout in the dashing white torrent of the river. We +followed the trail through delicious thickets redolent with perfume; +over the roughest granite slides, along still dark aisles of forest +groves, between the clefts of boulders so monstrous as almost to seem +an insult to the credulity. Among the chaparral, on the slope of the +buttress across the river, we made out a bear feeding. Wes and I sat +ten minutes waiting for him to show sufficiently for a chance. Then we +took a shot at about four hundred yards, and hit him somewhere so he +angled down the hill furiously. We left the Tenderfoot to watch that +he did not come out of the big thicket of the river bottom where last +we had seen him, while we scrambled upstream nearly a mile looking for +a way across. Then we trailed him by the blood, each step one of +suspense, until we fairly had to crawl in after him; and shot him five +times more, three in the head, before he gave up not six feet from us; +and shouted gloriously and skinned that bear. But the meat was badly +bloodshot, for there were three bullets in the head, two in the chest +and shoulders, one through the paunch, and one in the hind quarters. +</P> + +<P> +Since we were much in want of meat, this grieved us. But that noon +while we ate, the horses ran down toward us, and wheeled, as though in +cavalry formation, looking toward the hill and snorting. So I put down +my tin plate gently, and took up my rifle, and without rising shot that +bear through the back of the neck. We took his skin, and also his hind +quarters, and went on. +</P> + +<P> +By the third day from Granite Basin we reached the end of the long +narrow caņon with the high cliffs and the dark pine-trees and the very +blue sky. Therefore we turned sharp to the left and climbed laboriously +until we had come up into the land of big boulders, strange spare +twisted little trees, and the singing of the great wind. +</P> + +<P> +The country here was mainly of granite. It out-cropped in dikes, it +slid down the slopes in aprons, it strewed the prospect in boulders and +blocks, it seamed the hollows with knife-ridges. Soil gave the +impression of having been laid on top; you divined the granite beneath +it, and not so very far beneath it, either. A fine hair-grass grew +close to this soil, as though to produce as many blades as possible in +the limited area. +</P> + +<P> +But strangest of all were the little thick twisted trees with the rich +shaded umber color of their trunks. They occurred rarely, but still in +sufficient regularity to lend the impression of a scattered +grove-cohesiveness. Their limbs were sturdy and reaching fantastically. +On each trunk the colors ran in streaks, patches, and gradations from a +sulphur yellow, through browns and red-orange, to a rich red-umber. +They were like the earth-dwarfs of German legend, come out to view the +roof of their workshop in the interior of the hill; or, more subtly, +like some of the more fantastic engravings of Gustave Dore. +</P> + +<P> +We camped that night at a lake whose banks were pebbled in the manner +of an artificial pond, and whose setting was a thin meadow of the fine +hair-grass, for the grazing of which the horses had to bare their +teeth. All about, the granite mountains rose. The timber-line, even of +the rare shrub-like gnome-trees, ceased here. Above us was nothing +whatever but granite rock, snow, and the sky. +</P> + +<P> +It was just before dusk, and in the lake the fish were jumping eagerly. +They took the fly well, and before the fire was alight we had caught +three for supper. When I say we caught but three, you will understand +that they were of good size. Firewood was scarce, but we dragged in +enough by means of Old Slob and a riata to build us a good fire. And +we needed it, for the cold descended on us with the sharpness and vigor +of eleven thousand feet. +</P> + +<P> +For such an altitude the spot was ideal. The lake just below us was +full of fish. A little stream ran from it by our very elbows. The +slight elevation was level, and covered with enough soil to offer a +fairly good substructure for our beds. The flat in which was the lake +reached on up narrower and narrower to the foot of the last slope, +furnishing for the horses an admirable natural corral about a mile +long. And the view was magnificent. +</P> + +<P> +First of all there were the mountains above us, towering grandly serene +against the sky of morning; then all about us the tumultuous slabs and +boulders and blocks of granite among which dare-devil and hardy little +trees clung to a footing as though in defiance of some great force +exerted against them; then below us a sheer drop, into which our brook +plunged, with its suggestion of depths; and finally beyond those depths +the giant peaks of the highest Sierras rising lofty as the sky, +shrouded in a calm and stately peace. +</P> + +<P> +Next day the Tenderfoot and I climbed to the top. Wes decided at the +last minute that he hadn't lost any mountains, and would prefer to fish. +</P> + +<P> +The ascent was accompanied by much breathlessness and a heavy pounding +of our hearts, so that we were forced to stop every twenty feet to +recover our physical balance. Each step upward dragged at our feet +like a leaden weight. Yet once we were on the level, or once we ceased +our very real exertions for a second or so, the difficulty left us, and +we breathed as easily as in the lower altitudes. +</P> + +<P> +The air itself was of a quality impossible to describe to you unless +you have traveled in the high countries. I know it is trite to say +that it had the exhilaration of wine, yet I can find no better simile. +We shouted and whooped and breathed deep and wanted to do things. +</P> + +<P> +The immediate surroundings of that mountain peak were absolutely barren +and absolutely still. How it was accomplished so high up I do not know, +but the entire structure on which we moved—I cannot say walked—was +composed of huge granite slabs. Sometimes these were laid side by side +like exaggerated paving flags; but oftener they were up-ended, piled in +a confusion over which we had precariously to scramble. And the +silence. It was so still that the very ringing in our ears came to a +prominence absurd and almost terrifying. The wind swept by noiseless, +because it had nothing movable to startle into noise. The solid +eternal granite lay heavy in its statics across the possibility of even +a whisper. The blue vault of heaven seemed emptied of sound. +</P> + +<P> +But the wind did stream by unceasingly, weird in the unaccustomedness +of its silence. And the sky was blue as a turquoise, and the sun +burned fiercely, and the air was cold as the water of a mountain spring. +</P> + +<P> +We stretched ourselves behind a slab of granite, and ate the luncheon +we had brought, cold venison steak and bread. By and by a marvelous +thing happened. A flash of wings sparkled in the air, a brave little +voice challenged us cheerily, a pert tiny rock-wren flirted his tail +and darted his wings and wanted to know what we were thinking of anyway +to enter his especial territory. And shortly from nowhere appeared two +Canada Jays, silent as the wind itself, hoping for a share in our meal. +Then the Tenderfoot discovered in a niche some strange, hardy alpine +flowers. So we established a connection, through these wondrous brave +children of the great mother, with the world of living things. +</P> + +<P> +After we had eaten, which was the very first thing we did, we walked to +the edge of the main crest and looked over. That edge went straight +down. I do not know how far, except that even in contemplation we +entirely lost our breaths, before we had fallen half way to the bottom. +Then intervened a ledge, and in the ledge was a round glacier lake of +the very deepest and richest ultramarine you can find among your +paint-tubes, and on the lake floated cakes of dazzling white ice. That +was enough for the moment. +</P> + +<P> +Next we leaped at one bound direct down to some brown hazy liquid shot +with the tenderest filaments of white. After analysis we discovered +the hazy brown liquid to be the earth of the plains, and the filaments +of white to be roads. Thus instructed we made out specks which were +towns. That was all. +</P> + +<P> +The rest was too insignificant to classify without the aid of a +microscope. +</P> + +<P> +And afterwards, across those plains, oh, many, many leagues, were the +Inyo and Panamit mountains, and beyond them Nevada and Arizona, and +blue mountains, and bluer, and still bluer rising, rising, rising +higher and higher until at the level of the eye they blended with the +heavens and were lost somewhere away out beyond the edge of the world. +</P> + +<P> +We said nothing, but looked for a long time. Then we turned inland to +the wonderful great titans of mountains clear-cut in the crystalline +air. Never was such air. Crystalline is the only word which will +describe it, for almost it seemed that it would ring clearly when +struck, so sparkling and delicate and fragile was it. The crags and +fissures across the way—two miles across the way—were revealed +through it as through some medium whose transparence was absolute. +They challenged the eye, stereoscopic in their relief. Were it not for +the belittling effects of the distance, we felt that we might count the +frost seams or the glacial scorings on every granite apron. Far below +we saw the irregular outline of our lake. It looked like a pond a few +hundred feet down. Then we made out a pin-point of white moving +leisurely near its border. After a while we realized that the +pin-point of white was one of our pack-horses, and immediately the flat +little scene shot backwards as though moved from behind and +acknowledged its due number of miles. The miniature crags at its back +became gigantic; the peaks beyond grew thousands of feet in the +establishment of a proportion which the lack of "atmosphere" had +denied. We never succeeded in getting adequate photographs. As well +take pictures of any eroded little arroyo or granite caņon. Relative +sizes do not exist, unless pointed out. +</P> + +<P> +"See that speck there?" we explain. "That's a big pine-tree. So by +that you can see how tremendous those cliffs really are." +</P> + +<P> +And our guest looks incredulously at the speck. +</P> + +<P> +There was snow, of course, lying cold in the hot sun. This phenomenon +always impresses a man when first he sees it. Often I have ridden with +my sleeves rolled up and the front of my shirt open, over drifts whose +edges, even, dripped no water. The direct rays seem to have absolutely +no effect. A scientific explanation I have never heard expressed; but +I suppose the cold nights freeze the drifts and pack them so hard that +the short noon heat cannot penetrate their density. I may be quite +wrong as to my reason, but I am entirely correct as to my fact. +</P> + +<P> +Another curious thing is that we met our mosquitoes only rarely below +the snow-line. The camping in the Sierras is ideal for lack of these +pests. They never bite hard nor stay long even when found. But just +as sure as we approached snow, then we renewed acquaintance with our +old friends of the north woods. +</P> + +<P> +It is analogous to the fact that the farther north you go into the fur +countries, the more abundant they become. +</P> + +<P> +By and by it was time to descend. The camp lay directly below us. We +decided to go to it straight, and so stepped off on an impossibly steep +slope covered, not with the great boulders and granite blocks, but with +a fine loose shale. At every stride we stepped ten feet and slid five. +It was gloriously near to flying. Leaning far back, our arms spread +wide to keep our balance, spying alertly far ahead as to where we were +going to land, utterly unable to check until we encountered a +half-buried ledge of some sort, and shouting wildly at every plunge, we +fairly shot downhill. The floor of our valley rose to us as the earth +to a descending balloon. In three quarters of an hour we had reached +the first flat. +</P> + +<P> +There we halted to puzzle over the trail of a mountain lion clearly +printed on the soft ground. What had the great cat been doing away up +there above the hunting country, above cover, above everything that +would appeal to a well-regulated cat of any size whatsoever? We +theorized at length, but gave it up finally, and went on. Then a +familiar perfume rose to our nostrils. We plucked curiously at a bed +of catnip and wondered whether the animal had journeyed so far to enjoy +what is always such a treat to her domestic sisters. +</P> + +<P> +It was nearly dark when we reached camp. We found Wes contentedly +scraping away at the bearskins. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello," said he, looking up with a grin. "Hello, you dam fools! I'VE +been having a good time. I've been fishing." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE GIANT FOREST +</H3> + +<P> +Every one is familiar, at least by reputation and photograph, with the +Big Trees of California. All have seen pictures of stage-coaches +driving in passageways cut through the bodies of the trunks; of troops +of cavalry ridden on the prostrate trees. No one but has heard of the +dancing-floor or the dinner-table cut from a single cross-section; and +probably few but have seen some of the fibrous bark of unbelievable +thickness. The Mariposa, Calaveras, and Santa Cruz groves have become +household names. +</P> + +<P> +The public at large, I imagine, meaning by that you and me and our +neighbors, harbor an idea that the Big Tree occurs only as a remnant, +in scattered little groves carefully fenced and piously visited by the +tourist. What would we have said to the information that in the very +heart of the Sierras there grows a thriving forest of these great +trees; that it takes over a day to ride throughout that forest; and +that it comprises probably over five thousand specimens? +</P> + +<P> +Yet such is the case. On the ridges and high plateaus north of the +Kaweah River is the forest I describe; and of that forest the trees +grow from fifteen to twenty-six feet in diameter. Do you know what +that means? Get up from your chair and pace off the room you are in. +If it is a very big room, its longest dimension would just about +contain one of the bigger trunks. Try to imagine a tree like that. +</P> + +<P> +It must be a columnar tree straight and true as the supports of a Greek +facade. The least deviation from the perpendicular of such a mass +would cause it to fall. The limbs are sturdy like the arms of +Hercules, and grow out from the main trunk direct instead of dividing +and leading that main trunk to themselves, as is the case with other +trees. The column rises with a true taper to its full height; then is +finished with the conical effect of the top of a monument. Strangely +enough the frond is exceedingly fine, and the cones small. +</P> + +<P> +When first you catch sight of a Sequoia, it does not impress you +particularly except as a very fine tree. Its proportions are so +perfect that its effect is rather to belittle its neighbors than to +show in its true magnitude. Then, gradually, as your experience takes +cognizance of surroundings,—the size of a sugar-pine, of a boulder, of +a stream flowing near,—the giant swells and swells before your very +vision until he seems at the last even greater than the mere statistics +of his inches had led you to believe. And after that first surprise +over finding the Sequoia something not monstrous but beautiful in +proportion has given place to the full realization of what you are +beholding, you will always wonder why no one who has seen has ever +given any one who has not seen an adequate idea of these magnificent +old trees. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps the most insistent note, besides that of mere size and dignity, +is of absolute stillness. These trees do not sway to the wind, their +trunks are constructed to stand solid. Their branches do not bend and +murmur, for they too are rigid in fiber. Their fine thread-like +needles may catch the breeze's whisper, may draw together and apart for +the exchange of confidences as do the leaves of other trees, but if so, +you and I are too far below to distinguish it. All about, the other +forest growths may be rustling and bowing and singing with the voices +of the air; the Sequoia stands in the hush of an absolute calm. It is +as though he dreamed, too wrapt in still great thoughts of his youth, +when the earth itself was young, to share the worldlier joys of his +neighbor, to be aware of them, even himself to breathe deeply. You feel +in the presence of these trees as you would feel in the presence of a +kindly and benignant sage, too occupied with larger things to enter +fully into your little affairs, but well disposed in the wisdom of +clear spiritual insight. +</P> + +<P> +This combination of dignity, immobility, and a certain serene +detachment has on me very much the same effect as does a mountain +against the sky. It is quite unlike the impression made by any other +tree, however large, and is lovable. +</P> + +<P> +We entered the Giant Forest by a trail that climbed. Always we entered +desirable places by trails that climbed or dropped. Our access to +paradise was never easy. About halfway up we met five pack-mules and +two men coming down. For some reason, unknown, I suspect, even to the +god of chance, our animals behaved themselves and walked straight ahead +in a beautiful dignity, while those weak-minded mules scattered and +bucked and scraped under trees and dragged back on their halters when +caught. The two men cast on us malevolent glances as often as they +were able, but spent most of their time swearing and running about. We +helped them once or twice by heading off, but were too thankfully +engaged in treading lightly over our own phenomenal peace to pay much +attention. Long after we had gone on, we caught bursts of rumpus +ascending from below. Shortly we came to a comparatively level +country, and a little meadow, and a rough sign which read +</P> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +"Feed 20C a night." +</H4> + +<BR> + +<P> +Just beyond this extortion was the Giant Forest. +</P> + +<P> +We entered it toward the close of the afternoon, and rode on after our +wonted time looking for feed at less than twenty cents a night. The +great trunks, fluted like marble columns, blackened against the western +sky. As they grew huger, we seemed to shrink, until we moved fearful +as prehistoric man must have moved among the forces over which he had +no control. We discovered our feed in a narrow "stringer" a few miles +on. That night, we, pigmies, slept in the setting before which should +have stridden the colossi of another age. Perhaps eventually, in spite +of its magnificence and wonder, we were a little glad to leave the +Giant Forest. It held us too rigidly to a spiritual standard of which +our normal lives were incapable; it insisted on a loftiness of soul, a +dignity, an aloofness from the ordinary affairs of life, the ordinary +occupations of thought hardly compatible with the powers of any +creature less noble, less aged, less wise in the passing of centuries +than itself. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ON COWBOYS +</H3> + +<P> +Your cowboy is a species variously subdivided. If you happen to be +traveled as to the wild countries, you will be able to recognize whence +your chance acquaintance hails by the kind of saddle he rides, and the +rigging of it; by the kind of rope he throws, and the method of the +throwing; by the shape of hat he wears; by his twist of speech; even by +the very manner of his riding. Your California "vaquero" from the +Coast Ranges is as unlike as possible to your Texas cowman, and both +differ from the Wyoming or South Dakota article. I should be puzzled +to define exactly the habitat of the "typical" cowboy. No matter where +you go, you will find your individual acquaintance varying from the +type in respect to some of the minor details. +</P> + +<P> +Certain characteristics run through the whole tribe, however. Of these +some are so well known or have been so adequately done elsewhere that +it hardly seems wise to elaborate on them here. Let us assume that you +and I know what sort of human beings cowboys are,—with all their +taciturnity, their surface gravity, their keen sense of humor, their +courage, their kindness, their freedom, their lawlessness, their +foulness of mouth, and their supreme skill in the handling of horses +and cattle. I shall try to tell you nothing of all that. +</P> + +<P> +If one thinks down doggedly to the last analysis, he will find that the +basic reason for the differences between a cowboy and other men rests +finally on an individual liberty, a freedom from restraint either of +society or convention, a lawlessness, an accepting of his own standard +alone. He is absolutely self-poised and sufficient; and that +self-poise and that sufficiency he takes pains to assure first of all. +After their assurance he is willing to enter into human relations. His +attitude toward everything in life is, not suspicious, but watchful. +He is "gathered together," his elbows at his side. +</P> + +<P> +This evidences itself most strikingly in his terseness of speech. A +man dependent on himself naturally does not give himself away to the +first comer. He is more interested in finding out what the other fellow +is than in exploiting his own importance. A man who does much +promiscuous talking he is likely to despise, arguing that man +incautious, hence weak. +</P> + +<P> +Yet when he does talk, he talks to the point and with a vivid and +direct picturesqueness of phrase which is as refreshing as it is +unexpected. The delightful remodeling of the English language in Mr. +Alfred Lewis's "Wolfville" is exaggerated only in quantity, not in +quality. No cowboy talks habitually in quite as original a manner as +Mr. Lewis's Old Cattleman; but I have no doubt that in time he would be +heard to say all the good things in that volume. I myself have +note-books full of just such gorgeous language, some of the best of +which I have used elsewhere, and so will not repeat here.[1] +</P> + +<P> +This vividness manifests itself quite as often in the selection of the +apt word as in the construction of elaborate phrases with a +half-humorous intention. A cowboy once told me of the arrival of a +tramp by saying, "He SIFTED into camp." Could any verb be more +expressive? Does not it convey exactly the lazy, careless, +out-at-heels shuffling gait of the hobo? Another in the course of +description told of a saloon scene, "They all BELLIED UP TO the bar." +Again, a range cook, objecting to purposeless idling about his fire, +shouted: "If you fellows come MOPING around here any more, I'LL SURE +MAKE YOU HARD TO CATCH!" "Fish in that pond, son? Why, there's some +fish in there big enough to rope," another advised me. "I quit +shoveling," one explained the story of his life, "because I couldn't +see nothing ahead of shoveling but dirt." The same man described +ploughing as, "Looking at a mule's tail all day." And one of the most +succinct epitomes of the motifs of fiction was offered by an old fellow +who looked over my shoulder as I was reading a novel. "Well, son," +said he, "what they doing now, KISSING OR KILLING?" +</P> + +<P> +Nor are the complete phrases behind in aptness. I have space for only +a few examples, but they will illustrate what I mean. Speaking of a +companion who was "putting on too much dog," I was informed, "He walks +like a man with a new suit of WOODEN UNDERWEAR!" Or again, in answer +to my inquiry as to a mutual acquaintance, "Jim? Oh, poor old Jim! +For the last week or so he's been nothing but an insignificant atom of +humanity hitched to a boil." +</P> + +<P> +But to observe the riot of imagination turned loose with the bridle +off, you must assist at a burst of anger on the part of one of these +men. It is mostly unprintable, but you will get an entirely new idea +of what profanity means. Also you will come to the conclusion that +you, with your trifling DAMNS, and the like, have been a very good boy +indeed. The remotest, most obscure, and unheard of conceptions are +dragged forth from earth, heaven, and hell, and linked together in a +sequence so original, so gaudy, and so utterly blasphemous, that you +gasp and are stricken with the most devoted admiration. It is genius. +</P> + +<P> +Of course I can give you no idea here of what these truly magnificent +oaths are like. It is a pity, for it would liberalize your education. +Occasionally, like a trickle of clear water into an alkali torrent, a +straight English sentence will drop into the flood. It is refreshing +by contrast, but weak. +</P> + +<P> +"If your brains were all made of dynamite, you couldn't blow the top of +your head off." +</P> + +<P> +"I wouldn't speak to him if I met him in hell carrying a lump of ice in +his hand." +</P> + +<P> +"That little horse'll throw you so high the blackbirds will build nests +in your hair before you come down." +</P> + +<P> +These are ingenious and amusing, but need the blazing settings from +which I have ravished them to give them their due force. +</P> + +<P> +In Arizona a number of us were sitting around the feeble camp-fire the +desert scarcity of fuel permits, smoking our pipes. We were all +contemplative and comfortably silent with the exception of one very +youthful person who had a lot to say. It was mainly about himself. +After he had bragged awhile without molestation, one of the older +cow-punchers grew very tired of it. He removed his pipe deliberately, +and spat in the fire. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, son," he drawled, "if you want to say something big, why don't +you say 'elephant'?" +</P> + +<P> +The young fellow subsided. We went on smoking our pipes. +</P> + +<P> +Down near the Chiracahua Range in southeastern Arizona, there is a +butte, and halfway up that butte is a cave, and in front of that cave +is a ramshackle porch-roof or shed. This latter makes the cave into a +dwelling-house. It is inhabited by an old "alkali" and half a dozen +bear dogs. I sat with the old fellow one day for nearly an hour. It +was a sociable visit, but economical of the English language. He made +one remark, outside our initial greeting. It was enough, for in +terseness, accuracy, and compression, I have never heard a better or +more comprehensive description of the arid countries. +</P> + +<P> +"Son," said he, "in this country thar is more cows and less butter, +more rivers and less water, and you kin see farther and see less than +in any other country in the world." +</P> + +<P> +Now this peculiar directness of phrase means but one thing,—freedom +from the influence of convention. The cowboy respects neither the +dictionary nor usage. He employs his words in the manner that best +suits him, and arranges them in the sequence that best expresses his +idea, untrammeled by tradition. It is a phase of the same lawlessness, +the same reliance on self, that makes for his taciturnity and +watchfulness. +</P> + +<P> +In essence, his dress is an adaptation to the necessities of his +calling; as a matter of fact, it is an elaboration on that. The broad +heavy felt hat he has found by experience to be more effective in +turning heat than a lighter straw; he further runs to variety in the +shape of the crown and in the nature of the band. He wears a silk +handkerchief about his neck to turn the sun and keep out the dust, but +indulges in astonishing gaudiness of color. His gauntlets save his +hands from the rope; he adds a fringe and a silver star. The heavy +wide "chaps" of leather about his legs are necessary to him when he is +riding fast through brush; he indulges in such frivolities as stamped +leather, angora hair, and the like. High heels to his boots prevent +his foot from slipping through his wide stirrup, and are useful to dig +into the ground when he is roping in the corral. Even his six-shooter +is more a tool of his trade than a weapon of defense. With it he +frightens cattle from the heavy brush; he slaughters old or diseased +steers; he "turns the herd" in a stampede or when rounding it in; and +especially is it handy and loose to his hip in case his horse should +fall and commence to drag him. +</P> + +<P> +So the details of his appearance spring from the practical, but in the +wearing of them and the using of them he shows again that fine +disregard for the way other people do it or think it. +</P> + +<P> +Now in civilization you and I entertain a double respect for firearms +and the law. Firearms are dangerous, and it is against the law to use +them promiscuously. If we shoot them off in unexpected places, we +first of all alarm unduly our families and neighbors, and in due course +attract the notice of the police. By the time we are grown up we look +on shooting a revolver as something to be accomplished after an +especial trip for the purpose. +</P> + +<P> +But to the cowboy shooting a gun is merely what lighting a match would +be to us. We take reasonable care not to scratch that match on the +wall nor to throw it where it will do harm. Likewise the cowboy takes +reasonable care that his bullets do not land in some one's anatomy nor +in too expensive bric-a-brac. Otherwise any time or place will do. +</P> + +<P> +The picture comes to me of a bunk-house on an Arizona range. The time +was evening. A half-dozen cowboys were sprawled out on the beds +smoking, and three more were playing poker with the Chinese cook. A +misguided rat darted out from under one of the beds and made for the +empty fireplace. He finished his journey in smoke. Then the four who +had shot slipped their guns back into their holsters and resumed their +cigarettes and drawling low-toned conversation. +</P> + +<P> +On another occasion I stopped for noon at the Circle I ranch. While +waiting for dinner, I lay on my back in the bunk-room and counted three +hundred and sixty-two bullet-holes in the ceiling. They came to be +there because the festive cowboys used to while away the time while +lying as I was lying, waiting for supper, in shooting the flies that +crawled about the plaster. +</P> + +<P> +This beautiful familiarity with the pistol as a parlor toy accounts in +great part for a cowboy's propensity to "shoot up the town" and his +indignation when arrested therefor. +</P> + +<P> +The average cowboy is only a fair target-shot with the revolver. But +he is chain lightning at getting his gun off in a hurry. There are +exceptions to this, however, especially among the older men. Some can +handle the Colts 45 and its heavy recoil with almost uncanny accuracy. +I have seen individuals who could from their saddles nip lizards +darting across the road; and one who was able to perforate twice before +it hit the ground a tomato-can tossed into the air. The cowboy is +prejudiced against the double-action gun, for some reason or other. He +manipulates his single-action weapon fast enough, however. +</P> + +<P> +His sense of humor takes the same unexpected slants, not because his +mental processes differ from those of other men, but because he is +unshackled by the subtle and unnoticed nothingnesses of precedent which +deflect our action toward the common uniformity of our neighbors. It +must be confessed that his sense of humor possesses also a certain +robustness. +</P> + +<P> +The J. H. outfit had been engaged for ten days in busting broncos. +This the Chinese cook, Sang, a newcomer in the territory, found vastly +amusing. He liked to throw the ropes off the prostrate broncos, when +all was ready; to slap them on the flanks; to yell shrill Chinese +yells; and to dance in celestial delight when the terrified animal +arose and scattered out of there. But one day the range men drove up a +little bunch of full-grown cattle that had been bought from a smaller +owner. It was necessary to change the brands. Therefore a little fire +was built, the stamp-brand put in to heat, and two of the men on +horseback caught a cow by the horns and one hind leg, and promptly +upset her. The old brand was obliterated, the new one burnt in. This +irritated the cow. Promptly the branding-men, who were of course +afoot, climbed to the top of the corral to be out of the way. At this +moment, before the horsemen could flip loose their ropes, Sang appeared. +</P> + +<P> +"Hol' on!" he babbled. "I take him off;" and he scrambled over the +fence and approached the cow. +</P> + +<P> +Now cattle of any sort rush at the first object they see after getting +to their feet. But whereas a steer makes a blind run and so can be +avoided, a cow keeps her eyes open. Sang approached that wild-eyed +cow, a bland smile on his countenance. +</P> + +<P> +A dead silence fell. Looking about at my companions' faces I could not +discern even in the depths of their eyes a single faint flicker of +human interest. +</P> + +<P> +Sang loosened the rope from the hind leg, he threw it from the horns, +he slapped the cow with his hat, and uttered the shrill Chinese yell. +So far all was according to programme. +</P> + +<P> +The cow staggered to her feet, her eyes blazing fire. She took one good +look, and then started for Sang. +</P> + +<P> +What followed occurred with all the briskness of a tune from a circus +band. Sang darted for the corral fence. Now, three sides of the +corral were railed, and so climbable, but the fourth was a solid adobe +wall. Of course Sang went for the wall. There, finding his nails +would not stick, he fled down the length of it, his queue streaming, +his eyes popping, his talons curved toward an ideal of safety, +gibbering strange monkey talk, pursued a scant arm's length behind by +that infuriated cow. Did any one help him? Not any. Every man of +that crew was hanging weak from laughter to the horn of his saddle or +the top of the fence. The preternatural solemnity had broken to little +bits. Men came running from the bunk-house, only to go into spasms +outside, to roll over and over on the ground, clutching handfuls of +herbage in the agony of their delight. +</P> + +<P> +At the end of the corral was a narrow chute. Into this Sang escaped as +into a burrow. The cow came too. Sang, in desperation, seized a pole, +but the cow dashed such a feeble weapon aside. Sang caught sight of a +little opening, too small for cows, back into the main corral. He +squeezed through. The cow crashed through after him, smashing the +boards. At the crucial moment Sang tripped and fell on his face. The +cow missed him by so close a margin that for a moment we thought she +had hit. But she had not, and before she could turn, Sang had topped +the fence and was halfway to the kitchen. Tom Waters always maintained +that he spread his Chinese sleeves and flew. Shortly after a +tremendous smoke arose from the kitchen chimney. Sang had gone back to +cooking. +</P> + +<P> +Now that Mongolian was really in great danger, but no one of the outfit +thought for a moment of any but the humorous aspect of the affair. +Analogously, in a certain small cow-town I happened to be transient +when the postmaster shot a Mexican. Nothing was done about it. The man +went right on being postmaster, but he had to set up the drinks because +he had hit the Mexican in the stomach. That was considered a poor place +to hit a man. +</P> + +<P> +The entire town of Willcox knocked off work for nearly a day to while +away the tedium of an enforced wait there on my part. They wanted me +to go fishing. One man offered a team, the other a saddle-horse. All +expended much eloquence in directing me accurately, so that I should be +sure to find exactly the spot where I could hang my feet over a bank +beneath which there were "a plumb plenty of fish." Somehow or other +they raked out miscellaneous tackle. But they were a little too eager. +I excused myself and hunted up a map. Sure enough the lake was there, +but it had been dry since a previous geological period. The fish were +undoubtedly there too, but they were fossil fish. I borrowed a pickaxe +and shovel and announced myself as ready to start. +</P> + +<P> +Outside the principal saloon in one town hung a gong. When a stranger +was observed to enter the saloon, that gong was sounded. Then it +behooved him to treat those who came in answer to the summons. +</P> + +<P> +But when it comes to a case of real hospitality or helpfulness, your +cowboy is there every time. You are welcome to food and shelter without +price, whether he is at home or not. Only it is etiquette to leave +your name and thanks pinned somewhere about the place. Otherwise your +intrusion may be considered in the light of a theft, and you may be +pursued accordingly. +</P> + +<P> +Contrary to general opinion, the cowboy is not a dangerous man to those +not looking for trouble. There are occasional exceptions, of course, +but they belong to the universal genus of bully, and can be found among +any class. Attend to your own business, be cool and good-natured, and +your skin is safe. Then when it is really "up to you," be a man; you +will never lack for friends. +</P> + +<P> +The Sierras, especially towards the south where the meadows are wide +and numerous, are full of cattle in small bands. They come up from the +desert about the first of June, and are driven back again to the arid +countries as soon as the autumn storms begin. In the very high land +they are few, and to be left to their own devices; but now we entered a +new sort of country. +</P> + +<P> +Below Farewell Gap and the volcanic regions one's surroundings change +entirely. The meadows become high flat valleys, often miles in extent; +the mountains—while registering big on the aneroid—are so little +elevated above the plateaus that a few thousand feet is all of their +apparent height; the passes are low, the slopes easy, the trails good, +the rock outcrops few, the hills grown with forests to their very tops. +Altogether it is a country easy to ride through, rich in grazing, cool +and green, with its eight thousand feet of elevation. Consequently +during the hot months thousands of desert cattle are pastured here; and +with them come many of the desert men. +</P> + +<P> +Our first intimation of these things was in the volcanic region where +swim the golden trout. From the advantage of a hill we looked far down +to a hair-grass meadow through which twisted tortuously a brook, and by +the side of the brook, belittled by distance, was a miniature man. We +could see distinctly his every movement, as he approached cautiously +the stream's edge, dropped his short line at the end of a stick over +the bank, and then yanked bodily the fish from beneath. Behind him +stood his pony. We could make out in the clear air the coil of his +raw-hide "rope," the glitter of his silver bit, the metal points on his +saddle skirts, the polish of his six-shooter, the gleam of his fish, +all the details of his costume. Yet he was fully a mile distant. +After a time he picked up his string of fish, mounted, and jogged +loosely away at the cow-pony's little Spanish trot toward the south. +Over a week later, having caught golden trout and climbed Mount +Whitney, we followed him and so came to the great central camp at +Monache Meadows. +</P> + +<P> +Imagine an island-dotted lake of grass four or five miles long by two +or three wide to which slope regular shores of stony soil planted with +trees. Imagine on the very edge of that lake an especially fine grove +perhaps a quarter of a mile in length, beneath whose trees a dozen +different outfits of cowboys are camped for the summer. You must place +a herd of ponies in the foreground, a pine mountain at the back, an +unbroken ridge across ahead, cattle dotted here and there, thousands of +ravens wheeling and croaking and flapping everywhere, a marvelous clear +sun and blue sky. The camps were mostly open, though a few possessed +tents. They differed from the ordinary in that they had racks for +saddles and equipments. Especially well laid out were the cooking +arrangements. A dozen accommodating springs supplied fresh water with +the conveniently regular spacing of faucets. +</P> + +<P> +Towards evening the men jingled in. This summer camp was almost in the +nature of a vacation to them after the hard work of the desert. All +they had to do was to ride about the pleasant hills examining that the +cattle did not stray nor get into trouble. It was fun for them, and +they were in high spirits. +</P> + +<P> +Our immediate neighbors were an old man of seventy-two and his grandson +of twenty-five. At least the old man said he was seventy-two. I +should have guessed fifty. He was as straight as an arrow, wiry, lean, +clear-eyed, and had, without food, ridden twelve hours after some +strayed cattle. On arriving he threw off his saddle, turned his horse +loose, and set about the construction of supper. This consisted of +boiled meat, strong tea, and an incredible number of flapjacks built of +water, baking-powder, salt, and flour, warmed through—not cooked—in a +frying-pan. He deluged these with molasses and devoured three +platefuls. It would have killed an ostrich, but apparently did this +decrepit veteran of seventy-two much good. +</P> + +<P> +After supper he talked to us most interestingly in the dry cowboy +manner, looking at us keenly from under the floppy brim of his hat. He +confided to us that he had had to quit smoking, and it ground him—he'd +smoked since he was five years old. +</P> + +<P> +"Tobacco doesn't agree with you any more?" I hazarded. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, 'taint that," he replied; "only I'd ruther chew." +</P> + +<P> +The dark fell, and all the little camp-fires under the trees twinkled +bravely forth. Some of the men sang. One had an accordion. Figures, +indistinct and formless, wandered here and there in the shadows, +suddenly emerging from mystery into the clarity of firelight, there to +disclose themselves as visitors. Out on the plain the cattle lowed, +the horses nickered. The red firelight flashed from the metal of +suspended equipment, crimsoned the bronze of men's faces, touched with +pink the high lights on their gracefully recumbent forms. After a +while we rolled up in our blankets and went to sleep, while a band of +coyotes wailed like lost spirits from a spot where a steer had died. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +[1] See especially Jackson Himes in The Blazed Trail; and The Rawhide. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE GOLDEN TROUT +</H3> + +<P> +After Farewell Gap, as has been hinted, the country changes utterly. +Possibly that is why it is named Farewell Gap. The land is wild, +weird, full of twisted trees, strangely colored rocks, fantastic +formations, bleak mountains of slabs, volcanic cones, lava, dry powdery +soil or loose shale, close-growing grasses, and strong winds. You feel +yourself in an upper world beyond the normal, where only the freakish +cold things of nature, elsewhere crowded out, find a home. Camp is +under a lonely tree, none the less solitary from the fact that it has +companions. The earth beneath is characteristic of the treeless lands, +so that these seem to have been stuck alien into it. There is no +shelter save behind great fortuitous rocks. Huge marmots run over the +boulders, like little bears. The wind blows strong. The streams run +naked under the eye of the sun, exposing clear and yellow every detail +of their bottoms. In them there are no deep hiding-places any more +than there is shelter in the land, and so every fish that swims shows +as plainly as in an aquarium. +</P> + +<P> +We saw them as we rode over the hot dry shale among the hot and twisted +little trees. They lay against the bottom, transparent; they darted +away from the jar of our horses' hoofs; they swam slowly against the +current, delicate as liquid shadows, as though the clear uniform golden +color of the bottom had clouded slightly to produce these tenuous +ghostly forms. We examined them curiously from the advantage our +slightly elevated trail gave us, and knew them for the Golden Trout, +and longed to catch some. +</P> + +<P> +All that day our route followed in general the windings of this unique +home of a unique fish. We crossed a solid natural bridge; we skirted +fields of red and black lava, vivid as poppies; we gazed marveling on +perfect volcano cones, long since extinct: finally we camped on a side +hill under two tall branchless trees in about as bleak and exposed a +position as one could imagine. Then all three, we jointed our rods and +went forth to find out what the Golden Trout was like. +</P> + +<P> +I soon discovered a number of things, as follows: The stream at this +point, near its source, is very narrow—I could step across it—and +flows beneath deep banks. The Golden Trout is shy of approach. The +wind blows. Combining these items of knowledge I found that it was no +easy matter to cast forty feet in a high wind so accurately as to hit a +three-foot stream a yard below the level of the ground. In fact, the +proposition was distinctly sporty; I became as interested in it as in +accurate target-shooting, so that at last I forgot utterly the +intention of my efforts and failed to strike my first rise. The +second, however, I hooked, and in a moment had him on the grass. +</P> + +<P> +He was a little fellow of seven inches, but mere size was nothing, the +color was the thing. And that was indeed golden. I can liken it to +nothing more accurately than the twenty-dollar gold-piece, the same +satin finish, the same pale yellow. The fish was fairly molten. It +did not glitter in gaudy burnishment, as does our aquarium gold-fish, +for example, but gleamed and melted and glowed as though fresh from the +mould. One would almost expect that on cutting the flesh it would be +found golden through all its substance. This for the basic color. You +must remember always that it was a true trout, without scales, and so +the more satiny. Furthermore, along either side of the belly ran two +broad longitudinal stripes of exactly the color and burnish of the +copper paint used on racing yachts. +</P> + +<P> +I thought then, and have ever since, that the Golden Trout, fresh from +the water, is one of the most beautiful fish that swims. Unfortunately +it fades very quickly, and so specimens in alcohol can give no idea of +it. In fact, I doubt if you will ever be able to gain a very clear +idea of it unless you take to the trail that leads up, under the end of +which is known technically as the High Sierras. +</P> + +<P> +The Golden Trout lives only in this one stream, but occurs there in +countless multitudes. Every little pool, depression, or riffles has +its school. When not alarmed they take the fly readily. One afternoon +I caught an even hundred in a little over an hour. By way of +parenthesis it may be well to state that most were returned unharmed to +the water. They run small,—a twelve-inch fish is a monster,—but are +of extraordinary delicacy for eating. We three devoured sixty-five +that first evening in camp. +</P> + +<P> +Now the following considerations seem to me at this point worthy of +note. In the first place, the Golden Trout occurs but in this one +stream, and is easily caught. At present the stream is comparatively +inaccessible, so that the natural supply probably keeps even with the +season's catches. Still the trail is on the direct route to Mount +Whitney, and year by year the ascent of this "top of the Republic" is +becoming more the proper thing to do. Every camping party stops for a +try at the Golden Trout, and of course the fish-hog is a sure +occasional migrant. The cowboys told of two who caught six hundred in a +day. As the certainly increasing tide of summer immigration gains in +volume, the Golden Trout, in spite of his extraordinary numbers at +present, is going to be caught out. +</P> + +<P> +Therefore, it seems the manifest duty of the Fisheries to provide for +the proper protection and distribution of this species, especially the +distribution. Hundreds of streams in the Sierras are without trout +simply because of some natural obstruction, such as a waterfall too +high to jump, which prevents their ascent of the current. These are +all well adapted to the planting of fish, and might just as well be +stocked by the Golden Trout as by the customary Rainbow. Care should be +taken lest the two species become hybridized, as has occurred following +certain misguided efforts in the South Fork of the Kern. +</P> + +<P> +So far as I know but one attempt has been made to transplant these +fish. About five or six years ago a man named Grant carried some in +pails across to a small lake near at hand. They have done well, and +curiously enough have grown to a weight of from one and a half to two +pounds. This would seem to show that their small size in Volcano Creek +results entirely from conditions of feed or opportunity for +development, and that a study of proper environment might result in a +game fish to rival the Rainbow in size and certainly to surpass him in +curious interest. +</P> + +<P> +A great many well-meaning people who have marveled at the abundance of +the Golden Trout in their natural habitat laugh at the idea that +Volcano Creek will ever become "fished out." To such it should be +pointed out that the fish in question is a voracious feeder, is without +shelter, and quickly landed. A simple calculation will show how many +fish a hundred moderate anglers, camping a week apiece, would take out +in a season. And in a short time there will be many more than a +hundred, few of them moderate, coming up into the mountains to camp +just as long as they have a good time. All it needs is better trails, +and better trails are under way. Well-meaning people used to laugh at +the idea that the buffalo and wild pigeons would ever disappear. They +are gone. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ON GOING OUT +</H3> + +<P> +The last few days of your stay in the wilderness you will be consumedly +anxious to get out. It does not matter how much of a savage you are, +how good a time you are having, or how long you have been away from +civilization. Nor does it mean especially that you are glad to leave +the wilds. Merely does it come about that you drift unconcernedly on +the stream of days until you approach the brink of departure: then +irresistibly the current hurries you into haste. The last day of your +week's vacation; the last three of your month's or your summer's or +your year's outing,—these comprise the hours in which by a mighty but +invisible transformation your mind forsakes its savagery, epitomizes +again the courses of social evolution, regains the poise and +cultivation of the world of men. Before that you have been content; +yes, and would have gone on being content for as long as you please +until the approach of the limit you have set for your wandering. +</P> + +<P> +In effect this transformation from the state of savagery to the state +of civilization is very abrupt. When you leave the towns your clothes +and mind are new. Only gradually do they take on the color of their +environment; only gradually do the subtle influences of the great +forest steal in on your dulled faculties to flow over them in a tide +that rises imperceptibly. You glide as gently from the artificial to +the natural life as do the forest shadows from night to day. But at +the other end the affair is different. There you awake on the appointed +morning in complete resumption of your old attitude of mind. The tide +of nature has slipped away from you in the night. +</P> + +<P> +Then you arise and do the most wonderful of your wilderness traveling. +On those days you look back fondly, of them you boast afterwards in +telling what a rapid and enduring voyager you are. The biggest day's +journey I ever undertook was in just such a case. We started at four +in the morning through a forest of the early spring-time, where the +trees were glorious overhead, but the walking ankle deep. On our backs +were thirty-pound burdens. We walked steadily until three in the +afternoon, by which time we had covered thirty miles and had arrived at +what then represented civilization to us. Of the nine who started, two +Indians finished an hour ahead; the half breed, Billy, and I staggered +in together, encouraging each other by words concerning the bottle of +beer we were going to buy; and the five white men never got in at all +until after nine o'clock that night. Neither thirty miles, nor thirty +pounds, nor ankle-deep slush sounds formidable when considered as +abstract and separate propositions. +</P> + +<P> +In your first glimpse of the civilized peoples your appearance in your +own eyes will undergo the same instantaneous and tremendous revulsion +that has already taken place in your mental sphere. Heretofore you +have considered yourself as a decently well appointed gentleman of the +woods. Ten to one, in contrast to the voluntary or enforced simplicity +of the professional woodsman you have looked on your little luxuries of +carved leather hat-band, fancy knife sheath, pearl-handled six-shooter, +or khaki breeches as giving you slightly the air of a forest exquisite. +But on that depot platform or in presence of that staring group on the +steps of the Pullman, you suddenly discover yourself to be nothing less +than a disgrace to your bringing up. Nothing could be more evident +than the flop of your hat, the faded, dusty appearance of your blue +shirt, the beautiful black polish of your khakis, the grime of your +knuckles, the three days' beard of your face. If you are a fool, you +worry about it. If you are a sensible man, you do not mind;—and you +prepare for amusing adventures. +</P> + +<P> +The realization of your external unworthiness, however, brings to your +heart the desire for a hot bath in a porcelain tub. You gloat over the +thought; and when the dream comes to be a reality, you soak away in as +voluptuous a pleasure as ever falls to the lot of man to enjoy. Then +you shave, and array yourself minutely and preciously in clean clothes +from head to toe, building up a new respectability, and you leave +scornfully in a heap your camping garments. They have heretofore +seemed clean, but now you would not touch them, no, not even to put +them in the soiled-clothes basket, let your feminines rave as they may. +And for at least two days you prove an almost childish delight in mere +raiment. +</P> + +<P> +But before you can reach this blissful stage you have still to order +and enjoy your first civilized dinner. It tastes good, not because +your camp dinners have palled on you, but because your transformation +demands its proper aliment. Fortunate indeed you are if you step +directly to a transcontinental train or into the streets of a modern +town. Otherwise the transition through the small-hotel provender is +apt to offer too little contrast for the fullest enjoyment. But aboard +the dining-car or in the cafe you will gather to yourself such +ill-assorted succulence as thick, juicy beefsteaks, and creamed +macaroni, and sweet potatoes, and pie, and red wine, and real cigars +and other things. +</P> + +<P> +In their acquisition your appearance will tell against you. We were +once watched anxiously by a nervous female head waiter who at last +mustered up courage enough to inform me that guests were not allowed to +eat without coats. We politely pointed out that we possessed no such +garments. After a long consultation with the proprietor she told us it +was all right for this time, but that we must not do it again. At +another place I had to identify myself as a responsible person by +showing a picture in a magazine bought for the purpose. +</P> + +<P> +The public never will know how to take you. Most of it treats you as +though you were a two-dollar a day laborer; some of the more astute are +puzzled. One February I walked out of the North Country on snowshoes +and stepped directly into a Canadian Pacific transcontinental train. I +was clad in fur cap, vivid blanket coat, corded trousers, German +stockings and moccasins; and my only baggage was the pair of snowshoes. +It was the season of light travel. A single Englishman touring the +world as the crow flies occupied the car. He looked at me so askance +that I made an opportunity of talking to him. I should like to read +his "Travels" to see what he made out of the riddle. In similar +circumstances, and without explanation, I had fun talking French and +swapping boulevard reminiscences with a member of a Parisian theatrical +troupe making a long jump through northern Wisconsin. And once, at six +of the morning, letting myself into my own house with a latch-key, and +sitting down to read the paper until the family awoke, I was nearly +brained by the butler. He supposed me a belated burglar, and had armed +himself with the poker. The most flattering experience of the kind was +voiced by a small urchin who plucked at his mother's sleeve: "Look, +mamma!" he exclaimed in guarded but jubilant tones, "there's a real +Indian!" +</P> + +<P> +Our last camp of this summer was built and broken in the full leisure +of at least a three weeks' expectation. We had traveled south from the +Golden Trout through the Toowah range. There we had viewed wonders +which I cannot expect you to believe in,—such as a spring of warm +water in which you could bathe and from which you could reach to dip up +a cup of carbonated water on the right hand, or cast a fly into a trout +stream, on the left. At length we entered a high meadow in the shape +of a maltese cross, with pine slopes about it, and springs of water +welling in little humps of green. There the long pine-needles were +extraordinarily thick and the pine-cones exceptionally large. The +former we scraped together to the depth of three feet for a bed in the +lea of a fallen trunk; the latter we gathered in armfuls to pile on the +camp-fire. Next morning we rode down a mile or so through the grasses, +exclaimed over the thousands of mountain quail buzzing from the creek +bottoms, gazed leisurely up at our well-known pines and about at the +grateful coolness of our accustomed green meadows and leaves;—and +then, as though we had crossed a threshold, we emerged into chaparral, +dry loose shale, yucca, Spanish bayonet, heated air and the bleached +burned-out furnace-like country of arid California in midsummer. The +trail dropped down through sage-brush, just as it always did in the +California we had known; the mountains rose with the fur-like +dark-olive effect of the coast ranges; the sun beat hot. We had left +the enchanted land. +</P> + +<P> +The trail was very steep and very long, and took us finally into the +country of dry brown grasses, gray brush, waterless stony ravines, and +dust. Others had traveled that trail, headed the other way, and +evidently had not liked it. Empty bottles blazed the path. Somebody +had sacrificed a pack of playing-cards, which he had stuck on thorns +from time to time, each inscribed with a blasphemous comment on the +discomforts of such travel. After an apparently interminable interval +we crossed an irrigating ditch, where the horses were glad to water, +and so came to one of those green flowering lush California villages so +startlingly in contrast to their surroundings. +</P> + +<P> +By this it was two o'clock and we had traveled on horseback since four. +A variety of circumstances learned at the village made it imperative +that both the Tenderfoot and myself should go out without the delay of +a single hour. This left Wes to bring the horses home, which was tough +on Wes, but he rose nobly to the occasion. +</P> + +<P> +When the dust of our rustling cleared, we found we had acquired a team +of wild broncos, a buckboard, an elderly gentleman with a white goatee, +two bottles of beer, some crackers and some cheese. With these we hoped +to reach the railroad shortly after midnight. +</P> + +<P> +The elevation was five thousand feet, the road dusty and hot, the +country uninteresting in sage-brush and alkali and rattlesnakes and +general dryness. Constantly we drove, checking off the landmarks in the +good old fashion. Our driver had immigrated from Maine the year +before, and by some chance had drifted straight to the arid regions. +He was vastly disgusted. At every particularly atrocious dust-hole or +unlovely cactus strip he spat into space and remarked in tones of +bottomless contempt:— +</P> + +<P> +"BEAU-ti-ful Cal-if-or-nia!" +</P> + +<P> +This was evidently intended as a quotation. +</P> + +<P> +Towards sunset we ran up into rounded hills, where we got out at every +rise in order to ease the horses, and where we hurried the old +gentleman beyond the limits of his Easterner's caution at every descent. +</P> + +<P> +It grew dark. Dimly the road showed gray in the twilight. We did not +know how far exactly we were to go, but imagined that sooner or later +we would top one of the small ridges to look across one of the broad +plateau plains to the lights of our station. You see we had forgotten, +in the midst of flatness, that we were still over five thousand feet +up. Then the road felt its way between two hills;—and the blackness +of night opened below us as well as above, and from some deep and +tremendous abyss breathed the winds of space. +</P> + +<P> +It was as dark as a cave, for the moon was yet two hours below the +horizon. Somehow the trail turned to the right along that tremendous +cliff. We thought we could make out its direction, the dimness of its +glimmering; but equally well, after we had looked a moment, we could +imagine it one way or another, to right and left. I went ahead to +investigate. The trail to left proved to be the faint reflection of a +clump of "old man" at least five hundred feet down; that to right was a +burned patch sheer against the rise of the cliff. We started on the +middle way. +</P> + +<P> +There were turns-in where a continuance straight ahead would require an +airship or a coroner; again turns-out where the direct line would +telescope you against the state of California. These we could make out +by straining our eyes. The horses plunged and snorted; the buckboard +leaped. Fire flashed from the impact of steel against rock, +momentarily blinding us to what we should see. Always we descended +into the velvet blackness of the abyss, the caņon walls rising steadily +above us shutting out even the dim illumination of the stars. From +time to time our driver, desperately scared, jerked out cheering bits +of information. +</P> + +<P> +"My eyes ain't what they was. For the Lord's sake keep a-lookin', +boys." +</P> + +<P> +"That nigh hoss is deef. There don't seem to be no use saying WHOA to +her." +</P> + +<P> +"Them brakes don't hold fer sour peanuts. I been figgerin' on tackin' +on a new shoe for a week." +</P> + +<P> +"I never was over this road but onct, and then I was headed th' other +way. I was driving of a corpse." +</P> + +<P> +Then, after two hours of it, BING! BANG! SMASH! our tongue collided +with a sheer black wall, no blacker than the atmosphere before it. The +trail here took a sharp V turn to the left. We had left the face of +the precipice and henceforward would descend the bed of the caņon. +Fortunately our collision had done damage to nothing but our nerves, so +we proceeded to do so. +</P> + +<P> +The walls of the crevice rose thousands of feet above us. They seemed +to close together, like the sides of a tent, to leave only a narrow +pale lucent strip of sky. The trail was quite invisible, and even the +sense of its existence was lost when we traversed groves of trees. One +of us had to run ahead of the horses, determining its general +direction, locating the sharper turns. The rest depended on the +instinct of the horses and pure luck. +</P> + +<P> +It was pleasant in the cool of night thus to run down through the +blackness, shouting aloud to guide our followers, swinging to the +slope, bathed to the soul in mysteries of which we had no time to take +cognizance. +</P> + +<P> +By and by we saw a little spark far ahead of us like a star. The smell +of fresh wood smoke and stale damp fire came to our nostrils. We +gained the star and found it to be a log smouldering; and up the hill +other stars red as blood. So we knew that we had crossed the zone of +an almost extinct forest fire, and looked on the scattered camp-fires +of an army of destruction. +</P> + +<P> +The moon rose. We knew it by touches of white light on peaks +infinitely far above us; not at all by the relieving of the heavy +velvet blackness in which we moved. After a time, I, running ahead in +my turn, became aware of the deep breathing of animals. I stopped short +and called a warning. Immediately a voice answered me. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on, straight ahead. They're not on the road." +</P> + +<P> +When within five feet I made out the huge freight wagons in which were +lying the teamsters, and very dimly the big freight mules standing +tethered to the wheels. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a dark night, friend, and you're out late." +</P> + +<P> +"A dark night," I agreed, and plunged on. Behind me rattled and banged +the abused buckboard, snorted the half-wild broncos, groaned the +unrepaired brake, softly cursed my companions. +</P> + +<P> +Then at once the abrupt descent ceased. We glided out to the silvered +flat, above which sailed the moon. +</P> + +<P> +The hour was seen to be half past one. We had missed our train. +Nothing was visible of human habitations. The land was frosted with +the moonlight, enchanted by it, etherealized. Behind us, huge and +formidable, loomed the black mass of the range we had descended. +Before us, thin as smoke in the magic lucence that flooded the world, +rose other mountains, very great, lofty as the sky. We could not +understand them. The descent we had just accomplished should have +landed us on a level plain in which lay our town. But here we found +ourselves in a pocket valley entirely surrounded by mountain ranges +through which there seemed to be no pass less than five or six thousand +feet in height. +</P> + +<P> +We reined in the horses to figure it out. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see how it can be," said I. "We've certainly come far enough. +It would take us four hours at the very least to cross that range, even +if the railroad should happen to be on the other side of it." +</P> + +<P> +"I been through here only once," repeated the driver,—"going the other +way.—Then I drew a corpse." He spat, and added as an afterthought, +"BEAU-ti-ful Cal-if-or-nia!" +</P> + +<P> +We stared at the mountains that hemmed us in. They rose above us sheer +and forbidding. In the bright moonlight plainly were to be descried +the brush of the foothills, the timber, the fissures, the caņons, the +granites, and the everlasting snows. Almost we thought to make out a +thread of a waterfall high up where the clouds would be if the night +had not been clear. +</P> + +<P> +"We got off the trail somewhere," hazarded the Tenderfoot. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we're on a road, anyway," I pointed out. "It's bound to go +somewhere. We might as well give up the railroad and find a place to +turn-in." +</P> + +<P> +"It can't be far," encouraged the Tenderfoot; "this valley can't be +more than a few miles across." +</P> + +<P> +"Gi dap!" remarked the driver. +</P> + +<P> +We moved forward down the white wagon trail approaching the mountains. +And then we were witnesses of the most marvelous transformation. For +as we neared them, those impregnable mountains, as though +panic-stricken by our advance, shrunk back, dissolved, dwindled, went +to pieces. Where had towered ten-thousand-foot peaks, perfect in the +regular succession from timber to snow, now were little flat hills on +which grew tiny bushes of sage. A passage opened between them. In a +hundred yards we had gained the open country, leaving behind us the +mighty but unreal necromancies of the moon. +</P> + +<P> +Before us gleamed red and green lights. The mass of houses showed half +distinguishable. A feeble glimmer illuminated part of a white sign +above the depot. That which remained invisible was evidently the name +of the town. That which was revealed was the supplementary information +which the Southern Pacific furnishes to its patrons. It read: +"Elevation 482 feet." We were definitely out of the mountains. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +XXII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE LURE OF THE TRAIL +</H3> + +<P> +The trail's call depends not at all on your common sense. You know you +are a fool for answering it; and yet you go. The comforts of +civilization, to put the case on its lowest plane, are not lightly to +be renounced: the ease of having your physical labor done for you; the +joy of cultivated minds, of theatres, of books, of participation in the +world's progress; these you leave behind you. And in exchange you +enter a life where there is much long hard work of the hands—work that +is really hard and long, so that no man paid to labor would consider it +for a moment; you undertake to eat simply, to endure much, to lie on +the rack of anxiety; you voluntarily place yourself where cold, wet, +hunger, thirst, heat, monotony, danger, and many discomforts will wait +upon you daily. A thousand times in the course of a woods life even +the stoutest-hearted will tell himself softly—very softly if he is +really stout-hearted, so that others may not be annoyed—that if ever +the fates permit him to extricate himself he will never venture again. +</P> + +<P> +These times come when long continuance has worn on the spirit. You +beat all day to windward against the tide toward what should be but an +hour's sail: the sea is high and the spray cold; there are sunken +rocks, and food there is none; chill gray evening draws dangerously +near, and there is a foot of water in the bilge. You have swallowed +your tongue twenty times on the alkali; and the sun is melting hot, and +the dust dry and pervasive, and there is no water, and for all your +effort the relative distances seem to remain the same for days. You +have carried a pack until your every muscle is strung white-hot; the +woods are breathless; the black flies swarm persistently and bite until +your face is covered with blood. You have struggled through clogging +snow until each time you raise your snowshoe you feel as though some +one had stabbed a little sharp knife into your groin; it has come to be +night; the mercury is away below zero, and with aching fingers you are +to prepare a camp which is only an anticipation of many more such camps +in the ensuing days. For a week it has rained, so that you, pushing +through the dripping brush, are soaked and sodden and comfortless, and +the bushes have become horrible to your shrinking goose-flesh. Or you +are just plain tired out, not from a single day's fatigue, but from the +gradual exhaustion of a long hike. Then in your secret soul you utter +these sentiments:— +</P> + +<P> +"You are a fool. This is not fun. There is no real reason why you +should do this. If you ever get out of here, you will stick right home +where common sense flourishes, my son!" +</P> + +<P> +Then after a time you do get out, and are thankful. But in three months +you will have proved in your own experience the following axiom—I +should call it the widest truth the wilderness has to teach:— +</P> + +<P> +"In memory the pleasures of a camping trip strengthen with time, and +the disagreeables weaken." +</P> + +<P> +I don't care how hard an experience you have had, nor how little of the +pleasant has been mingled with it, in three months your general +impression of that trip will be good. You will look back on the hard +times with a certain fondness of recollection. +</P> + +<P> +I remember one trip I took in the early spring following a long drive +on the Pine River. It rained steadily for six days. We were soaked to +the skin all the time, ate standing up in the driving downpour, and +slept wet. So cold was it that each morning our blankets were so full +of frost that they crackled stiffly when we turned out. +Dispassionately I can appraise that as about the worst I ever got into. +Yet as an impression the Pine River trip seems to me a most enjoyable +one. +</P> + +<P> +So after you have been home for a little while the call begins to make +itself heard. At first it is very gentle. But little by little a +restlessness seizes hold of you. You do not know exactly what is the +matter: you are aware merely that your customary life has lost savor, +that you are doing things more or less perfunctorily, and that you are +a little more irritable than your naturally evil disposition. +</P> + +<P> +And gradually it is borne in on you exactly what is the matter. Then +say you to yourself:— +</P> + +<P> +"My son, you know better. You are no tenderfoot. You have had too long +an experience to admit of any glamour of indefiniteness about this +thing. No use bluffing. You know exactly how hard you will have to +work, and how much tribulation you are going to get into, and how +hungry and wet and cold and tired and generally frazzled out you are +going to be. You've been there enough times so it's pretty clearly +impressed on you. You go into this thing with your eyes open. You +know what you're in for. You're pretty well off right here, and you'd +be a fool to go." +</P> + +<P> +"That's right," says yourself to you. "You're dead right about it, old +man. Do you know where we can get another pack-mule?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mountains, by Stewart Edward White + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOUNTAINS *** + +***** This file should be named 465-h.htm or 465-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/4/6/465/ + +Produced by Dianne Bean. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Mountains + +Author: Stewart Edward White + +Posting Date: October 9, 2008 [EBook #465] +Release Date: March, 1996 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOUNTAINS *** + + + + +Produced by Dianne Bean. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + +THE MOUNTAINS + + +BY + +STEWART EDWARD WHITE + + + +AUTHOR OF + +"THE BLAZED TRAIL," "SILENT PLACES," "THE FOREST," ETC. + + + + + +PREFACE + +The author has followed a true sequence of events practically in all +particulars save in respect to the character of the Tenderfoot. He is +in one sense fictitious; in another sense real. He is real in that he +is the apotheosis of many tenderfeet, and that everything he does in +this narrative he has done at one time or another in the author's +experience. He is fictitious in the sense that he is in no way to be +identified with the third member of our party in the actual trip. + + + +CONTENTS + + I. THE RIDGE TRAIL + II. ON EQUIPMENT + III. ON HORSES + IV. HOW TO GO ABOUT IT + V. THE COAST RANGES + VI. THE INFERNO + VII. THE FOOT-HILLS + VIII. THE PINES + IX. THE TRAIL + X. ON SEEING DEER + XI. ON TENDERFEET + XII. THE CANON + XIII. TROUT, BUCKSKIN, AND PROSPECTORS + XIV. ON CAMP COOKERY + XV. ON THE WIND AT NIGHT + XVI. THE VALLEY + XVII. THE MAIN CREST + XVIII. THE GIANT FOREST + XIX. ON COWBOYS + XX. THE GOLDEN TROUT + XXI. ON GOING OUT + XXII. THE LURE OF THE TRAIL + + + + +THE MOUNTAINS + + + +I + +THE RIDGE TRAIL + +Six trails lead to the main ridge. They are all good trails, so that +even the casual tourist in the little Spanish-American town on the +seacoast need have nothing to fear from the ascent. In some spots they +contract to an arm's length of space, outside of which limit they drop +sheer away; elsewhere they stand up on end, zigzag in lacets each more +hair-raising than the last, or fill to demoralization with loose +boulders and shale. A fall on the part of your horse would mean a more +than serious accident; but Western horses do not fall. The major +premise stands: even the casual tourist has no real reason for fear, +however scared he may become. + +Our favorite route to the main ridge was by a way called the Cold +Spring Trail. We used to enjoy taking visitors up it, mainly because +you come on the top suddenly, without warning. Then we collected +remarks. Everybody, even the most stolid, said something. + +You rode three miles on the flat, two in the leafy and gradually +ascending creek-bed of a canon, a half hour of laboring steepness in +the overarching mountain lilac and laurel. There you came to a great +rock gateway which seemed the top of the world. At the gateway was a +Bad Place where the ponies planted warily their little hoofs, and the +visitor played "eyes front," and besought that his mount should not +stumble. + +Beyond the gateway a lush level canon into which you plunged as into a +bath; then again the laboring trail, up and always up toward the blue +California sky, out of the lilacs, and laurels, and redwood chaparral +into the manzanita, the Spanish bayonet, the creamy yucca, and the fine +angular shale of the upper regions. Beyond the apparent summit you +found always other summits yet to be climbed. And all at once, like +thrusting your shoulders out of a hatchway, you looked over the top. + +Then came the remarks. Some swore softly; some uttered appreciative +ejaculation; some shouted aloud; some gasped; one man uttered three +times the word "Oh,"--once breathlessly, Oh! once in awakening +appreciation, OH! once in wild enthusiasm, OH! Then invariably they +fell silent and looked. + +For the ridge, ascending from seaward in a gradual coquetry of +foot-hills, broad low ranges, cross-systems, canons, little flats, and +gentle ravines, inland dropped off almost sheer to the river below. +And from under your very feet rose, range after range, tier after tier, +rank after rank, in increasing crescendo of wonderful tinted mountains +to the main crest of the Coast Ranges, the blue distance, the +mightiness of California's western systems. The eye followed them up +and up, and farther and farther, with the accumulating emotion of a +wild rush on a toboggan. There came a point where the fact grew to be +almost too big for the appreciation, just as beyond a certain point +speed seems to become unbearable. It left you breathless, +wonder-stricken, awed. You could do nothing but look, and look, and +look again, tongue-tied by the impossibility of doing justice to what +you felt. And in the far distance, finally, your soul, grown big in a +moment, came to rest on the great precipices and pines of the greatest +mountains of all, close under the sky. + +In a little, after the change had come to you, a change definite and +enduring, which left your inner processes forever different from what +they had been, you turned sharp to the west and rode five miles along +the knife-edge Ridge Trail to where Rattlesnake Canon led you down and +back to your accustomed environment. + +To the left as you rode you saw, far on the horizon, rising to the +height of your eye, the mountains of the channel islands. Then the +deep sapphire of the Pacific, fringed with the soft, unchanging white +of the surf and the yellow of the shore. Then the town like a little +map, and the lush greens of the wide meadows, the fruit-groves, the +lesser ranges--all vivid, fertile, brilliant, and pulsating with +vitality. You filled your senses with it, steeped them in the beauty of +it. And at once, by a mere turn of the eyes, from the almost crude +insistence of the bright primary color of life, you faced the tenuous +azures of distance, the delicate mauves and amethysts, the lilacs and +saffrons of the arid country. + +This was the wonder we never tired of seeing for ourselves, of showing +to others. And often, academically, perhaps a little wistfully, as one +talks of something to be dreamed of but never enjoyed, we spoke of how +fine it would be to ride down into that land of mystery and +enchantment, to penetrate one after another the canons dimly outlined +in the shadows cast by the westering sun, to cross the mountains lying +outspread in easy grasp of the eye, to gain the distant blue Ridge, and +see with our own eyes what lay beyond. + +For to its other attractions the prospect added that of impossibility, +of unattainableness. These rides of ours were day rides. We had to +get home by nightfall. Our horses had to be fed, ourselves to be +housed. We had not time to continue on down the other side whither the +trail led. At the very and literal brink of achievement we were forced +to turn back. + +Gradually the idea possessed us. We promised ourselves that some day +we would explore. In our after-dinner smokes we spoke of it. +Occasionally, from some hunter or forest-ranger, we gained little items +of information, we learned the fascination of musical names--Mono +Canon, Patrera Don Victor, Lloma Paloma, Patrera Madulce, Cuyamas, +became familiar to us as syllables. We desired mightily to body them +forth to ourselves as facts. The extent of our mental vision expanded. +We heard of other mountains far beyond these farthest--mountains whose +almost unexplored vastnesses contained great forests, mighty valleys, +strong water-courses, beautiful hanging-meadows, deep canons of +granite, eternal snows,--mountains so extended, so wonderful, that +their secrets offered whole summers of solitary exploration. We came +to feel their marvel, we came to respect the inferno of the Desert that +hemmed them in. Shortly we graduated from the indefiniteness of +railroad maps to the intricacies of geological survey charts. The +fever was on us. We must go. + +A dozen of us desired. Three of us went; and of the manner of our +going, and what you must know who would do likewise, I shall try here +to tell. + + + +II + +ON EQUIPMENT + +If you would travel far in the great mountains where the trails are few +and bad, you will need a certain unique experience and skill. Before +you dare venture forth without a guide, you must be able to do a number +of things, and to do them well. + +First and foremost of all, you must be possessed of that strange sixth +sense best described as the sense of direction. By it you always know +about where you are. It is to some degree a memory for back-tracks and +landmarks, but to a greater extent an instinct for the lay of the +country, for relative bearings, by which you are able to make your way +across-lots back to your starting-place. It is not an uncommon +faculty, yet some lack it utterly. If you are one of the latter class, +do not venture, for you will get lost as sure as shooting, and being +lost in the mountains is no joke. + +Some men possess it; others do not. The distinction seems to be almost +arbitrary. It can be largely developed, but only in those with whom +original endowment of the faculty makes development possible. No matter +how long a direction-blind man frequents the wilderness, he is never +sure of himself. Nor is the lack any reflection on the intelligence. I +once traveled in the Black Hills with a young fellow who himself +frankly confessed that after much experiment he had come to the +conclusion he could not "find himself." He asked me to keep near him, +and this I did as well as I could; but even then, three times during +the course of ten days he lost himself completely in the tumultuous +upheavals and canons of that badly mixed region. Another, an old +grouse-hunter, walked twice in a circle within the confines of a thick +swamp about two miles square. On the other hand, many exhibit almost +marvelous skill in striking a bee-line for their objective point, and +can always tell you, even after an engrossing and wandering hunt, +exactly where camp lies. And I know nothing more discouraging than to +look up after a long hard day to find your landmarks changed in +appearance, your choice widened to at least five diverging and similar +canons, your pockets empty of food, and the chill mountain twilight +descending. + +Analogous to this is the ability to follow a dim trail. A trail in the +mountains often means merely a way through, a route picked out by some +prospector, and followed since at long intervals by chance travelers. + +It may, moreover, mean the only way through. Missing it will bring you +to ever-narrowing ledges, until at last you end at a precipice, and +there is no room to turn your horses around for the return. Some of +the great box canons thousands of feet deep are practicable by but one +passage,--and that steep and ingenious in its utilization of ledges, +crevices, little ravines, and "hog's-backs"; and when the only +indications to follow consist of the dim vestiges left by your last +predecessor, perhaps years before, the affair becomes one of +considerable skill and experience. You must be able to pick out +scratches made by shod hoofs on the granite, depressions almost filled +in by the subsequent fall of decayed vegetation, excoriations on fallen +trees. You must have the sense to know AT ONCE when you have overrun +these indications, and the patience to turn back immediately to your +last certainty, there to pick up the next clue, even if it should take +you the rest of the day. In short, it is absolutely necessary that you +be at least a persistent tracker. + +Parenthetically; having found the trail, be charitable. Blaze it, if +there are trees; otherwise "monument" it by piling rocks on top of one +another. Thus will those who come after bless your unknown shade. + +Third, you must know horses. I do not mean that you should be a +horse-show man, with a knowledge of points and pedigrees. But you must +learn exactly what they can and cannot do in the matters of carrying +weights, making distance, enduring without deterioration hard climbs in +high altitudes; what they can or cannot get over in the way of bad +places. This last is not always a matter of appearance merely. Some +bits of trail, seeming impassable to anything but a goat, a Western +horse will negotiate easily; while others, not particularly terrifying +in appearance, offer complications of abrupt turn or a single bit of +unstable, leg-breaking footing which renders them exceedingly +dangerous. You must, moreover, be able to manage your animals to the +best advantage in such bad places. Of course you must in the beginning +have been wise as to the selection of the horses. + +Fourth, you must know good horse-feed when you see it. Your animals +are depending entirely on the country; for of course you are carrying +no dry feed for them. Their pasturage will present itself under a +variety of aspects, all of which you must recognize with certainty. +Some of the greenest, lushest, most satisfying-looking meadows grow +nothing but water-grasses of large bulk but small nutrition; while +apparently barren tracts often conceal small but strong growths of +great value. You must differentiate these. + +Fifth, you must possess the ability to pare a hoof, fit a shoe cold, +nail it in place. A bare hoof does not last long on the granite, and +you are far from the nearest blacksmith. Directly in line with this, +you must have the trick of picking up and holding a hoof without being +kicked, and you must be able to throw and tie without injuring him any +horse that declines to be shod in any other way. + +Last, you must of course be able to pack a horse well, and must know +four or five of the most essential pack-"hitches." + +With this personal equipment you ought to be able to get through the +country. It comprises the absolutely essential. + +But further, for the sake of the highest efficiency, you should add, as +finish to your mountaineer's education, certain other items. A +knowledge of the habits of deer and the ability to catch trout with +fair certainty are almost a necessity when far from the base of +supplies. Occasionally the trail goes to pieces entirely: there you +must know something of the handling of an axe and pick. Learn how to +swim a horse. You will have to take lessons in camp-fire cookery. +Otherwise employ a guide. Of course your lungs, heart, and legs must +be in good condition. + +As to outfit, certain especial conditions will differentiate your needs +from those of forest and canoe travel. + +You will in the changing altitudes be exposed to greater variations in +temperature. At morning you may travel in the hot arid foot-hills; at +noon you will be in the cool shades of the big pines; towards evening +you may wallow through snowdrifts; and at dark you may camp where +morning will show you icicles hanging from the brinks of little +waterfalls. Behind your saddle you will want to carry a sweater, or +better still a buckskin waistcoat. Your arms are never cold anyway, +and the pockets of such a waistcoat, made many and deep, are handy +receptacles for smokables, matches, cartridges, and the like. For the +night-time, when the cold creeps down from the high peaks, you should +provide yourself with a suit of very heavy underwear and an extra +sweater or a buckskin shirt. The latter is lighter, softer, and more +impervious to the wind than the sweater. Here again I wish to place +myself on record as opposed to a coat. It is a useless ornament, +assumed but rarely, and then only as substitute for a handier garment. + +Inasmuch as you will be a great deal called on to handle abrading and +sometimes frozen ropes, you will want a pair of heavy buckskin +gauntlets. An extra pair of stout high-laced boots with small +Hungarian hob-nails will come handy. It is marvelous how quickly +leather wears out in the downhill friction of granite and shale. I +once found the heels of a new pair of shoes almost ground away by a +single giant-strides descent of a steep shale-covered +thirteen-thousand-foot mountain. Having no others I patched them with +hair-covered rawhide and a bit of horseshoe. It sufficed, but was a +long and disagreeable job which an extra pair would have obviated. + +Balsam is practically unknown in the high hills, and the rocks are +especially hard. Therefore you will take, in addition to your gray +army-blanket, a thick quilt or comforter to save your bones. This, +with your saddle-blankets and pads as foundation, should give you +ease--if you are tough. Otherwise take a second quilt. + +A tarpaulin of heavy canvas 17 x 6 feet goes under you, and can be, if +necessary, drawn up to cover your head. We never used a tent. Since +you do not have to pack your outfit on your own back, you can, if you +choose, include a small pillow. Your other personal belongings are +those you would carry into the Forest. I have elsewhere described what +they should be. + +Now as to the equipment for your horses. + +The most important point for yourself is your riding-saddle. The +cowboy or military style and seat are the only practicable ones. +Perhaps of these two the cowboy saddle is the better, for the simple +reason that often in roping or leading a refractory horse, the horn is +a great help. For steep-trail work the double cinch is preferable to +the single, as it need not be pulled so tight to hold the saddle in +place. + +Your riding-bridle you will make of an ordinary halter by riveting two +snaps to the lower part of the head-piece just above the corners of the +horse's mouth. These are snapped into the rings of the bit. At night +you unsnap the bit, remove it and the reins, and leave the halter part +on the horse. Each animal, riding and packing, has furthermore a short +lead-rope attached always to his halter-ring. + +Of pack-saddles the ordinary sawbuck tree is by all odds the best, +provided it fits. It rarely does. If you can adjust the wood +accurately to the anatomy of the individual horse, so that the side +pieces bear evenly and smoothly without gouging the withers or chafing +the back, you are possessed of the handiest machine made for the +purpose. Should individual fitting prove impracticable, get an old LOW +California riding-tree and have a blacksmith bolt an upright spike on +the cantle. You can hang the loops of the kyacks or alforjas--the +sacks slung on either side the horse--from the pommel and this iron +spike. Whatever the saddle chosen, it should be supplied with +breast-straps, breeching, and two good cinches. + +The kyacks or alforjas just mentioned are made either of heavy canvas, +or of rawhide shaped square and dried over boxes. After drying, the +boxes are removed, leaving the stiff rawhide like small trunks open at +the top. I prefer the canvas, for the reason that they can be folded +and packed for railroad transportation. If a stiffer receptacle is +wanted for miscellaneous loose small articles, you can insert a +soap-box inside the canvas. It cannot be denied that the rawhide will +stand rougher usage. + +Probably the point now of greatest importance is that of +saddle-padding. A sore back is the easiest thing in the world to +induce,--three hours' chafing will turn the trick,--and once it is done +you are in trouble for a month. No precautions or pains are too great +to take in assuring your pack-animals against this. On a pinch you +will give up cheerfully part of your bedding to the cause. However, +two good-quality woolen blankets properly and smoothly folded, a pad +made of two ordinary collar-pads sewed parallel by means of canvas +strips in such a manner as to lie along both sides of the backbone, a +well-fitted saddle, and care in packing will nearly always suffice. I +have gone months without having to doctor a single abrasion. + +You will furthermore want a pack-cinch and a pack-rope for each horse. +The former are of canvas or webbing provided with a ring at one end and +a big bolted wooden hook at the other. The latter should be half-inch +lines of good quality. Thirty-three feet is enough for packing only; +but we usually bought them forty feet long, so they could be used also +as picket-ropes. Do not fail to include several extra. They are +always fraying out, getting broken, being cut to free a fallen horse, +or becoming lost. + +Besides the picket-ropes, you will also provide for each horse a pair +of strong hobbles. Take them to a harness-maker and have him sew +inside each ankle-band a broad strip of soft wash-leather twice the +width of the band. This will save much chafing. Some advocate +sheepskin with the wool on, but this I have found tends to soak up +water or to freeze hard. At least two loud cow-bells with neck-straps +are handy to assist you in locating whither the bunch may have strayed +during the night. They should be hung on the loose horses most +inclined to wander. + +Accidents are common in the hills. The repair-kit is normally rather +comprehensive. Buy a number of extra latigos, or cinch-straps. +Include many copper rivets of all sizes--they are the best quick-repair +known for almost everything, from putting together a smashed +pack-saddle to cobbling a worn-out boot. Your horseshoeing outfit +should be complete with paring-knife, rasp, nail-set, clippers, hammer, +nails, and shoes. The latter will be the malleable soft iron, +low-calked "Goodenough," which can be fitted cold. Purchase a dozen +front shoes and a dozen and a half hind shoes. The latter wear out +faster on the trail. A box or so of hob-nails for your own boots, a +waxed end and awl, a whetstone, a file, and a piece of buckskin for +strings and patches complete the list. + +Thus equipped, with your grub supply, your cooking-utensils, your +personal effects, your rifle and your fishing-tackle, you should be +able to go anywhere that man and horses can go, entirely self-reliant, +independent of the towns. + + + +III + +ON HORSES + +I really believe that you will find more variation of individual and +interesting character in a given number of Western horses than in an +equal number of the average men one meets on the street. Their whole +education, from the time they run loose on the range until the time +when, branded, corralled, broken, and saddled, they pick their way +under guidance over a bad piece of trail, tends to develop their +self-reliance. They learn to think for themselves. + +To begin with two misconceptions, merely by way of clearing the ground: +the Western horse is generally designated as a "bronco." The term is +considered synonymous of horse or pony. This is not so. A horse is +"bronco" when he is ugly or mean or vicious or unbroken. So is a cow +"bronco" in the same condition, or a mule, or a burro. Again, from +certain Western illustrators and from a few samples, our notion of the +cow-pony has become that of a lean, rangy, wiry, thin-necked, scrawny +beast. Such may be found. But the average good cow-pony is apt to be +an exceedingly handsome animal, clean-built, graceful. This is +natural, when you stop to think of it, for he is descended direct from +Moorish and Arabian stock. + +Certain characteristics he possesses beyond the capabilities of the +ordinary horse. The most marvelous to me of these is his +sure-footedness. Let me give you a few examples. + +I once was engaged with a crew of cowboys in rounding up mustangs in +southern Arizona. We would ride slowly in through the hills until we +caught sight of the herds. Then it was a case of running them down and +heading them off, of turning the herd, milling it, of rushing it while +confused across country and into the big corrals. The surface of the +ground was composed of angular volcanic rocks about the size of your +two fists, between which the bunch-grass sprouted. An Eastern rider +would ride his horse very gingerly and at a walk, and then thank his +lucky stars if he escaped stumbles. The cowboys turned their mounts +through at a dead run. It was beautiful to see the ponies go, lifting +their feet well up and over, planting them surely and firmly, and +nevertheless making speed and attending to the game. Once, when we had +pushed the herd up the slope of a butte, it made a break to get through +a little hog-back. The only way to head it was down a series of rough +boulder ledges laid over a great sheet of volcanic rock. The man at +the hog-back put his little gray over the ledges and boulders, down the +sheet of rock,--hop, slip, slide,--and along the side hill in time to +head off the first of the mustangs. During the ten days of riding I +saw no horse fall. The animal I rode, Button by name, never even +stumbled. + +In the Black Hills years ago I happened to be one of the inmates of a +small mining-camp. Each night the work-animals, after being fed, were +turned loose in the mountains. As I possessed the only cow-pony in the +outfit, he was fed in the corral, and kept up for the purpose of +rounding up the others. Every morning one of us used to ride him out +after the herd. Often it was necessary to run him at full speed along +the mountain-side, over rocks, boulders, and ledges, across ravines and +gullies. Never but once in three months did he fall. + +On the trail, too, they will perform feats little short of marvelous. +Mere steepness does not bother them at all. They sit back almost on +their haunches, bunch their feet together, and slide. I have seen them +go down a hundred feet this way. In rough country they place their +feet accurately and quickly, gauge exactly the proper balance. I have +led my saddle-horse, Bullet, over country where, undoubtedly to his +intense disgust, I myself have fallen a dozen times in the course of a +morning. Bullet had no such troubles. Any of the mountain horses will +hop cheerfully up or down ledges anywhere. They will even walk a log +fifteen or twenty feet above a stream. I have seen the same trick +performed in Barnum's circus as a wonderful feat, accompanied by brass +bands and breathlessness. We accomplished it on our trip with out any +brass bands; I cannot answer for the breathlessness. As for steadiness +of nerve, they will walk serenely on the edge of precipices a man would +hate to look over, and given a palm's breadth for the soles of their +feet, they will get through. Over such a place I should a lot rather +trust Bullet than myself. + +In an emergency the Western horse is not apt to lose his head. When a +pack-horse falls down, he lies still without struggle until eased of +his pack and told to get up. If he slips off an edge, he tries to +double his fore legs under him and slide. Should he find himself in a +tight place, he waits patiently for you to help him, and then proceeds +gingerly. A friend of mine rode a horse named Blue. One day, the +trail being slippery with rain, he slid and fell. My friend managed a +successful jump, but Blue tumbled about thirty feet to the bed of the +canon. Fortunately he was not injured. After some difficulty my +friend managed to force his way through the chaparral to where Blue +stood. Then it was fine to see them. My friend would go ahead a few +feet, picking a route. When he had made his decision, he called Blue. +Blue came that far, and no farther. Several times the little horse +balanced painfully and unsteadily like a goat, all four feet on a +boulder, waiting for his signal to advance. In this manner they +regained the trail, and proceeded as though nothing had happened. +Instances could be multiplied indefinitely. + +A good animal adapts himself quickly. He is capable of learning by +experience. In a country entirely new to him he soon discovers the +best method of getting about, where the feed grows, where he can find +water. He is accustomed to foraging for himself. You do not need to +show him his pasturage. If there is anything to eat anywhere in the +district he will find it. Little tufts of bunch-grass growing +concealed under the edges of the brush, he will search out. If he +cannot get grass, he knows how to rustle for the browse of small +bushes. Bullet would devour sage-brush, when he could get nothing +else; and I have even known him philosophically to fill up on dry +pine-needles. There is no nutrition in dry pine-needles, but Bullet +got a satisfyingly full belly. On the trail a well-seasoned horse will +be always on the forage, snatching here a mouthful, yonder a single +spear of grass, and all without breaking the regularity of his gait, or +delaying the pack-train behind him. At the end of the day's travel he +is that much to the good. + +By long observation thus you will construct your ideal of the mountain +horse, and in your selection of your animals for an expedition you will +search always for that ideal. It is only too apt to be modified by +personal idiosyncrasies, and proverbially an ideal is difficult of +attainment; but you will, with care, come closer to its realization +than one accustomed only to the conventionality of an artificially +reared horse would believe possible. + +The ideal mountain horse, when you come to pick him out, is of medium +size. He should be not smaller than fourteen hands nor larger than +fifteen. He is strongly but not clumsily built, short-coupled, with +none of the snipy speedy range of the valley animal. You will select +preferably one of wide full forehead, indicating intelligence, low in +the withers, so the saddle will not be apt to gall him. His sureness +of foot should be beyond question, and of course he must be an expert +at foraging. A horse that knows but one or two kinds of feed, and that +starves unless he can find just those kinds, is an abomination. He +must not jump when you throw all kinds of rattling and terrifying +tarpaulins across him, and he must not mind if the pack-ropes fall +about his heels. In the day's march he must follow like a dog without +the necessity of a lead-rope, nor must he stray far when turned loose +at night. + +Fortunately, when removed from the reassuring environment of +civilization, horses are gregarious. They hate to be separated from the +bunch to which they are accustomed. Occasionally one of us would stop +on the trail, for some reason or another, thus dropping behind the +pack-train. Instantly the saddle-horse so detained would begin to grow +uneasy. Bullet used by all means in his power to try to induce me to +proceed. He would nibble me with his lips, paw the ground, dance in a +circle, and finally sidle up to me in the position of being mounted, +than which he could think of no stronger hint. Then when I had finally +remounted, it was hard to hold him in. He would whinny frantically, +scramble with enthusiasm up trails steep enough to draw a protest at +ordinary times, and rejoin his companions with every symptom of +gratification and delight. This gregariousness and alarm at being left +alone in a strange country tends to hold them together at night. You +are reasonably certain that in the morning, having found one, you will +come upon the rest not far away. + +The personnel of our own outfit we found most interesting. Although +collected from divergent localities they soon became acquainted. In a +crowded corral they were always compact in their organization, sticking +close together, and resisting as a solid phalanx encroachments on their +feed by other and stranger horses. Their internal organization was +very amusing. A certain segregation soon took place. Some became +leaders; others by common consent were relegated to the position of +subordinates. + +The order of precedence on the trail was rigidly preserved by the +pack-horses. An attempt by Buckshot to pass Dinkey, for example, the +latter always met with a bite or a kick by way of hint. If the gelding +still persisted, and tried to pass by a long detour, the mare would +rush out at him angrily, her ears back, her eyes flashing, her neck +extended. And since Buckshot was by no means inclined always to give +in meekly, we had opportunities for plenty of amusement. The two were +always skirmishing. When by a strategic short cut across the angle of a +trail Buckshot succeeded in stealing a march on Dinkey, while she was +nipping a mouthful, his triumph was beautiful to see. He never held +the place for long, however. Dinkey's was the leadership by force of +ambition and energetic character, and at the head of the pack-train she +normally marched. + +Yet there were hours when utter indifference seemed to fall on the +militant spirits. They trailed peacefully and amiably in the rear +while Lily or Jenny marched with pride in the coveted advance. But the +place was theirs only by sufferance. A bite or a kick sent them back +to their own positions when the true leaders grew tired of their +vacation. + +However rigid this order of precedence, the saddle-animals were +acknowledged as privileged;--and knew it. They could go where they +pleased. Furthermore theirs was the duty of correcting infractions of +the trail discipline, such as grazing on the march, or attempting +unauthorized short cuts. They appreciated this duty. Bullet always +became vastly indignant if one of the pack-horses misbehaved. He would +run at the offender angrily, hustle him to his place with savage nips +of his teeth, and drop back to his own position with a comical air of +virtue. Once in a great while it would happen that on my spurring up +from the rear of the column I would be mistaken for one of the +pack-horses attempting illegally to get ahead. Immediately Dinkey or +Buckshot would snake his head out crossly to turn me to the rear. It +was really ridiculous to see the expression of apology with which they +would take it all back, and the ostentatious, nose-elevated +indifference in Bullet's very gait as he marched haughtily by. So +rigid did all the animals hold this convention that actually in the San +Joaquin Valley Dinkey once attempted to head off a Southern Pacific +train. She ran at full speed diagonally toward it, her eyes striking +fire, her ears back, her teeth snapping in rage because the locomotive +would not keep its place behind her ladyship. + +Let me make you acquainted with our outfit. + +I rode, as you have gathered, an Arizona pony named Bullet. He was a +handsome fellow with a chestnut brown coat, long mane and tail, and a +beautiful pair of brown eyes. Wes always called him "Baby." He was in +fact the youngster of the party, with all the engaging qualities of +youth. I never saw a horse more willing. He wanted to do what you +wanted him to; it pleased him, and gave him a warm consciousness of +virtue which the least observant could not fail to remark. When +leading he walked industriously ahead, setting the pace; when +driving,--that is, closing up the rear,--he attended strictly to +business. Not for the most luscious bunch of grass that ever grew +would he pause even for an instant. Yet in his off hours, when I rode +irresponsibly somewhere in the middle, he was a great hand to forage. +Few choice morsels escaped him. He confided absolutely in his rider in +the matter of bad country, and would tackle anything I would put him +at. It seemed that he trusted me not to put him at anything that would +hurt him. This was an invaluable trait when an example had to be set +to the reluctance of the other horses. He was a great swimmer. +Probably the most winning quality of his nature was his extreme +friendliness. He was always wandering into camp to be petted, nibbling +me over with his lips, begging to have his forehead rubbed, thrusting +his nose under an elbow, and otherwise telling how much he thought of +us. Whoever broke him did a good job. I never rode a better-reined +horse. A mere indication of the bridle-hand turned him to right or +left, and a mere raising of the hand without the slightest pressure on +the bit stopped him short. And how well he understood cow-work! Turn +him loose after the bunch, and he would do the rest. All I had to do +was to stick to him. That in itself was no mean task, for he turned +like a flash, and was quick as a cat on his feet. At night I always +let him go foot free. He would be there in the morning, and I could +always walk directly up to him with the bridle in plain sight in my +hand. Even at a feedless camp we once made where we had shot a couple +of deer, he did not attempt to wander off in search of pasture, as +would most horses. He nosed around unsuccessfully until pitch dark, +then came into camp, and with great philosophy stood tail to the fire +until morning. I could always jump off anywhere for a shot, without +even the necessity of "tying him to the ground," by throwing the reins +over his head. He would wait for me, although he was never overfond of +firearms. + +Nevertheless Bullet had his own sense of dignity. He was literally as +gentle as a kitten, but he drew a line. I shall never forget how once, +being possessed of a desire to find out whether we could swim our +outfit across a certain stretch of the Merced River, I climbed him +bareback. He bucked me off so quickly that I never even got settled on +his back. Then he gazed at me with sorrow, while, laughing +irrepressibly at this unusual assertion of independent ideas, I picked +myself out of a wild-rose bush. He did not attempt to run away from +me, but stood to be saddled, and plunged boldly into the swift water +where I told him to. Merely he thought it disrespectful in me to ride +him without his proper harness. He was the pet of the camp. + +As near as I could make out, he had but one fault. He was altogether +too sensitive about his hind quarters, and would jump like a rabbit if +anything touched him there. + +Wes rode a horse we called Old Slob. Wes, be it premised, was an +interesting companion. He had done everything,--seal-hunting, +abalone-gathering, boar-hunting, all kinds of shooting, cow-punching in +the rough Coast Ranges, and all other queer and outlandish and +picturesque vocations by which a man can make a living. He weighed two +hundred and twelve pounds and was the best game shot with a rifle I +ever saw. + +As you may imagine, Old Slob was a stocky individual. He was built +from the ground up. His disposition was quiet, slow, honest. Above +all, he gave the impression of vast, very vast experience. Never did he +hurry his mental processes, although he was quick enough in his +movements if need arose. He quite declined to worry about anything. +Consequently, in spite of the fact that he carried by far the heaviest +man in the company, he stayed always fat and in good condition. There +was something almost pathetic in Old Slob's willingness to go on +working, even when more work seemed like an imposition. You could not +fail to fall in love with his mild inquiring gentle eyes, and his utter +trust in the goodness of human nature. His only fault was an excess of +caution. Old Slob was very very experienced. He knew all about +trails, and he declined to be hurried over what he considered a bad +place. Wes used sometimes to disagree with him as to what constituted +a bad place. "Some day you're going to take a tumble, you old fool," +Wes used to address him, "if you go on fiddling down steep rocks with +your little old monkey work. Why don't you step out?" Only Old Slob +never did take a tumble. He was willing to do anything for you, even +to the assuming of a pack. This is considered by a saddle-animal +distinctly as a come-down. + +The Tenderfoot, by the irony of fate, drew a tenderfoot horse. Tunemah +was a big fool gray that was constitutionally rattle-brained. He meant +well enough, but he didn't know anything. When he came to a bad place +in the trail, he took one good look--and rushed it. Constantly we +expected him to come to grief. It wore on the Tenderfoot's nerves. +Tunemah was always trying to wander off the trail, trying fool routes +of his own invention. If he were sent ahead to set the pace, he lagged +and loitered and constantly looked back, worried lest he get too far in +advance and so lose the bunch. If put at the rear, he fretted against +the bit, trying to push on at a senseless speed. In spite of his +extreme anxiety to stay with the train, he would once in a blue moon +get a strange idea of wandering off solitary through the mountains, +passing good feed, good water, good shelter. We would find him, after +a greater or less period of difficult tracking, perched in a silly +fashion on some elevation. Heaven knows what his idea was: it certainly +was neither search for feed, escape, return whence he came, nor desire +for exercise. When we came up with him, he would gaze mildly at us +from a foolish vacant eye and follow us peaceably back to camp. Like +most weak and silly people, he had occasional stubborn fits when you +could beat him to a pulp without persuading him. He was one of the +type already mentioned that knows but two or three kinds of feed. As +time went on he became thinner and thinner. The other horses +prospered, but Tunemah failed. He actually did not know enough to take +care of himself; and could not learn. Finally, when about two months +out, we traded him at a cow-camp for a little buckskin called Monache. + +So much for the saddle-horses. The pack-animals were four. + +A study of Dinkey's character and an experience of her characteristics +always left me with mingled feelings. At times I was inclined to think +her perfection: at other times thirty cents would have been esteemed by +me as a liberal offer for her. To enumerate her good points: she was +an excellent weight-carrier; took good care of her pack that it never +scraped nor bumped; knew all about trails, the possibilities of short +cuts, the best way of easing herself downhill; kept fat and healthy in +districts where grew next to no feed at all; was past-mistress in the +picking of routes through a trailless country. Her endurance was +marvelous; her intelligence equally so. In fact too great intelligence +perhaps accounted for most of her defects. She thought too much for +herself; she made up opinions about people; she speculated on just how +far each member of the party, man or beast, would stand imposition, and +tried conclusions with each to test the accuracy of her speculations; +she obstinately insisted on her own way in going up and down hill,--a +way well enough for Dinkey, perhaps, but hazardous to the other less +skillful animals who naturally would follow her lead. If she did +condescend to do things according to your ideas, it was with a mental +reservation. You caught her sardonic eye fixed on you contemptuously. +You felt at once that she knew another method, a much better method, +with which yours compared most unfavorably. "I'd like to kick you in +the stomach," Wes used to say; "you know too much for a horse!" + +If one of the horses bucked under the pack, Dinkey deliberately tried +to stampede the others--and generally succeeded. She invariably led +them off whenever she could escape her picket-rope. In case of trouble +of any sort, instead of standing still sensibly, she pretended to be +subject to wild-eyed panics. It was all pretense, for when you DID +yield to temptation and light into her with the toe of your boot, she +subsided into common sense. The spirit of malevolent mischief was hers. + +Her performances when she was being packed were ridiculously +histrionic. As soon as the saddle was cinched, she spread her legs +apart, bracing them firmly as though about to receive the weight of an +iron safe. Then as each article of the pack was thrown across her +back, she flinched and uttered the most heart-rending groans. We used +sometimes to amuse ourselves by adding merely an empty sack, or other +article quite without weight. The groans and tremblings of the braced +legs were quite as pitiful as though we had piled on a sack of flour. +Dinkey, I had forgotten to state, was a white horse, and belonged to +Wes. + +Jenny also was white and belonged to Wes. Her chief characteristic was +her devotion to Dinkey. She worshiped Dinkey, and seconded her +enthusiastically. Without near the originality of Dinkey, she was yet a +very good and sure pack-horse. The deceiving part about Jenny was her +eye. It was baleful with the spirit of evil,--snaky and black, and +with green sideways gleams in it. Catching the flash of it, you would +forever after avoid getting in range of her heels or teeth. But it was +all a delusion. Jenny's disposition was mild and harmless. + +The third member of the pack-outfit we bought at an auction sale in +rather a peculiar manner. About sixty head of Arizona horses of the C. +A. Bar outfit were being sold. Toward the close of the afternoon they +brought out a well-built stocky buckskin of first-rate appearance +except that his left flank was ornamented with five different brands. +The auctioneer called attention to him. + +"Here is a first-rate all-round horse," said he. "He is sound; will +ride, work, or pack; perfectly broken, mild, and gentle. He would make +a first-rate family horse, for he has a kind disposition." + +The official rider put a saddle on him to give him a demonstrating turn +around the track. Then that mild, gentle, perfectly broken family +horse of kind disposition gave about as pretty an exhibition of +barbed-wire bucking as you would want to see. Even the auctioneer had +to join in the wild shriek of delight that went up from the crowd. He +could not get a bid, and I bought the animal in later very cheaply. + +As I had suspected, the trouble turned out to be merely exuberance or +nervousness before a crowd. He bucked once with me under the saddle; +and twice subsequently under a pack,--that was all. Buckshot was the +best pack-horse we had. Bar an occasional saunter into the brush when +he got tired of the trail, we had no fault to find with him. He +carried a heavy pack, was as sure-footed as Bullet, as sagacious on the +trail as Dinkey, and he always attended strictly to his own business. +Moreover he knew that business thoroughly, knew what should be expected +of him, accomplished it well and quietly. His disposition was +dignified but lovable. As long as you treated him well, he was as +gentle as you could ask. But once let Buckshot get it into his head +that he was being imposed on, or once let him see that your temper had +betrayed you into striking him when he thought he did not deserve it, +and he cut loose vigorously and emphatically with his heels. He +declined to be abused. + +There remains but Lily. I don't know just how to do justice to +Lily--the "Lily maid." We named her that because she looked it. Her +color was a pure white, her eye was virginal and silly, her long bang +strayed in wanton carelessness across her face and eyes, her expression +was foolish, and her legs were long and rangy. She had the general +appearance of an overgrown school-girl too big for short dresses and +too young for long gowns;--a school-girl named Flossie, or Mamie, or +Lily. So we named her that. + +At first hers was the attitude of the timid and shrinking tenderfoot. +She stood in awe of her companions; she appreciated her lack of +experience. Humbly she took the rear; slavishly she copied the other +horses; closely she clung to camp. Then in a few weeks, like most +tenderfeet, she came to think that her short experience had taught her +everything there was to know. She put on airs. She became too cocky +and conceited for words. + +Everything she did was exaggerated, overdone. She assumed her pack with +an air that plainly said, "Just see what a good horse am I!" She +started out three seconds before the others in a manner intended to +shame their procrastinating ways. Invariably she was the last to rest, +and the first to start on again. She climbed over-vigorously, with the +manner of conscious rectitude. "Acts like she was trying to get her +wages raised," said Wes. + +In this manner she wore herself down. If permitted she would have +climbed until winded, and then would probably have fallen off somewhere +for lack of strength. Where the other horses watched the movements of +those ahead, in order that when a halt for rest was called they might +stop at an easy place on the trail, Lily would climb on until jammed +against the animal immediately preceding her. Thus often she found +herself forced to cling desperately to extremely bad footing until the +others were ready to proceed. Altogether she was a precious nuisance, +that acted busily but without thinking. + +Two virtues she did possess. She was a glutton for work; and she could +fall far and hard without injuring herself. This was lucky, for she +was always falling. Several times we went down to her fully expecting +to find her dead or so crippled that she would have to be shot. The +loss of a little skin was her only injury. She got to be quite +philosophic about it. On losing her balance she would tumble +peaceably, and then would lie back with an air of luxury, her eyes +closed, while we worked to free her. When we had loosened the pack, +Wes would twist her tail. Thereupon she would open one eye inquiringly +as though to say, "Hullo! Done already?" Then leisurely she would +arise and shake herself. + + + +IV + +ON HOW TO GO ABOUT IT + +One truth you must learn to accept, believe as a tenet of your faith, +and act upon always. It is that your entire welfare depends on the +condition of your horses. They must, as a consequence, receive always +your first consideration. As long as they have rest and food, you are +sure of getting along; as soon as they fail, you are reduced to +difficulties. So absolute is this truth that it has passed into an +idiom. When a Westerner wants to tell you that he lacks a thing, he +informs you he is "afoot" for it. "Give me a fill for my pipe," he +begs; "I'm plumb afoot for tobacco." + +Consequently you think last of your own comfort. In casting about for a +place to spend the night, you look out for good feed. That assured, +all else is of slight importance; you make the best of whatever camping +facilities may happen to be attached. If necessary you will sleep on +granite or in a marsh, walk a mile for firewood or water, if only your +animals are well provided for. And on the trail you often will work +twice as hard as they merely to save them a little. In whatever I may +tell you regarding practical expedients, keep this always in mind. + +As to the little details of your daily routine in the mountains, many +are worth setting down, however trivial they may seem. They mark the +difference between the greenhorn and the old-timer; but, more +important, they mark also the difference between the right and the +wrong, the efficient and the inefficient ways of doing things. + +In the morning the cook for the day is the first man afoot, usually +about half past four. He blows on his fingers, casts malevolent +glances at the sleepers, finally builds his fire and starts his meal. +Then he takes fiendish delight in kicking out the others. They do not +run with glad shouts to plunge into the nearest pool, as most camping +fiction would have us believe. Not they. The glad shout and nearest +pool can wait until noon when the sun is warm. They, too, blow on +their fingers and curse the cook for getting them up so early. All eat +breakfast and feel better. + +Now the cook smokes in lordly ease. One of the other men washes the +dishes, while his companion goes forth to drive in the horses. Washing +dishes is bad enough, but fumbling with frozen fingers at stubborn +hobble-buckles is worse. At camp the horses are caught, and each is +tied near his own saddle and pack. + +The saddle-horses are attended to first. Thus they are available for +business in case some of the others should make trouble. You will see +that your saddle-blankets are perfectly smooth, and so laid that the +edges are to the front where they are least likely to roll under or +wrinkle. After the saddle is in place, lift it slightly and loosen the +blanket along the back bone so it will not draw down tight under the +weight of the rider. Next hang your rifle-scabbard under your left +leg. It should be slanted along the horse's side at such an angle that +neither will the muzzle interfere with the animal's hind leg, nor the +butt with your bridle-hand. This angle must be determined by +experiment. The loop in front should be attached to the scabbard, so +it can be hung over the horn; that behind to the saddle, so the muzzle +can be thrust through it. When you come to try this method, you will +appreciate its handiness. Besides the rifle, you will carry also your +rope, camera, and a sweater or waistcoat for changes in temperature. +In your saddle bags are pipe and tobacco, perhaps a chunk of bread, +your note-book, and the map--if there is any. Thus your saddle-horse +is outfitted. Do not forget your collapsible rubber cup. About your +waist you will wear your cartridge-belt with six-shooter and +sheath-knife. I use a forty-five caliber belt. By threading a buck +skin thong in and out through some of the cartridge loops, their size +is sufficiently reduced to hold also the 30-40 rifle cartridges. Thus +I carry ammunition for both revolver and rifle in the one belt. The +belt should not be buckled tight about your waist, but should hang well +down on the hip. This is for two reasons. In the first place, it does +not drag so heavily at your anatomy, and falls naturally into position +when you are mounted. In the second place, you can jerk your gun out +more easily from a loose-hanging holster. Let your knife-sheath be so +deep as almost to cover the handle, and the knife of the very best +steel procurable. I like a thin blade. If you are a student of animal +anatomy, you can skin and quarter a deer with nothing heavier than a +pocket-knife. + +When you come to saddle the pack-horses, you must exercise even greater +care in getting the saddle-blankets smooth and the saddle in place. +There is some give and take to a rider; but a pack carries "dead," and +gives the poor animal the full handicap of its weight at all times. A +rider dismounts in bad or steep places; a pack stays on until the +morning's journey is ended. See to it, then, that it is on right. + +Each horse should have assigned him a definite and, as nearly as +possible, unvarying pack. Thus you will not have to search everywhere +for the things you need. + +For example, in our own case, Lily was known as the cook-horse. She +carried all the kitchen utensils, the fire-irons, the axe, and matches. +In addition her alforjas contained a number of little bags in which +were small quantities for immediate use of all the different sorts of +provisions we had with us. When we made camp we unpacked her near the +best place for a fire, and everything was ready for the cook. Jenny was +a sort of supply store, for she transported the main stock of the +provisions of which Lily's little bags contained samples. Dinkey +helped out Jenny, and in addition--since she took such good care of her +pack--was intrusted with the fishing-rods, the shot-gun, the +medicine-bag, small miscellaneous duffle, and whatever deer or bear +meat we happened to have. Buckshot's pack consisted of things not +often used, such as all the ammunition, the horse-shoeing outfit, +repair-kit, and the like. It was rarely disturbed at all. + +These various things were all stowed away in the kyacks or alforjas +which hung on either side. They had to be very accurately balanced. +The least difference in weight caused one side to sag, and that in turn +chafed the saddle-tree against the animal's withers. + +So far, so good. Next comes the affair of the top packs. Lay your +duffle-bags across the middle of the saddle. Spread the blankets and +quilts as evenly as possible. Cover all with the canvas tarpaulin +suitably folded. Everything is now ready for the pack-rope. + +The first thing anybody asks you when it is discovered that you know a +little something of pack-trains is, "Do you throw the Diamond Hitch?" +Now the Diamond is a pretty hitch and a firm one, but it is by no means +the fetish some people make of it. They would have you believe that it +represents the height of the packer's art; and once having mastered it, +they use it religiously for every weight, shape, and size of pack. The +truth of the matter is that the style of hitch should be varied +according to the use to which it is to be put. + +The Diamond is good because it holds firmly, is a great flattener, and +is especially adapted to the securing of square boxes. It is +celebrated because it is pretty and rather difficult to learn. Also it +possesses the advantage for single-handed packing that it can be thrown +slack throughout and then tightened, and that the last pull tightens +the whole hitch. However, for ordinary purposes, with a quiet horse +and a comparatively soft pack, the common Square Hitch holds well +enough and is quickly made. For a load of small articles and heavy +alforjas there is nothing like the Lone Packer. It too is a bit hard +to learn. Chiefly is it valuable because the last pulls draw the +alforjas away from the horse's sides, thus preventing their chafing +him. Of the many hitches that remain, you need learn, to complete your +list for all practical purposes, only the Bucking Hitch. It is +complicated, and takes time and patience to throw, but it is warranted +to hold your deck-load through the most violent storms bronco ingenuity +can stir up. + +These four will be enough. Learn to throw them, and take pains always +to throw them good and tight. A loose pack is the best expedient the +enemy of your soul could possibly devise. It always turns or comes to +pieces on the edge of things; and then you will spend the rest of the +morning trailing a wildly bucking horse by the burst and scattered +articles of camp duffle. It is furthermore your exhilarating task, +after you have caught him, to take stock, and spend most of the +afternoon looking for what your first search passed by. Wes and I once +hunted two hours for as large an object as a Dutch oven. After which +you can repack. This time you will snug things down. You should have +done so in the beginning. + +Next, the lead-ropes are made fast to the top of the packs. There is +here to be learned a certain knot. In case of trouble you can reach +from your saddle and jerk the whole thing free by a single pull on a +loose end. + +All is now ready. You take a last look around to see that nothing has +been left. One of the horsemen starts on ahead. The pack-horses swing +in behind. We soon accustomed ours to recognize the whistling of "Boots +and Saddles" as a signal for the advance. Another horseman brings up +the rear. The day's journey has begun. + +To one used to pleasure-riding the affair seems almost too deliberate. +The leader plods steadily, stopping from time to time to rest on the +steep slopes. The others string out in a leisurely procession. It does +no good to hurry. The horses will of their own accord stay in sight of +one another, and constant nagging to keep the rear closed up only +worries them without accomplishing any valuable result. In going +uphill especially, let the train take its time. Each animal is likely +to have his own ideas about when and where to rest. If he does, +respect them. See to it merely that there is no prolonged yielding to +the temptation of meadow feed, and no careless or malicious straying +off the trail. A minute's difference in the time of arrival does not +count. Remember that the horses are doing hard and continuous work on +a grass diet. + +The day's distance will not seem to amount to much in actual miles, +especially if, like most Californians, you are accustomed on a fresh +horse to make an occasional sixty or seventy between suns; but it ought +to suffice. There is a lot to be seen and enjoyed in a mountain mile. +Through the high country two miles an hour is a fair average rate of +speed, so you can readily calculate that fifteen make a pretty long +day. You will be afoot a good share of the time. If you were out from +home for only a few hours' jaunt, undoubtedly you would ride your horse +over places where in an extended trip you will prefer to lead him. It +is always a question of saving your animals. + +About ten o'clock you must begin to figure on water. No horse will +drink in the cool of the morning, and so, when the sun gets well up, he +will be thirsty. Arrange it. + +As to the method of travel, you can either stop at noon or push +straight on through. We usually arose about half past four; got under +way by seven; and then rode continuously until ready to make the next +camp. In the high country this meant until two or three in the +afternoon, by which time both we and the horses were pretty hungry. +But when we did make camp, the horses had until the following morning +to get rested and to graze, while we had all the remainder of the +afternoon to fish, hunt, or loaf. Sometimes, however, it was more +expedient to make a lunch-camp at noon. Then we allowed an hour for +grazing, and about half an hour to pack and unpack. It meant steady +work for ourselves. To unpack, turn out the horses, cook, wash dishes, +saddle up seven animals, and repack, kept us very busy. There remained +not much leisure to enjoy the scenery. It freshened the horses, +however, which was the main point. I should say the first method was +the better for ordinary journeys; and the latter for those times when, +to reach good feed, a forced march becomes necessary. + +On reaching the night's stopping-place, the cook for the day unpacks +the cook-horse and at once sets about the preparation of dinner. The +other two attend to the animals. And no matter how tired you are, or +how hungry you may be, you must take time to bathe their backs with +cold water; to stake the picket-animal where it will at once get good +feed and not tangle its rope in bushes, roots, or stumps; to hobble the +others; and to bell those inclined to wander. After this is done, it +is well, for the peace and well-being of the party, to take food. + +A smoke establishes you in the final and normal attitude of good humor. +Each man spreads his tarpaulin where he has claimed his bed. Said +claim is indicated by his hat thrown down where he wishes to sleep. It +is a mark of pre-emption which every one is bound to respect. Lay out +your saddle-blankets, cover them with your quilt, place the +sleeping-blanket on top, and fold over the tarpaulin to cover the +whole. At the head deposit your duffle-bag. Thus are you assured of a +pleasant night. + +About dusk you straggle in with trout or game. The camp-keeper lays +aside his mending or his repairing or his note-book, and stirs up the +cooking-fire. The smell of broiling and frying and boiling arises in +the air. By the dancing flame of the campfire you eat your third +dinner for the day--in the mountains all meals are dinners, and +formidable ones at that. The curtain of blackness draws down close. +Through it shine stars, loom mountains cold and mist-like in the moon. +You tell stories. You smoke pipes. After a time the pleasant chill +creeps down from the eternal snows. Some one throws another handful of +pine-cones on the fire. Sleepily you prepare for bed. The pine-cones +flare up, throwing their light in your eyes. You turn over and wrap +the soft woolen blanket close about your chin. You wink drowsily and +at once you are asleep. Along late in the night you awaken to find +your nose as cold as a dog's. You open one eye. A few coals mark +where the fire has been. The mist mountains have drawn nearer, they +seem to bend over you in silent contemplation. The moon is sailing +high in the heavens. + +With a sigh you draw the canvas tarpaulin over your head. Instantly it +is morning. + + + +V + +THE COAST RANGES + +At last, on the day appointed, we, with five horses, climbed the Cold +Spring Trail to the ridge; and then, instead of turning to the left, we +plunged down the zigzag lacets of the other side. That night we camped +at Mono Canon, feeling ourselves strangely an integral part of the +relief map we had looked upon so many times that almost we had come to +consider its features as in miniature, not capacious for the +accommodation of life-sized men. Here we remained a day while we rode +the hills in search of Dinkey and Jenny, there pastured. + +We found Jenny peaceful and inclined to be corralled. But Dinkey, +followed by a slavishly adoring brindle mule, declined to be rounded +up. We chased her up hill and down; along creek-beds and through the +spiky chaparral. Always she dodged craftily, warily, with forethought. +Always the brindled mule, wrapt in admiration at his companion's +cleverness, crashed along after. Finally we teased her into a narrow +canon. Wes and the Tenderfoot closed the upper end. I attempted to +slip by to the lower, but was discovered. Dinkey tore a frantic mile +down the side hill. Bullet, his nostrils wide, his ears back, raced +parallel in the boulder-strewn stream-bed, wonderful in his avoidance +of bad footing, precious in his selection of good, interested in the +game, indignant at the wayward Dinkey, profoundly contemptuous of the +besotted mule. At a bend in the canon interposed a steep bank. Up +this we scrambled, dirt and stones flying. I had just time to bend low +along the saddle when, with the ripping and tearing and scratching of +thorns, we burst blindly through a thicket. In the open space on the +farther side Bullet stopped, panting but triumphant. Dinkey, +surrounded at last, turned back toward camp with an air of utmost +indifference. The mule dropped his long ears and followed. + +At camp we corralled Dinkey, but left her friend to shift for himself. +Then was lifted up his voice in mulish lamentations until, cursing, we +had to ride out bareback and drive him far into the hills and there +stone him into distant fear. Even as we departed up the trail the +following day the voice of his sorrow, diminishing like the echo of +grief, appealed uselessly to Dinkey's sympathy. For Dinkey, once +captured, seemed to have shrugged her shoulders and accepted inevitable +toil with a real though cynical philosophy. + +The trail rose gradually by imperceptible gradations and occasional +climbs. We journeyed in the great canons. High chaparral flanked the +trail, occasional wide gray stretches of "old man" filled the air with +its pungent odor and with the calls of its quail. The crannies of the +rocks, the stretches of wide loose shale, the crumbling bottom earth +offered to the eye the dessicated beauties of creamy yucca, of yerba +buena, of the gaudy red paint-brushes, the Spanish bayonet; and to the +nostrils the hot dry perfumes of the semi-arid lands. The air was +tepid; the sun hot. A sing-song of bees and locusts and strange insects +lulled the mind. The ponies plodded on cheerfully. We expanded and +basked and slung our legs over the pommels of our saddles and were glad +we had come. + +At no time did we seem to be climbing mountains. Rather we wound in and +out, round and about, through a labyrinth of valleys and canons and +ravines, farther and farther into a mysterious shut-in country that +seemed to have no end. Once in a while, to be sure, we zigzagged up a +trifling ascent; but it was nothing. And then at a certain point the +Tenderfoot happened to look back. + +"Well!" he gasped; "will you look at that!" + +We turned. Through a long straight aisle which chance had placed just +there, we saw far in the distance a sheer slate-colored wall; and +beyond, still farther in the distance, overtopping the slate-colored +wall by a narrow strip, another wall of light azure blue. + +"It's our mountains," said Wes, "and that blue ridge is the channel +islands. We've got up higher than our range." + +We looked about us, and tried to realize that we were actually more +than halfway up the formidable ridge we had so often speculated on from +the Cold Spring Trail. But it was impossible. In a few moments, +however, our broad easy canon narrowed. Huge crags and sheer masses of +rock hemmed us in. The chaparral and yucca and yerba buena gave place +to pine-trees and mountain oaks, with little close clumps of +cottonwoods in the stream bottom. The brook narrowed and leaped, and +the white of alkali faded from its banks. We began to climb in good +earnest, pausing often for breath. The view opened. We looked back on +whence we had come, and saw again, from the reverse, the forty miles of +ranges and valleys we had viewed from the Ridge Trail. + +At this point we stopped to shoot a rattlesnake. Dinkey and Jenny took +the opportunity to push ahead. From time to time we would catch sight +of them traveling earnestly on, following the trail accurately, +stopping at stated intervals to rest, doing their work, conducting +themselves as decorously as though drivers had stood over them with +blacksnake whips. We tried a little to catch up. + +"Never mind," said Wes, "they've been over this trail before. They'll +stop when they get to where we're going to camp." + +We halted a moment on the ridge to look back over the lesser mountains +and the distant ridge, beyond which the islands now showed plainly. +Then we dropped down behind the divide into a cup valley containing a +little meadow with running water on two sides of it and big pines +above. The meadow was brown, to be sure, as all typical California is +at this time of year. But the brown of California and the brown of the +East are two different things. Here is no snow or rain to mat down the +grass, to suck out of it the vital principles. It grows ripe and sweet +and soft, rich with the life that has not drained away, covering the +hills and valleys with the effect of beaver fur, so that it seems the +great round-backed hills must have in a strange manner the yielding +flesh-elasticity of living creatures. The brown of California is the +brown of ripeness; not of decay. + +Our little meadow was beautifully named Madulce,[1] and was just below +the highest point of this section of the Coast Range. The air drank +fresh with the cool of elevation. We went out to shoot supper; and so +found ourselves on a little knoll fronting the brown-hazed east. As we +stood there, enjoying the breeze after our climb, a great wave of hot +air swept by us, filling our lungs with heat, scorching our faces as +the breath of a furnace. Thus was brought to our minds what, in the +excitement of a new country, we had forgotten,--that we were at last on +the eastern slope, and that before us waited the Inferno of the desert. + +That evening we lay in the sweet ripe grasses of Madulce, and talked of +it. Wes had been across it once before and did not possess much +optimism with which to comfort us. + +"It's hot, just plain hot," said he, "and that's all there is about it. +And there's mighty little water, and what there is is sickish and a +long ways apart. And the sun is strong enough to roast potatoes in." + +"Why not travel at night?" we asked. + +"No place to sleep under daytimes," explained Wes. "It's better to +keep traveling and then get a chance for a little sleep in the cool of +the night." + +We saw the reasonableness of that. + +"Of course we'll start early, and take a long nooning, and travel late. +We won't get such a lot of sleep." + +"How long is it going to take us?" + +Wes calculated. + +"About eight days," he said soberly. + +The next morning we descended from Madulce abruptly by a dirt trail, +almost perpendicular until we slid into a canon of sage-brush and +quail, of mescale cactus and the fierce dry heat of sun-baked shale. + +"Is it any hotter than this on the desert?" we inquired. + +Wes looked on us with pity. + +"This is plumb arctic," said he. + +Near noon we came to a little cattle ranch situated in a flat +surrounded by red dikes and buttes after the manner of Arizona. Here +we unpacked, early as it was, for through the dry countries one has to +apportion his day's journeys by the water to be had. If we went +farther to-day, then to-morrow night would find us in a dry camp. + +The horses scampered down the flat to search out alfilaria. We roosted +under a slanting shed,--where were stock saddles, silver-mounted bits +and spurs, rawhide riatas, branding-irons, and all the lumber of the +cattle business,--and hung out our tongues and gasped for breath and +earnestly desired the sun to go down or a breeze to come up. The +breeze shortly did so. It was a hot breeze, and availed merely to +cover us with dust, to swirl the stable-yard into our faces. Great +swarms of flies buzzed and lit and stung. Wes, disgusted, went over to +where a solitary cowpuncher was engaged in shoeing a horse. Shortly we +saw Wes pressed into service to hold the horse's hoof. He raised a +pathetic face to us, the big round drops chasing each other down it as +fast as rain. We grinned and felt better. + +The fierce perpendicular rays of the sun beat down. The air under the +shed grew stuffier and more oppressive, but it was the only patch of +shade in all that pink and red furnace of a little valley. The +Tenderfoot discovered a pair of horse-clippers, and, becoming slightly +foolish with the heat, insisted on our barbering his head. We told him +it was cooler with hair than without; and that the flies and sun would +be offered thus a beautiful opportunity, but without avail. So we +clipped him,--leaving, however, a beautiful long scalp-lock in the +middle of his crown. He looked like High-low-kickapoo-waterpot, chief +of the Wam-wams. After a while he discovered it, and was unhappy. + +Shortly the riders began to come in, jingling up to the shed, with a +rattle of spurs and bit-chains. There they unsaddled their horses, +after which, with great unanimity, they soused their heads in the +horse-trough. The chief, a six-footer, wearing beautifully decorated +gauntlets and a pair of white buckskin chaps, went so far as to say it +was a little warm for the time of year. In the freshness of evening, +when frazzled nerves had regained their steadiness, he returned to +smoke and yarn with us and tell us of the peculiarities of the cattle +business in the Cuyamas. At present he and his men were riding the +great mountains, driving the cattle to the lowlands in anticipation of +a rodeo the following week. A rodeo under that sun! + +We slept in the ranch vehicles, so the air could get under us. While +the stars still shone, we crawled out, tired and unrefreshed. The +Tenderfoot and I went down the valley after the horses. While we +looked, the dull pallid gray of dawn filtered into the darkness, and so +we saw our animals, out of proportion, monstrous in the half light of +that earliest morning. Before the range riders were even astir we had +taken up our journey, filching thus a few hours from the inimical sun. + +Until ten o'clock we traveled in the valley of the Cuyamas. The river +was merely a broad sand and stone bed, although undoubtedly there was +water below the surface. California rivers are said to flow bottom up. +To the northward were mountains typical of the arid countries,--boldly +defined, clear in the edges of their folds, with sharp shadows and +hard, uncompromising surfaces. They looked brittle and hollow, as +though made of papier mache and set down in the landscape. A long four +hours' noon we spent beneath a live-oak near a tiny spring. I tried to +hunt, but had to give it up. After that I lay on my back and shot +doves as they came to drink at the spring. It was better than walking +about, and quite as effective as regards supper. A band of cattle +filed stolidly in, drank, and filed as stolidly away. Some half-wild +horses came to the edge of the hill, stamped, snorted, essayed a +tentative advance. Them we drove away, lest they decoy our own +animals. The flies would not let us sleep. Dozens of valley and +mountain quail called with maddening cheerfulness and energy. By a +mighty exercise of will we got under way again. In an hour we rode out +into what seemed to be a grassy foot-hill country, supplied with a most +refreshing breeze. + +The little round hills of a few hundred feet rolled gently away to the +artificial horizon made by their closing in. The trail meandered white +and distinct through the clear fur-like brown of their grasses. Cattle +grazed. Here and there grew live-oaks, planted singly as in a park. +Beyond we could imagine the great plain, grading insensibly into these +little hills. + +And then all at once we surmounted a slight elevation, and found that +we had been traveling on a plateau, and that these apparent little +hills were in reality the peaks of high mountains. + +We stood on the brink of a wide smooth velvet-creased range that dipped +down and down to miniature canons far below. Not a single little +boulder broke the rounded uniformity of the wild grasses. Out from +beneath us crept the plain, sluggish and inert with heat. + +Threads of trails, dull white patches of alkali, vague brown areas of +brush, showed indeterminate for a little distance. But only for a +little distance. Almost at once they grew dim, faded in the thickness +of atmosphere, lost themselves in the mantle of heat that lay palpable +and brown like a shimmering changing veil, hiding the distance in +mystery and in dread. It was a land apart; a land to be looked on +curiously from the vantage-ground of safety,--as we were looking on it +from the shoulder of the mountain,--and then to be turned away from, to +be left waiting behind its brown veil for what might come. To abandon +the high country, deliberately to cut loose from the known, +deliberately to seek the presence that lay in wait,--all at once it +seemed the height of grotesque perversity. We wanted to turn on our +heels. We wanted to get back to our hills and fresh breezes and clear +water, to our beloved cheerful quail, to our trails and the sweet upper +air. + +For perhaps a quarter of an hour we sat our horses, gazing down. Some +unknown disturbance lazily rifted the brown veil by ever so little. We +saw, lying inert and languid, obscured by its own rank steam, a great +round lake. We knew the water to be bitter, poisonous. The veil drew +together again. Wes shook himself and sighed, "There she is,--damn +her!" said he. + + +[1] In all Spanish names the final e should be pronounced. + + + +VI + +THE INFERNO + +For eight days we did penance, checking off the hours, meeting doggedly +one after another the disagreeable things. We were bathed in heat; we +inhaled it; it soaked into us until we seemed to radiate it like so +many furnaces. A condition of thirst became the normal condition, to +be only slightly mitigated by a few mouthfuls from zinc canteens of +tepid water. Food had no attractions: even smoking did not taste good. +Always the flat country stretched out before us. We could see far +ahead a landmark which we would reach only by a morning's travel. +Nothing intervened between us and it. After we had looked at it a +while, we became possessed of an almost insane necessity to make a run +for it. The slow maddening three miles an hour of the pack-train drove +us frantic. There were times when it seemed that unless we shifted our +gait, unless we stepped outside the slow strain of patience to which +the Inferno held us relentlessly, we should lose our minds and run +round and round in circles--as people often do, in the desert. + +And when the last and most formidable hundred yards had slunk sullenly +behind us to insignificance, and we had dared let our minds relax from +the insistent need of self-control--then, beyond the cotton-woods, or +creek-bed, or group of buildings, whichever it might be, we made out +another, remote as paradise, to which we must gain by sunset. So again +the wagon-trail, with its white choking dust, its staggering sun, its +miles made up of monotonous inches, each clutching for a man's sanity. + +We sang everything we knew; we told stories; we rode cross-saddle, +sidewise, erect, slouching; we walked and led our horses; we shook the +powder of years from old worn jokes, conundrums, and puzzles,--and at +the end, in spite of our best efforts, we fell to morose silence and +the red-eyed vindictive contemplation of the objective point that would +not seem to come nearer. + +For now we lost accurate sense of time. At first it had been merely a +question of going in at one side of eight days, pressing through them, +and coming out on the other side. Then the eight days would be behind +us. But once we had entered that enchanted period, we found ourselves +more deeply involved. The seemingly limited area spread with startling +swiftness to the very horizon. Abruptly it was borne in on us that +this was never going to end; just as now for the first time we realized +that it had begun infinite ages ago. We were caught in the +entanglement of days. The Coast Ranges were the experiences of a past +incarnation: the Mountains were a myth. + +Nothing was real but this; and this would endure forever. We plodded +on because somehow it was part of the great plan that we should do so. +Not that it did any good:--we had long since given up such ideas. The +illusion was very real; perhaps it was the anodyne mercifully +administered to those who pass through the Inferno. + +Most of the time we got on well enough. One day, only, the Desert +showed her power. That day, at five of the afternoon, it was one +hundred and twenty degrees in the shade. And we, through necessity of +reaching the next water, journeyed over the alkali at noon. Then the +Desert came close on us and looked us fair in the eyes, concealing +nothing. She killed poor Deuce, the beautiful setter who had traveled +the wild countries so long; she struck Wes and the Tenderfoot from +their horses when finally they had reached a long-legged water tank; +she even staggered the horses themselves. And I, lying under a bush +where I had stayed after the others in the hope of succoring Deuce, +began idly shooting at ghostly jack-rabbits that looked real, but +through which the revolver bullets passed without resistance. + +After this day the Tenderfoot went water-crazy. Watering the horses +became almost a mania with him. He could not bear to pass even a +mud-hole without offering the astonished Tunemah a chance to fill up, +even though that animal had drunk freely not twenty rods back. As for +himself, he embraced every opportunity; and journeyed draped in many +canteens. + +After that it was not so bad. The thermometer stood from a hundred to +a hundred and five or six, to be sure, but we were getting used to it. +Discomfort, ordinary physical discomfort, we came to accept as the +normal environment of man. It is astonishing how soon uniformly +uncomfortable conditions, by very lack of contrast, do lose their power +to color the habit of mind. I imagine merely physical unhappiness is a +matter more of contrasts than of actual circumstances. We swallowed +dust; we humped our shoulders philosophically under the beating of the +sun, we breathed the debris of high winds; we cooked anyhow, ate +anything, spent long idle fly-infested hours waiting for the noon to +pass; we slept in horse-corrals, in the trail, in the dust, behind +stables, in hay, anywhere. There was little water, less wood for the +cooking. + +It is now all confused, an impression of events with out sequence, a +mass of little prominent purposeless things like rock conglomerate. I +remember leaning my elbows on a low window-ledge and watching a poker +game going on in the room of a dive. The light came from a sickly +suspended lamp. It fell on five players,--two miners in their +shirt-sleeves, a Mexican, a tough youth with side-tilted derby hat, and +a fat gorgeously dressed Chinaman. The men held their cards close to +their bodies, and wagered in silence. Slowly and regularly the great +drops of sweat gathered on their faces. As regularly they raised the +backs of their hands to wipe them away. Only the Chinaman, +broad-faced, calm, impassive as Buddha, save for a little crafty smile +in one corner of his eye, seemed utterly unaffected by the heat, cool +as autumn. His loose sleeve fell back from his forearm when he moved +his hand forward, laying his bets. A jade bracelet slipped back and +forth as smoothly as on yellow ivory. + +Or again, one night when the plain was like a sea of liquid black, and +the sky blazed with stars, we rode by a sheep-herder's camp. The +flicker of a fire threw a glow out into the dark. A tall wagon, a +group of silhouetted men, three or four squatting dogs, were squarely +within the circle of illumination. And outside, in the penumbra of +shifting half light, now showing clearly, now fading into darkness, +were the sheep, indeterminate in bulk, melting away by mysterious +thousands into the mass of night. We passed them. They looked up, +squinting their eyes against the dazzle of their fire. The night +closed about us again. + +Or still another: in the glare of broad noon, after a hot and trying +day, a little inn kept by a French couple. And there, in the very +middle of the Inferno, was served to us on clean scrubbed tables, a +meal such as one gets in rural France, all complete, with the potage, +the fish fried in oil, the wonderful ragout, the chicken and salad, the +cheese and the black coffee, even the vin ordinaire. I have forgotten +the name of the place, its location on the map, the name of its +people,--one has little to do with detail in the Inferno,--but that +dinner never will I forget, any more than the Tenderfoot will forget +his first sight of water the day when the Desert "held us up." + +Once the brown veil lifted to the eastward. We, souls struggling, saw +great mountains and the whiteness of eternal snow. That noon we +crossed a river, hurrying down through the flat plain, and in its +current came the body of a drowned bear-cub, an alien from the high +country. + +These things should have been as signs to our jaded spirits that we +were nearly at the end of our penance, but discipline had seared over +our souls, and we rode on unknowing. + +Then we came on a real indication. It did not amount to much. Merely +a dry river-bed; but the farther bank, instead of being flat, cut into +a low swell of land. We skirted it. Another swell of land, like the +sullen after-heave of a storm, lay in our way. Then we crossed a +ravine. It was not much of a ravine; in fact it was more like a slight +gouge in the flatness of the country. After that we began to see +oak-trees, scattered at rare intervals. So interested were we in them +that we did not notice rocks beginning to outcrop through the soil +until they had become numerous enough to be a feature of the landscape. +The hills, gently, quietly, without abrupt transition, almost as though +they feared to awaken our alarm by too abrupt movement of growth, +glided from little swells to bigger swells. The oaks gathered closer +together. The ravine's brother could almost be called a canon. The +character of the country had entirely changed. + +And yet, so gradually had this change come about that we did not awaken +to a full realization of our escape. To us it was still the plain, a +trifle modified by local peculiarity, but presently to resume its +wonted aspect. We plodded on dully, anodyned with the desert patience. + +But at a little before noon, as we rounded the cheek of a slope, we +encountered an errant current of air. It came up to us curiously, +touched us each in turn, and went on. The warm furnace heat drew in on +us again. But it had been a cool little current of air, with something +of the sweetness of pines and water and snow-banks in it. The +Tenderfoot suddenly reined in his horse and looked about him. + +"Boys!" he cried, a new ring of joy in his voice, "we're in the +foot-hills!" + +Wes calculated rapidly. "It's the eighth day to-day: I guessed right +on the time." + +We stretched our arms and looked about us. They were dry brown hills +enough; but they were hills, and they had trees on them, and canons in +them, so to our eyes, wearied with flatness, they seemed wonderful. + + + +VII + +THE FOOT-HILLS + +At once our spirits rose. We straightened in our saddles, we breathed +deep, we joked. The country was scorched and sterile; the wagon-trail, +almost paralleling the mountains themselves on a long easy slant toward +the high country, was ankle-deep in dust; the ravines were still dry of +water. But it was not the Inferno, and that one fact sufficed. After +a while we crossed high above a river which dashed white water against +black rocks, and so were happy. + +The country went on changing. The change was always imperceptible, as +is growth, or the stealthy advance of autumn through the woods. From +moment to moment one could detect no alteration. Something intangible +was taken away; something impalpable added. At the end of an hour we +were in the oaks and sycamores; at the end of two we were in the pines +and low mountains of Bret Harte's Forty-Nine. + +The wagon-trail felt ever farther and farther into the hills. It had +not been used as a stage-route for years, but the freighting kept it +deep with dust, that writhed and twisted and crawled lazily knee-high +to our horses, like a living creature. We felt the swing and sweep of +the route. The boldness of its stretches, the freedom of its reaches +for the opposite slope, the wide curve of its horseshoes, all filled us +with the breath of an expansion which as yet the broad low country only +suggested. + +Everything here was reminiscent of long ago. The very names hinted +stories of the Argonauts. Coarse Gold Gulch, Whiskey Creek, Grub +Gulch, Fine Gold Post-Office in turn we passed. Occasionally, with a +fine round dash into the open, the trail drew one side to a +stage-station. The huge stables, the wide corrals, the low +living-houses, each shut in its dooryard of blazing riotous flowers, +were all familiar. Only lacked the old-fashioned Concord coach, from +which to descend Jack Hamlin or Judge Starbottle. As for M'liss, she +was there, sunbonnet and all. + +Down in the gulch bottoms were the old placer diggings. Elaborate +little ditches for the deflection of water, long cradles for the +separation of gold, decayed rockers, and shining in the sun the tons +and tons of pay dirt which had been turned over pound by pound in the +concentrating of its treasure. Some of the old cabins still stood. It +was all deserted now, save for the few who kept trail for the +freighters, or who tilled the restricted bottom-lands of the flats. +Road-runners racked away down the paths; squirrels scurried over +worn-out placers; jays screamed and chattered in and out of the +abandoned cabins. Strange and shy little creatures and birds, +reassured by the silence of many years, had ventured to take to +themselves the engines of man's industry. And the warm California sun +embalmed it all in a peaceful forgetfulness. + +Now the trees grew bigger, and the hills more impressive. We should +call them mountains in the East. Pines covered them to the top, +straight slender pines with voices. The little flats were planted with +great oaks. When we rode through them, they shut out the hills, so +that we might have imagined ourselves in the level wooded country. +There insisted the effect of limitless tree-grown plains, which the +warm drowsy sun, the park-like landscape, corroborated. And yet the +contrast of the clear atmosphere and the sharp air equally insisted on +the mountains. It was a strange and delicious double effect, a +contradiction of natural impressions, a negation of our right to +generalize from previous experience. + +Always the trail wound up and up. Never was it steep; never did it +command an outlook. Yet we felt that at last we were rising, were +leaving the level of the Inferno, were nearing the threshold of the +high country. + +Mountain peoples came to the edges of their clearings and gazed at us, +responding solemnly to our salutations. They dwelt in cabins and held +to agriculture and the herding of the wild mountain cattle. From them +we heard of the high country to which we were bound. They spoke of it +as you or I would speak of interior Africa, as something inconceivably +remote, to be visited only by the adventurous, an uninhabited realm of +vast magnitude and unknown dangers. In the same way they spoke of the +plains. Only the narrow pine-clad strip between the two and six +thousand feet of elevation they felt to be their natural environment. +In it they found the proper conditions for their existence. Out of it +those conditions lacked. They were as much a localized product as are +certain plants which occur only at certain altitudes. Also were they +densely ignorant of trails and routes outside of their own little +districts. + +All this, you will understand, was in what is known as the low country. +The landscape was still brown; the streams but trickles; sage-brush +clung to the ravines; the valley quail whistled on the side hills. + +But one day we came suddenly into the big pines and rocks; and that +very night we made our first camp in a meadow typical of the mountains +we had dreamed about. + + + +VIII + +THE PINES + +I do not know exactly how to make you feel the charm of that first camp +in the big country. Certainly I can never quite repeat it in my own +experience. + +Remember that for two months we had grown accustomed to the brown of +the California landscape, and that for over a week we had traveled in +the Inferno. We had forgotten the look of green grass, of abundant +water; almost had we forgotten the taste of cool air. So invariably +had the trails been dusty, and the camping-places hard and exposed, +that we had come subconsciously to think of such as typical of the +country. Try to put yourself in the frame of mind those conditions +would make. + +Then imagine yourself climbing in an hour or so up into a high ridge +country of broad cup-like sweeps and bold outcropping ledges. Imagine +a forest of pine-trees bigger than any pines you ever saw +before,--pines eight and ten feet through, so huge that you can hardly +look over one of their prostrate trunks even from the back of your +pony. Imagine, further, singing little streams of ice-cold water, deep +refreshing shadows, a soft carpet of pine-needles through which the +faint furrow of the trail runs as over velvet. And then, last of all, +in a wide opening, clear as though chopped and plowed by some +back-woodsman, a park of grass, fresh grass, green as a precious stone. + +This was our first sight of the mountain meadows. From time to time we +found others, sometimes a half dozen in a day. The rough country came +down close about them, edging to the very hair-line of the magic +circle, which seemed to assure their placid sunny peace. An upheaval +of splintered granite often tossed and tumbled in the abandon of an +unrestrained passion that seemed irresistibly to overwhelm the sanities +of a whole region; but somewhere, in the very forefront of turmoil, was +like to slumber one of these little meadows, as unconscious of anything +but its own flawless green simplicity as a child asleep in mid-ocean. +Or, away up in the snows, warmed by the fortuity of reflected heat, its +emerald eye looked bravely out to the heavens. Or, as here, it rested +confidingly in the very heart of the austere forest. + +Always these parks are green; always are they clear and open. Their +size varies widely. Some are as little as a city lawn; others, like +the great Monache,[1] are miles in extent. In them resides the +possibility of your traveling the high country; for they supply the +feed for your horses. + +Being desert-weary, the Tenderfoot and I cried out with the joy of it, +and told in extravagant language how this was the best camp we had ever +made. + +"It's a bum camp," growled Wes. "If we couldn't get better camps than +this, I'd quit the game." + +He expatiated on the fact that this particular meadow was somewhat +boggy; that the feed was too watery; that there'd be a cold wind down +through the pines; and other small and minor details. But we, our +backs propped against appropriately slanted rocks, our pipes well +aglow, gazed down the twilight through the wonderful great columns of +the trees to where the white horses shone like snow against the +unaccustomed relief of green, and laughed him to scorn. What did +we--or the horses for that matter--care for trifling discomforts of the +body? In these intangible comforts of the eye was a great refreshment +of the spirit. + +The following day we rode through the pine forests growing on the +ridges and hills and in the elevated bowl-like hollows. These were not +the so-called "big trees,"--with those we had to do later, as you shall +see. They were merely sugar and yellow pines, but never anywhere have +I seen finer specimens. They were planted with a grand sumptuousness of +space, and their trunks were from five to twelve feet in diameter and +upwards of two hundred feet high to the topmost spear. Underbrush, +ground growth, even saplings of the same species lacked entirely, so +that we proceeded in the clear open aisles of a tremendous and spacious +magnificence. + +This very lack of the smaller and usual growths, the generous plan of +spacing, and the size of the trees themselves necessarily deprived us +of a standard of comparison. At first the forest seemed immense. But +after a little our eyes became accustomed to its proportions. We +referred it back to the measures of long experience. The trees, the +wood-aisles, the extent of vision shrunk to the normal proportions of +an Eastern pinery. And then we would lower our gaze. The pack-train +would come into view. It had become lilliputian, the horses small as +white mice, the men like tin soldiers, as though we had undergone an +enchantment. But in a moment, with the rush of a mighty +transformation, the great trees would tower huge again. + +In the pine woods of the mountains grows also a certain close-clipped +parasitic moss. In color it is a brilliant yellow-green, more yellow +than green. In shape it is crinkly and curly and tangled up with +itself like very fine shavings. In consistency it is dry and brittle. +This moss girdles the trunks of trees with innumerable parallel +inch-wide bands a foot or so apart, in the manner of old-fashioned +striped stockings. It covers entirely sundry twigless branches. Always +in appearance is it fantastic, decorative, almost Japanese, as though +consciously laid in with its vivid yellow-green as an intentional note +of a tone scheme. The somberest shadows, the most neutral twilights, +the most austere recesses are lighted by it as though so many freakish +sunbeams had severed relations with the parent luminary to rest quietly +in the coolnesses of the ancient forest. + +Underfoot the pine-needles were springy beneath the horse's hoof. The +trail went softly, with the courtesy of great gentleness. Occasionally +we caught sight of other ridges,--also with pines,--across deep sloping +valleys, pine filled. The effect of the distant trees seen from above +was that of roughened velvet, here smooth and shining, there dark with +rich shadows. On these slopes played the wind. In the level countries +it sang through the forest progressively: here on the slope it struck a +thousand trees at once. The air was ennobled with the great voice, as +a church is ennobled by the tones of a great organ. Then we would drop +back again to the inner country, for our way did not contemplate the +descents nor climbs, but held to the general level of a plateau. + +Clear fresh brooks ran in every ravine. Their water was snow-white +against the black rocks; or lay dark in bank-shadowed pools. As our +horses splashed across we could glimpse the rainbow trout flashing to +cover. Where the watered hollows grew lush were thickets full of +birds, outposts of the aggressively and cheerfully worldly in this +pine-land of spiritual detachment. Gorgeous bush-flowers, great of +petal as magnolias, with perfume that lay on the air like a heavy +drowsiness; long clear stretches of an ankle-high shrub of vivid +emerald, looking in the distance like sloping meadows of a peculiar +color-brilliance; patches of smaller flowers where for the trifling +space of a street's width the sun had unobstructed fall,--these from +time to time diversified the way, brought to our perceptions the +endearing trifles of earthiness, of humanity, befittingly to modify the +austerity of the great forest. At a brookside we saw, still fresh and +moist, the print of a bear's foot. From a patch of the little emerald +brush, a barren doe rose to her feet, eyed us a moment, and then +bounded away as though propelled by springs. We saw her from time to +time surmounting little elevations farther and farther away. + +The air was like cold water. We had not lung capacity to satisfy our +desire for it. There came with it a dry exhilaration that brought high +spirits, an optimistic viewpoint, and a tremendous keen appetite. It +seemed that we could never tire. In fact we never did. Sometimes, +after a particularly hard day, we felt like resting; but it was always +after the day's work was done, never while it was under way. The +Tenderfoot and I one day went afoot twenty-two miles up and down a +mountain fourteen thousand feet high. The last three thousand feet +were nearly straight up and down. We finished at a four-mile clip an +hour before sunset, and discussed what to do next to fill in the time. +When we sat down, we found we had had about enough; but we had not +discovered it before. + +All of us, even the morose and cynical Dinkey, felt the benefit of the +change from the lower country. Here we were definitely in the +Mountains. Our plateau ran from six to eight thousand feet in +altitude. Beyond it occasionally we could see three more ridges, +rising and falling, each higher than the last. And then, in the blue +distance, the very crest of the broad system called the +Sierras,--another wide region of sheer granite rising in peaks, +pinnacles, and minarets, rugged, wonderful, capped with the eternal +snows. + + +[1] Do not fail to sound the final e. + + + +IX + +THE TRAIL + +When you say "trail" to a Westerner, his eye lights up. This is +because it means something to him. To another it may mean something +entirely different, for the blessed word is of that rare and beautiful +category which is at once of the widest significance and the most +intimate privacy to him who utters it. To your mind leaps the picture +of the dim forest-aisles and the murmurings of tree-top breezes; to him +comes a vision of the wide dusty desert; to me, perhaps, a high wild +country of wonder. To all of us it is the slender, unbroken, +never-ending thread connecting experiences. + +For in a mysterious way, not to be understood, our trails never do end. +They stop sometimes, and wait patiently while we dive in and out of +houses, but always when we are ready to go on, they are ready too, and +so take up the journey placidly as though nothing had intervened. They +begin, when? Sometime, away in the past, you may remember a single +episode, vivid through the mists of extreme youth. Once a very little +boy walked with his father under a green roof of leaves that seemed +farther than the sky and as unbroken. All of a sudden the man raised +his gun and fired upwards, apparently through the green roof. A pause +ensued. Then, hurtling roughly through still that same green roof, a +great bird fell, hitting the earth with a thump. The very little boy +was I. My trail must have begun there under the bright green roof of +leaves. + +From that earliest moment the Trail unrolls behind you like a thread so +that never do you quite lose connection with your selves. There is +something a little fearful to the imaginative in the insistence of it. +You may camp, you may linger, but some time or another, sooner or +later, you must go on, and when you do, then once again the Trail takes +up its continuity without reference to the muddied place you have +tramped out in your indecision or indolence or obstinacy or necessity. +It would be exceedingly curious to follow out in patience the chart of +a man's going, tracing the pattern of his steps with all its windings +of nursery, playground, boys afield, country, city, plain, forest, +mountain, wilderness, home, always on and on into the higher country of +responsibility until at the last it leaves us at the summit of the +Great Divide. Such a pattern would tell his story as surely as do the +tracks of a partridge on the snow. + +A certain magic inheres in the very name, or at least so it seems to +me. I should be interested to know whether others feel the same +glamour that I do in the contemplation of such syllables as the Lo-Lo +Trail, the Tunemah Trail, the Mono Trail, the Bright Angel Trail. A +certain elasticity of application too leaves room for the more +connotation. A trail may be almost anything. There are wagon-trails +which East would rank as macadam roads; horse-trails that would compare +favorably with our best bridle-paths; foot-trails in the fur country +worn by constant use as smooth as so many garden-walks. Then again +there are other arrangements. I have heard a mule-driver overwhelmed +with skeptical derision because he claimed to have upset but six times +in traversing a certain bit of trail not over five miles long; in +charts of the mountains are marked many trails which are only "ways +through,"--you will find few traces of predecessors; the same can be +said of trails in the great forests where even an Indian is sometimes +at fault. "Johnny, you're lost," accused the white man. "Trail lost: +Injun here," denied the red man. And so after your experience has led +you by the campfires of a thousand delights, and each of those +campfires is on the Trail, which only pauses courteously for your stay +and then leads on untiring into new mysteries forever and ever, you +come to love it as the donor of great joys. You too become a +Westerner, and when somebody says "trail," your eye too lights up. + +The general impression of any particular trail is born rather of the +little incidents than of the big accidents. The latter are exotic, and +might belong to any time or places; the former are individual. For the +Trail is a vantage-ground, and from it, as your day's travel unrolls, +you see many things. Nine tenths of your experience comes thus, for in +the long journeys the side excursions are few enough and unimportant +enough almost to merit classification with the accidents. In time the +character of the Trail thus defines itself. + +Most of all, naturally, the kind of country has to do with this +generalized impression. Certain surprises, through trees, of vista +looking out over unexpected spaces; little notches in the hills beyond +which you gain to a placid far country sleeping under a sun warmer than +your elevation permits; the delicious excitement of the moment when you +approach the very knife-edge of the summit and wonder what lies +beyond,--these are the things you remember with a warm heart. Your +saddle is a point of vantage. By it you are elevated above the +country; from it you can see clearly. Quail scuttle away to right and +left, heads ducked low; grouse boom solemnly on the rigid limbs of +pines; deer vanish through distant thickets to appear on yet more +distant ridges, thence to gaze curiously, their great ears forward; +across the canon the bushes sway violently with the passage of a +cinnamon bear among them,--you see them all from your post of +observation. Your senses are always alert for these things; you are +always bending from your saddle to examine the tracks and signs that +continually offer themselves for your inspection and interpretation. + +Our trail of this summer led at a general high elevation, with +comparatively little climbing and comparatively easy traveling for days +at a time. Then suddenly we would find ourselves on the brink of a +great box canon from three to seven thousand feet deep, several miles +wide, and utterly precipitous. In the bottom of this canon would be +good feed, fine groves of trees, and a river of some size in which swam +fish. The trail to the canon-bed was always bad, and generally +dangerous. In many instances we found it bordered with the bones of +horses that had failed. The river had somehow to be forded. We would +camp a day or so in the good feed and among the fine groves of trees, +fish in the river, and then address ourselves with much reluctance to +the ascent of the other bad and dangerous trail on the other side. +After that, in the natural course of events, subject to variation, we +could expect nice trails, the comfort of easy travel, pines, cedars, +redwoods, and joy of life until another great cleft opened before us or +another great mountain-pass barred our way. + +This was the web and woof of our summer. But through it ran the +patterns of fantastic delight such as the West alone can offer a man's +utter disbelief in them. Some of these patterns stand out in memory +with peculiar distinctness. + +Below Farewell Gap is a wide canon with high walls of dark rock, and +down those walls run many streams of water. They are white as snow +with the dash of their descent, but so distant that the eye cannot +distinguish their motion. In the half light of dawn, with the yellow +of sunrise behind the mountains, they look like gauze streamers thrown +out from the windows of morning to celebrate the solemn pageant of the +passing of many hills. + +Again, I know of a canon whose westerly wall is colored in the dull +rich colors, the fantastic patterns of a Moorish tapestry. Umber, seal +brown, red, terra-cotta, orange, Nile green, emerald, purple, cobalt +blue, gray, lilac, and many other colors, all rich with the depth of +satin, glow wonderful as the craftiest textures. Only here the fabric +is five miles long and half a mile wide. + +There is no use in telling of these things. They, and many others of +their like, are marvels, and exist; but you cannot tell about them, for +the simple reason that the average reader concludes at once you must be +exaggerating, must be carried away by the swing of words. The cold +sober truth is, you cannot exaggerate. They haven't made the words. +Talk as extravagantly as you wish to one who will in the most childlike +manner believe every syllable you utter. Then take him into the Big +Country. He will probably say, "Why, you didn't tell me it was going +to be anything like THIS!" We in the East have no standards of +comparison either as regards size or as regards color--especially +color. Some people once directed me to "The Gorge" on the New England +coast. I couldn't find it. They led me to it, and rhapsodized over +its magnificent terror. I could have ridden a horse into the +ridiculous thing. As for color, no Easterner believes in it when such +men as Lungren or Parrish transposit it faithfully, any more than a +Westerner would believe in the autumn foliage of our own hardwoods, or +an Englishman in the glories of our gaudiest sunsets. They are all +true. + +In the mountains, the high mountains above the seven or eight thousand +foot level, grows an affair called the snow-plant. It is, when full +grown, about two feet in height, and shaped like a loosely constructed +pine-cone set up on end. Its entire substance is like wax, and the +whole concern--stalk, broad curling leaves, and all--is a brilliant +scarlet. Sometime you will ride through the twilight of deep pine woods +growing on the slope of the mountain, a twilight intensified, rendered +more sacred to your mood by the external brilliancy of a glimpse of +vivid blue sky above dazzling snow mountains far away. Then, in this +monotone of dark green frond and dull brown trunk and deep olive +shadow, where, like the ordered library of one with quiet tastes, +nothing breaks the harmony of unobtrusive tone, suddenly flames the +vivid red of a snow-plant. You will never forget it. + +Flowers in general seem to possess this concentrated brilliancy both of +color and of perfume. You will ride into and out of strata of perfume +as sharply defined as are the quartz strata on the ridges. They lie +sluggish and cloying in the hollows, too heavy to rise on the wings of +the air. + +As for color, you will see all sorts of queer things. The ordered +flower-science of your childhood has gone mad. You recognize some of +your old friends, but strangely distorted and changed,--even the dear +old "butter 'n eggs" has turned pink! Patches of purple, of red, of +blue, of yellow, of orange are laid in the hollows or on the slopes +like brilliant blankets out to dry in the sun. The fine grasses are +spangled with them, so that in the cup of the great fierce countries +the meadows seem like beautiful green ornaments enameled with jewels. +The Mariposa Lily, on the other hand, is a poppy-shaped flower varying +from white to purple, and with each petal decorated by an "eye" exactly +like those on the great Cecropia or Polyphemus moths, so that their +effect is that of a flock of gorgeous butterflies come to rest. They +hover over the meadows poised. A movement would startle them to +flight; only the proper movement somehow never comes. + +The great redwoods, too, add to the colored-edition impression of the +whole country. A redwood, as perhaps you know, is a tremendous big +tree sometimes as big as twenty feet in diameter. It is exquisitely +proportioned like a fluted column of noble height. Its bark is +slightly furrowed longitudinally, and of a peculiar elastic appearance +that lends it an almost perfect illusion of breathing animal life. The +color is a rich umber red. Sometimes in the early morning or the late +afternoon, when all the rest of the forest is cast in shadow, these +massive trunks will glow as though incandescent. The Trail, wonderful +always, here seems to pass through the outer portals of the great +flaming regions where dwell the risings and fallings of days. + +As you follow the Trail up, you will enter also the permanent +dwelling-places of the seasons. With us each visits for the space of a +few months, then steals away to give place to the next. Whither they +go you have not known until you have traveled the high mountains. +Summer lives in the valley; that you know. Then a little higher you +are in the spring-time, even in August. Melting patches of snow linger +under the heavy firs; the earth is soggy with half-absorbed snow-water, +trickling with exotic little rills that do not belong; grasses of the +year before float like drowned hair in pellucid pools with an air of +permanence, except for the one fact; fresh green things are sprouting +bravely; through bare branches trickles a shower of bursting buds, +larger at the top, as though the Sower had in passing scattered them +from above. Birds of extraordinary cheerfulness sing merrily to new +and doubtful flowers. The air tastes cold, but the sun is warm. The +great spring humming and promise is in the air. And a few thousand +feet higher you wallow over the surface of drifts while a winter wind +searches your bones. I used to think that Santa Claus dwelt at the +North Pole. Now I am convinced that he has a workshop somewhere among +the great mountains where dwell the Seasons, and that his reindeer paw +for grazing in the alpine meadows below the highest peaks. + +Here the birds migrate up and down instead of south and north. It must +be a great saving of trouble to them, and undoubtedly those who have +discovered it maintain toward the unenlightened the same delighted and +fraternal secrecy with which you and I guard the knowledge of a good +trout-stream. When you can migrate adequately in a single day, why +spend a month at it? + +Also do I remember certain spruce woods with openings where the sun +shone through. The shadows were very black, the sunlight very white. +As I looked back I could see the pack-horses alternately suffer eclipse +and illumination in a strange flickering manner good to behold. The +dust of the trail eddied and billowed lazily in the sun, each mote +flashing as though with life; then abruptly as it crossed the sharp +line of shade it disappeared. + +From these spruce woods, level as a floor, we came out on the rounded +shoulder of a mountain to find ourselves nearly nine thousand feet +above the sea. Below us was a deep canon to the middle of the earth. +And spread in a semicircle about the curve of our mountain a most +magnificent panoramic view. First there were the plains, represented by +a brown haze of heat; then, very remote, the foot-hills, the +brush-hills, the pine mountains, the upper timber, the tremendous +granite peaks, and finally the barrier of the main crest with its +glittering snow. From the plains to that crest was over seventy miles. +I should not dare say how far we could see down the length of the +range; nor even how distant was the other wall of the canon over which +we rode. Certainly it was many miles; and to reach the latter point +consumed three days. + +It is useless to multiply instances. The principle is well enough +established by these. Whatever impression of your trail you carry away +will come from the little common occurrences of every day. That is +true of all trails; and equally so, it seems to me, of our Trail of +Life sketched at the beginning of this essay. + +But the trail of the mountains means more than wonder; it means hard +work. Unless you stick to the beaten path, where the freighters have +lost so many mules that they have finally decided to fix things up a +bit, you are due for lots of trouble. Bad places will come to be a +nightmare with you and a topic of conversation with whomever you may +meet. We once enjoyed the company of a prospector three days while he +made up his mind to tackle a certain bit of trail we had just +descended. Our accounts did not encourage him. Every morning he used +to squint up at the cliff which rose some four thousand feet above us. +"Boys," he said finally as he started, "I may drop in on you later in +the morning." I am happy to say he did not. + +The most discouraging to the tenderfoot, but in reality the safest of +all bad trails, is the one that skirts a precipice. Your horse +possesses a laudable desire to spare your inside leg unnecessary +abrasion, so he walks on the extreme outer edge. If you watch the +performance of the animal ahead, you will observe that every few +moments his outer hind hoof slips off that edge, knocking little stones +down into the abyss. Then you conclude that sundry slight jars you have +been experiencing are from the same cause. Your peace of mind deserts +you. You stare straight ahead, sit VERY light indeed, and perhaps turn +the least bit sick. The horse, however, does not mind, nor will you, +after a little. There is absolutely nothing to do but to sit steady +and give your animal his head. In a fairly extended experience I never +got off the edge but once. Then somebody shot a gun immediately ahead; +my horse tried to turn around, slipped, and slid backwards until he +overhung the chasm. Fortunately his hind feet caught a tiny bush. He +gave a mighty heave, and regained the trail. Afterwards I took a look +and found that there were no more bushes for a hundred feet either way. + +Next in terror to the unaccustomed is an ascent by lacets up a very +steep side hill. The effect is cumulative. Each turn brings you one +stage higher, adds definitely one more unit to the test of your +hardihood. This last has not terrified you; how about the next? or the +next? or the one after that? There is not the slightest danger. You +appreciate this point after you have met head-on some old-timer. After +you have speculated frantically how you are to pass him, he solves the +problem by calmly turning his horse off the edge and sliding to the +next lacet below. Then you see that with a mountain horse it does not +much matter whether you get off such a trail or not. + +The real bad places are quite as likely to be on the level as on the +slant. The tremendous granite slides, where the cliff has avalanched +thousands of tons of loose jagged rock-fragments across the passage, +are the worst. There your horse has to be a goat in balance. He must +pick his way from the top of one fragment to the other, and if he slips +into the interstices he probably breaks a leg. In some parts of the +granite country are also smooth rock aprons where footing is especially +difficult, and where often a slip on them means a toboggan chute off +into space. I know of one spot where such an apron curves off the +shoulder of the mountain. Your horse slides directly down it until his +hoofs encounter a little crevice. Checking at this, he turns sharp to +the left and so off to the good trail again. If he does not check at +the little crevice, he slides on over the curve of the shoulder and +lands too far down to bury. + +Loose rocks in numbers on a very steep and narrow trail are always an +abomination, and a numerous abomination at that. A horse slides, +skates, slithers. It has always seemed to me that luck must count +largely in such a place. When the animal treads on a loose round +stone--as he does every step of the way--that stone is going to roll +under him, and he is going to catch himself as the nature of that stone +and the little gods of chance may will. Only furthermore I have +noticed that the really good horse keeps his feet, and the poor one +tumbles. A judgmatical rider can help a great deal by the delicacy of +his riding and the skill with which he uses his reins. Or better +still, get off and walk. + +Another mean combination, especially on a slant, is six inches of snow +over loose stones or small boulders. There you hope for divine favor +and flounder ahead. There is one compensation; the snow is soft to +fall on. Boggy areas you must be able to gauge the depth of at a +glance. And there are places, beautiful to behold, where a horse +clambers up the least bit of an ascent, hits his pack against a +projection, and is hurled into outer space. You must recognize these, +for he will be busy with his feet. + +Some of the mountain rivers furnish pleasing afternoons of sport. They +are deep and swift, and below the ford are rapids. If there is a +fallen tree of any sort across them,--remember the length of California +trees, and do not despise the rivers,--you would better unpack, carry +your goods across yourself, and swim the pack-horses. If the current +is very bad, you can splice riatas, hitch one end to the horse and the +other to a tree on the farther side, and start the combination. The +animal is bound to swing across somehow. Generally you can drive them +over loose. In swimming a horse from the saddle, start him well +upstream to allow for the current, and never, never, never attempt to +guide him by the bit. The Tenderfoot tried that at Mono Creek and +nearly drowned himself and Old Slob. You would better let him alone, +as he probably knows more than you do. If you must guide him, do it by +hitting the side of his head with the flat of your hand. + +Sometimes it is better that you swim. You can perform that feat by +clinging to his mane on the downstream side, but it will be easier both +for you and him if you hang to his tail. Take my word for it, he will +not kick you. + +Once in a blue moon you may be able to cross the whole outfit on logs. +Such a log bridge spanned Granite Creek near the North Fork of the San +Joaquin at an elevation of about seven thousand feet. It was suspended +a good twenty feet above the water, which boiled white in a most +disconcerting manner through a gorge of rocks. If anything fell off +that log it would be of no further value even to the curiosity seeker. +We got over all the horses save Tunemah. He refused to consider it, +nor did peaceful argument win. As he was more or less of a fool, we +did not take this as a reflection on our judgment, but culled cedar +clubs. We beat him until we were ashamed. Then we put a slip-noose +about his neck. The Tenderfoot and I stood on the log and heaved while +Wes stood on the shore and pushed. Suddenly it occurred to me that if +Tunemah made up his silly mind to come, he would probably do it all at +once, in which case the Tenderfoot and I would have about as much show +for life as fossil formations. I didn't say anything about it to the +Tenderfoot, but I hitched my six-shooter around to the front, resolved +to find out how good I was at wing-shooting horses. But Tunemah +declared he would die for his convictions. "All right," said we, "die +then," with the embellishment of profanity. So we stripped him naked, +and stoned him into the raging stream, where he had one chance in three +of coming through alive. He might as well be dead as on the other side +of that stream. He won through, however, and now I believe he'd tackle +a tight rope. + +Of such is the Trail, of such its wonders, its pleasures, its little +comforts, its annoyances, its dangers. And when you are forced to draw +your six-shooter to end mercifully the life of an animal that has +served you faithfully, but that has fallen victim to the leg-breaking +hazard of the way, then you know a little of its tragedy also. May you +never know the greater tragedy when a man's life goes out, and you +unable to help! May always your trail lead through fine trees, green +grasses, fragrant flowers, and pleasant waters! + + + +X + +ON SEEING DEER + +Once I happened to be sitting out a dance with a tactful young girl of +tender disposition who thought she should adapt her conversation to the +one with whom she happened to be talking. Therefore she asked +questions concerning out-of-doors. She knew nothing whatever about it, +but she gave a very good imitation of one interested. For some occult +reason people never seem to expect me to own evening clothes, or to +know how to dance, or to be able to talk about anything civilized; in +fact, most of them appear disappointed that I do not pull off a war-jig +in the middle of the drawing-room. + +This young girl selected deer as her topic. She mentioned liquid eyes, +beautiful form, slender ears; she said "cute," and "darlings," and +"perfect dears." Then she shuddered prettily. + +"And I don't see how you can ever BEAR to shoot them, Mr. White," she +concluded. + +"You quarter the onions and slice them very thin," said I dreamily. +"Then you take a little bacon fat you had left over from the flap-jacks +and put it in the frying-pan. The frying-pan should be very hot. While +the onions are frying, you must keep turning them over with a fork. +It's rather difficult to get them all browned without burning some. I +should broil the meat. A broiler is handy, but two willows, peeled and +charred a little so the willow taste won't penetrate the meat, will do. +Have the steak fairly thick. Pepper and salt it thoroughly. Sear it +well at first in order to keep the juices in; then cook rather slowly. +When it is done, put it on a hot plate and pour the browned onions, +bacon fat and all, over it." + +"What ARE you talking about?" she interrupted. + +"I'm telling you why I can bear to shoot deer," said I. + +"But I don't see--" said she. + +"Don't you?" said I. "Well; suppose you've been climbing a mountain +late in the afternoon when the sun is on the other side of it. It is a +mountain of big boulders, loose little stones, thorny bushes. The +slightest misstep would send pebbles rattling, brush rustling; but you +have gone all the way without making that misstep. This is quite a +feat. It means that you've known all about every footstep you've +taken. That would be business enough for most people, wouldn't it? +But in addition you've managed to see EVERYTHING on that side of the +mountain--especially patches of brown. You've seen lots of patches of +brown, and you've examined each one of them. Besides that, you've +heard lots of little rustlings, and you've identified each one of them. +To do all these things well keys your nerves to a high tension, doesn't +it? And then near the top you look up from your last noiseless step to +see in the brush a very dim patch of brown. If you hadn't been looking +so hard, you surely wouldn't have made it out. Perhaps, if you're not +humble-minded, you may reflect that most people wouldn't have seen it +at all. You whistle once sharply. The patch of brown defines itself. +Your heart gives one big jump. You know that you have but the briefest +moment, the tiniest fraction of time, to hold the white bead of your +rifle motionless and to press the trigger. It has to be done VERY +steadily, at that distance,--and you out of breath, with your nerves +keyed high in the tension of such caution." + +"NOW what are you talking about?" she broke in helplessly. + +"Oh, didn't I mention it?" I asked, surprised. "I was telling you why I +could bear to shoot deer." + +"Yes, but--" she began. + +"Of course not," I reassured her. "After all, it's very simple. The +reason I can bear to kill deer is because, to kill deer, you must +accomplish a skillful elimination of the obvious." + +My young lady was evidently afraid of being considered stupid; and also +convinced of her inability to understand what I was driving at. So she +temporized in the manner of society. + +"I see," she said, with an air of complete enlightenment. + +Now of course she did not see. Nobody could see the force of that last +remark without the grace of further explanation, and yet in the +elimination of the obvious rests the whole secret of seeing deer in the +woods. + +In traveling the trail you will notice two things: that a tenderfoot +will habitually contemplate the horn of his saddle or the trail a few +yards ahead of his horse's nose, with occasionally a look about at the +landscape; and the old-timer will be constantly searching the prospect +with keen understanding eyes. Now in the occasional glances the +tenderfoot takes, his perceptions have room for just so many +impressions. When the number is filled out he sees nothing more. +Naturally the obvious features of the landscape supply the basis for +these impressions. He sees the configuration of the mountains, the +nature of their covering, the course of their ravines, first of all. +Then if he looks more closely, there catches his eye an odd-shaped +rock, a burned black stub, a flowering bush, or some such matter. +Anything less striking in its appeal to the attention actually has not +room for its recognition. In other words, supposing that a man has the +natural ability to receive x visual impressions, the tenderfoot fills +out his full capacity with the striking features of his surroundings. +To be able to see anything more obscure in form or color, he must +naturally put aside from his attention some one or another of these +obvious features. He can, for example, look for a particular kind of +flower on a side hill only by refusing to see other kinds. + +If this is plain, then, go one step further in the logic of that +reasoning. Put yourself in the mental attitude of a man looking for +deer. His eye sweeps rapidly over a side hill; so rapidly that you +cannot understand how he can have gathered the main features of that +hill, let alone concentrate and refine his attention to the seeing of +an animal under a bush. As a matter of fact he pays no attention to the +main features. He has trained his eye, not so much to see things, as +to leave things out. The odd-shaped rock, the charred stub, the bright +flowering bush do not exist for him. His eye passes over them as +unseeing as yours over the patch of brown or gray that represents his +quarry. His attention stops on the unusual, just as does yours; only +in his case the unusual is not the obvious. He has succeeded by long +training in eliminating that. Therefore he sees deer where you do not. +As soon as you can forget the naturally obvious and construct an +artificially obvious, then you too will see deer. + +These animals are strangely invisible to the untrained eye even when +they are standing "in plain sight." You can look straight at them, and +not see them at all. Then some old woodsman lets you sight over his +finger exactly to the spot. At once the figure of the deer fairly +leaps into vision. I know of no more perfect example of the +instantaneous than this. You are filled with astonishment that you +could for a moment have avoided seeing it. And yet next time you will +in all probability repeat just this "puzzle picture" experience. + +The Tenderfoot tried for six weeks before he caught sight of one. He +wanted to very much. Time and again one or the other of us would hiss +back, "See the deer! over there by the yellow bush!" but before he +could bring the deliberation of his scrutiny to the point of +identification, the deer would be gone. Once a fawn jumped fairly +within ten feet of the pack-horses and went bounding away through the +bushes, and that fawn he could not help seeing. We tried +conscientiously enough to get him a shot; but the Tenderfoot was unable +to move through the brush less majestically than a Pullman car, so we +had ended by becoming apathetic on the subject. + +Finally, while descending a very abrupt mountain-side I made out a buck +lying down perhaps three hundred feet directly below us. The buck was +not looking our way, so I had time to call the Tenderfoot. He came. +With difficulty and by using my rifle-barrel as a pointer I managed to +show him the animal. Immediately he began to pant as though at the +finish of a mile race, and his rifle, when he leveled it, covered a +good half acre of ground. This would never do. + +"Hold on!" I interrupted sharply. + +He lowered his weapon to stare at me wild-eyed. + +"What is it?" he gasped. + +"Stop a minute!" I commanded. "Now take three deep breaths." + +He did so. + +"Now shoot," I advised, "and aim at his knees." + +The deer was now on his feet and facing us, so the Tenderfoot had the +entire length of the animal to allow for lineal variation. He fired. +The deer dropped. The Tenderfoot thrust his hat over one eye, rested +hand on hip in a manner cocky to behold. + +"Simply slaughter!" he proffered with lofty scorn. + +We descended. The bullet had broken the deer's back--about six inches +from the tail. The Tenderfoot had overshot by at least three feet. + +You will see many deer thus from the trail,--in fact, we kept up our +meat supply from the saddle, as one might say,--but to enjoy the finer +savor of seeing deer, you should start out definitely with that object +in view. Thus you have opportunity for the display of a certain finer +woodcraft. You must know where the objects of your search are likely +to be found, and that depends on the time of year, the time of days +their age, their sex, a hundred little things. When the bucks carry +antlers in the velvet, they frequent the inaccessibilities of the +highest rocky peaks, so their tender horns may not be torn in the +brush, but nevertheless so that the advantage of a lofty viewpoint may +compensate for the loss of cover. Later you will find them in the open +slopes of a lower altitude, fully exposed to the sun, that there the +heat may harden the antlers. Later still, the heads in fine condition +and tough to withstand scratches, they plunge into the dense thickets. +But in the mean time the fertile does have sought a lower country with +patches of small brush interspersed with open passages. There they can +feed with their fawns, completely concealed, but able, by merely +raising the head, to survey the entire landscape for the threatening of +danger. The barren does, on the other hand, you will find through the +timber and brush, for they are careless of all responsibilities either +to offspring or headgear. These are but a few of the considerations +you will take into account, a very few of the many which lend the deer +countries strange thrills of delight over new knowledge gained, over +crafty expedients invented or well utilized, over the satisfactory +matching of your reason, your instinct, your subtlety and skill against +the reason, instinct, subtlety, and skill of one of the wariest of +large wild animals. + +Perversely enough the times when you did NOT see deer are more apt to +remain vivid in your memory than the times when you did. I can still +see distinctly sundry wide jump-marks where the animal I was tracking +had evidently caught sight of me and lit out before I came up to him. +Equally, sundry little thin disappearing clouds of dust; cracklings of +brush, growing ever more distant; the tops of bushes waving to the +steady passage of something remaining persistently concealed,--these +are the chief ingredients often repeated which make up deer-stalking +memory. When I think of seeing deer, these things automatically rise. + +A few of the deer actually seen do, however, stand out clearly from the +many. When I was a very small boy possessed of a 32-20 rifle and large +ambitions, I followed the advantage my father's footsteps made me in +the deep snow of an unused logging-road. His attention was focused on +some very interesting fresh tracks. I, being a small boy, cared not at +all for tracks, and so saw a big doe emerge from the bushes not ten +yards away, lope leisurely across the road, and disappear, wagging +earnestly her tail. When I had recovered my breath I vehemently +demanded the sense of fooling with tracks when there were real live +deer to be had. My father examined me. + +"Well, why didn't you shoot her?" he inquired dryly. + +I hadn't thought of that. + +In the spring of 1900 I was at the head of the Piant River waiting for +the log-drive to start. One morning, happening to walk over a slashing +of many years before in which had grown a strong thicket of white +popples, I jumped a band of nine deer. I shall never forget the +bewildering impression made by the glancing, dodging, bouncing white of +those nine snowy tails and rumps. + +But most wonderful of all was a great buck, of I should be afraid to +say how many points, that stood silhouetted on the extreme end of a +ridge high above our camp. The time was just after twilight, and as we +watched, the sky lightened behind him in prophecy of the moon. + + + + +ON TENDERFEET + + + +XI + +ON TENDERFEET + +The tenderfoot is a queer beast. He makes more trouble than ants at a +picnic, more work than a trespassing goat; he never sees anything, +knows where anything is, remembers accurately your instructions, +follows them if remembered, or is able to handle without awkwardness +his large and pathetic hands and feet; he is always lost, always +falling off or into things, always in difficulties; his articles of +necessity are constantly being burned up or washed away or mislaid; he +looks at you beamingly through great innocent eyes in the most +chuckle-headed of manners; he exasperates you to within an inch of +explosion,--and yet you love him. + +I am referring now to the real tenderfoot, the fellow who cannot learn, +who is incapable ever of adjusting himself to the demands of the wild +life. Sometimes a man is merely green, inexperienced. But give him a +chance and he soon picks up the game. That is your greenhorn, not your +tenderfoot. Down near Monache meadows we came across an individual +leading an old pack-mare up the trail. The first thing, he asked us to +tell him where he was. We did so. Then we noticed that he carried his +gun muzzle-up in his hip-pocket, which seemed to be a nice way to shoot +a hole in your hand, but a poor way to make your weapon accessible. He +unpacked near us, and promptly turned the mare into a bog-hole because +it looked green. Then he stood around the rest of the evening and +talked deprecating talk of a garrulous nature. + +"Which way did you come?" asked Wes. + +The stranger gave us a hazy account of misnamed canons, by which we +gathered that he had come directly over the rough divide below us. + +"But if you wanted to get to Monache, why didn't you go around to the +eastward through that pass, there, and save yourself all the climb? It +must have been pretty rough through there." + +"Yes, perhaps so," he hesitated. "Still--I got lots of time--I can +take all summer, if I want to--and I'd rather stick to a straight +line--then you know where you ARE--if you get off the straight line, +you're likely to get lost, you know." + +We knew well enough what ailed him, of course. He was a tenderfoot, of +the sort that always, to its dying day, unhobbles its horses before +putting their halters on. Yet that man for thirty-two years had lived +almost constantly in the wild countries. He had traveled more miles +with a pack-train than we shall ever dream of traveling, and hardly +could we mention a famous camp of the last quarter century that he had +not blundered into. Moreover he proved by the indirections of his +misinformation that he had really been there and was not making ghost +stories in order to impress us. Yet if the Lord spares him thirty-two +years more, at the end of that time he will probably still be carrying +his gun upside down, turning his horse into a bog-hole, and blundering +through the country by main strength and awkwardness. He was a +beautiful type of the tenderfoot. + +The redeeming point of the tenderfoot is his humbleness of spirit and +his extreme good nature. He exasperates you with his fool performances +to the point of dancing cursing wild crying rage, and then accepts +your--well, reproofs--so meekly that you come off the boil as though +some one had removed you from the fire, and you feel like a low-browed +thug. + +Suppose your particular tenderfoot to be named Algernon. Suppose him +to have packed his horse loosely--they always do--so that the pack has +slipped, the horse has bucked over three square miles of assorted +mountains, and the rest of the train is scattered over identically that +area. You have run your saddle-horse to a lather heading the outfit. +You have sworn and dodged and scrambled and yelled, even fired your +six-shooter, to turn them and bunch them. In the mean time Algernon +has either sat his horse like a park policeman in his leisure hours, or +has ambled directly into your path of pursuit on an average of five +times a minute. Then the trouble dies from the landscape and the baby +bewilderment from his eyes. You slip from your winded horse and +address Algernon with elaborate courtesy. + +"My dear fellow," you remark, "did you not see that the thing for you +to do was to head them down by the bottom of that little gulch there? +Don't you really think ANYBODY would have seen it? What in hades do +you think I wanted to run my horse all through those boulders for? Do +you think I want to get him lame 'way up here in the hills? I don't +mind telling a man a thing once, but to tell it to him fifty-eight +times and then have it do no good-- Have you the faintest recollection +of my instructing you to turn the bight OVER instead of UNDER when you +throw that pack-hitch? If you'd remember that, we shouldn't have had +all this trouble." + +"You didn't tell me to head them by the little gulch," babbles Algernon. + +This is just the utterly fool reply that upsets your artificial and +elaborate courtesy. You probably foam at the mouth, and dance on your +hat, and shriek wild imploring imprecations to the astonished hills. +This is not because you have an unfortunate disposition, but because +Algernon has been doing precisely the same thing for two months. + +"Listen to him!" you howl. "Didn't tell him! Why you gangle-legged +bug-eyed soft-handed pop-eared tenderfoot, you! there are some things +you never THINK of telling a man. I never told you to open your mouth +to spit, either. If you had a hired man at five dollars a year who was +so all-around hopelessly thick-headed and incompetent as you are, you'd +fire him to-morrow morning." + +Then Algernon looks truly sorry, and doesn't answer back as he ought to +in order to give occasion for the relief of a really soul-satisfying +scrap, and utters the soft answer humbly. So your wrath is turned and +there remain only the dregs which taste like some of Algernon's cooking. + +It is rather good fun to relieve the bitterness of the heart. Let me +tell you a few more tales of the tenderfoot, premising always that I +love him, and when at home seek him out to smoke pipes at his fireside, +to yarn over the trail, to wonder how much rancor he cherishes against +the maniacs who declaimed against him, and by way of compensation to +build up in the mind of his sweetheart, his wife, or his mother a +fearful and wonderful reputation for him as the Terror of the Trail. +These tales are selected from many, mere samples of a varied +experience. They occurred here, there, and everywhere, and at various +times. Let no one try to lay them at the door of our Tenderfoot merely +because such is his title in this narrative. We called him that by way +of distinction. + +Once upon a time some of us were engaged in climbing a mountain rising +some five thousand feet above our starting-place. As we toiled along, +one of the pack-horses became impatient and pushed ahead. We did not +mind that, especially, as long as she stayed in sight, but in a little +while the trail was closed in by brush and timber. + +"Algernon," said we, "just push on and get ahead of that mare, will +you?" + +Algernon disappeared. We continued to climb. The trail was steep and +rather bad. The labor was strenuous, and we checked off each thousand +feet with thankfulness. As we saw nothing further of Algernon, we +naturally concluded he had headed the mare and was continuing on the +trail. Then through a little opening we saw him riding cheerfully +along without a care to occupy his mind. Just for luck we hailed him. + +"Hi there, Algernon! Did you find her?" + +"Haven't seen her yet." + +"Well, you'd better push on a little faster. She may leave the trail +at the summit." + +Then one of us, endowed by heaven with a keen intuitive instinct for +tenderfeet,--no one could have a knowledge of them, they are too +unexpected,--had an inspiration. + +"I suppose there are tracks on the trail ahead of you?" he called. + +We stared at each other, then at the trail. Only one horse had +preceded us,--that of the tenderfoot. But of course Algernon was +nevertheless due for his chuckle-headed reply. + +"I haven't looked," said he. + +That raised the storm conventional to such an occasion. + +"What in the name of seventeen little dicky-birds did you think you +were up to!" we howled. "Were you going to ride ahead until dark in +the childlike faith that that mare might show up somewhere? Here's a +nice state of affairs. The trail is all tracked up now with our +horses, and heaven knows whether she's left tracks where she turned +off. It may be rocky there." + +We tied the animals savagely, and started back on foot. It would be +criminal to ask our saddle-horses to repeat that climb. Algernon we +ordered to stay with them. + +"And don't stir from them no matter what happens, or you'll get lost," +we commanded out of the wisdom of long experience. + +We climbed down the four thousand odd feet, and then back again, +leading the mare. She had turned off not forty rods from where +Algernon had taken up her pursuit. + +Your Algernon never does get down to little details like tracks--his +scheme of life is much too magnificent. To be sure he would not know +fresh tracks from old if he should see them; so it is probably quite as +well. In the morning he goes out after the horses. The bunch he finds +easily enough, but one is missing. What would you do about it? You +would naturally walk in a circle around the bunch until you crossed the +track of the truant leading away from it, wouldn't you? If you made a +wide enough circle you would inevitably cross that track, wouldn't you? +provided the horse started out with the bunch in the first place. Then +you would follow the track, catch the horse, and bring him back. Is +this Algernon's procedure? Not any. "Ha!" says he, "old Brownie is +missing. I will hunt him up." Then he maunders off into the scenery, +trusting to high heaven that he is going to blunder against Brownie as +a prominent feature of the landscape. After a couple of hours you +probably saddle up Brownie and go out to find the tenderfoot. + +He has a horrifying facility in losing himself. Nothing is more +cheering than to arise from a hard-earned couch of ease for the purpose +of trailing an Algernon or so through the gathering dusk to the spot +where he has managed to find something--a very real despair of ever +getting back to food and warmth. Nothing is more irritating then than +his gratitude. + +I traveled once in the Black Hills with such a tenderfoot. We were off +from the base of supplies for a ten days' trip with only a saddle-horse +apiece. This was near first principles, as our total provisions +consisted of two pounds of oatmeal, some tea, and sugar. Among other +things we climbed Mt. Harney. The trail, after we left the horses, was +as plain as a strip of Brussels carpet, but somehow or another that +tenderfoot managed to get off it. I hunted him up. We gained the top, +watched the sunset, and started down. The tenderfoot, I thought, was +fairly at my coat-tails, but when I turned to speak to him he had gone; +he must have turned off at one of the numerous little openings in the +brush. I sat down to wait. By and by, away down the west slope of the +mountain, I heard a shot, and a faint, a very faint, despairing yell. +I, also, shot and yelled. After various signals of the sort, it became +evident that the tenderfoot was approaching. In a moment he tore by at +full speed, his hat off, his eye wild, his six-shooter popping at every +jump. He passed within six feet of me, and never saw me. Subsequently +I left him on the prairie, with accurate and simple instructions. + +"There's the mountain range. You simply keep that to your left and +ride eight hours. Then you'll see Rapid City. You simply CAN'T get +lost. Those hills stick out like a sore thumb." + +Two days later he drifted into Rapid City, having wandered off +somewhere to the east. How he had done it I can never guess. That is +his secret. + +The tenderfoot is always in hard luck. Apparently, too, by all tests +of analysis it is nothing but luck, pure chance, misfortune. And yet +the very persistence of it in his case, where another escapes, perhaps +indicates that much of what we call good luck is in reality unconscious +skill in the arrangement of those elements which go to make up events. +A persistently unlucky man is perhaps sometimes to be pitied, but more +often to be booted. That philosophy will be cryingly unjust about once +in ten. + +But lucky or unlucky, the tenderfoot is human. Ordinarily that doesn't +occur to you. He is a malevolent engine of destruction--quite as +impersonal as heat or cold or lack of water. He is an unfortunate +article of personal belonging requiring much looking after to keep in +order. He is a credulous and convenient response to practical jokes, +huge tales, misinformation. He is a laudable object of attrition for +the development of your character. But somehow, in the woods, he is +not as other men, and so you do not come to feel yourself in close +human relations to him. + +But Algernon is real, nevertheless. He has feelings, even if you do +not respect them. He has his little enjoyments, even though he does +rarely contemplate anything but the horn of his saddle. + +"Algernon," you cry, "for heaven's sake stick that saddle of yours in a +glass case and glut yourself with the sight of its ravishing beauties +next WINTER. For the present do gaze on the mountains. That's what you +came for." + +No use. + +He has, doubtless, a full range of all the appreciative emotions, +though from his actions you'd never suspect it. Most human of all, he +possesses his little vanities. + +Algernon always overdoes the equipment question. If it is +bird-shooting, he accumulates leggings and canvas caps and belts and +dog-whistles and things until he looks like a picture from a +department-store catalogue. In the cow country he wears Stetson hats, +snake bands, red handkerchiefs, six-shooters, chaps, and huge spurs +that do not match his face. If it is yachting, he has a chronometer +with a gong in the cabin of a five-ton sailboat, possesses a +nickle-plated machine to register the heel of his craft, sports a +brass-bound yachting-cap and all the regalia. This is merely amusing. +But I never could understand his insane desire to get sunburned. A man +will get sunburned fast enough; he could not help it if he would. +Algernon usually starts out from town without a hat. Then he dares not +take off his sweater for a week lest it carry away his entire face. I +have seen men with deep sores on their shoulders caused by nothing but +excessive burning in the sun. This, too, is merely amusing. It means +quite simply that Algernon realizes his inner deficiencies and wants to +make up for them by the outward seeming. Be kind to him, for he has +been raised a pet. + +The tenderfoot is lovable--mysterious in how he does it--and awfully +unexpected. + + + +XII + +THE CANON + +One day we tied our horses to three bushes, and walked on foot two +hundred yards. Then we looked down. + +It was nearly four thousand feet down. Do you realize how far that is? +There was a river meandering through olive-colored forests. It was so +distant that it was light green and as narrow as a piece of tape. Here +and there were rapids, but so remote that we could not distinguish the +motion of them, only the color. The white resembled tiny dabs of +cotton wool stuck on the tape. It turned and twisted, following the +turns and twists of the canon. Somehow the level at the bottom +resembled less forests and meadows than a heavy and sluggish fluid like +molasses flowing between the canon walls. It emerged from the bend of +a sheer cliff ten miles to eastward: it disappeared placidly around the +bend of another sheer cliff an equal distance to the westward. + +The time was afternoon. As we watched, the shadow of the canon wall +darkened the valley. Whereupon we looked up. + +Now the upper air, of which we were dwellers for the moment, was +peopled by giants and clear atmosphere and glittering sunlight, +flashing like silver and steel and precious stones from the granite +domes, peaks, minarets, and palisades of the High Sierras. Solid as +they were in reality, in the crispness of this mountain air, under the +tangible blue of this mountain sky, they seemed to poise light as so +many balloons. Some of them rose sheer, with hardly a fissure; some +had flung across their shoulders long trailing pine draperies, fine as +fur; others matched mantles of the whitest white against the bluest +blue of the sky. Towards the lower country were more pines rising in +ridges, like the fur of an animal that has been alarmed. + +We dangled our feet over the edge and talked about it. Wes pointed to +the upper end where the sluggish lava-like flow of the canon-bed first +came into view. + +"That's where we'll camp," said he. + +"When?" we asked. + +"When we get there," he answered. + +For this canon lies in the heart of the mountains. Those who would +visit it have first to get into the country--a matter of over a week. +Then they have their choice of three probabilities of destruction. + +The first route comprehends two final days of travel at an altitude of +about ten thousand feet, where the snow lies in midsummer; where there +is no feed, no comfort, and the way is strewn with the bones of horses. +This is known as the "Basin Trail." After taking it, you prefer the +others--until you try them. + +The finish of the second route is directly over the summit of a +mountain. You climb two thousand feet and then drop down five. The +ascent is heart-breaking but safe. The descent is hair-raising and +unsafe: no profanity can do justice to it. Out of a pack-train of +thirty mules, nine were lost in the course of that five thousand feet. +Legend has it that once many years ago certain prospectors took in a +Chinese cook. At first the Mongolian bewailed his fate loudly and +fluently, but later settled to a single terrified moan that sounded +like "tu-ne-mah! tu-ne-mah!" The trail was therefore named the +"Tu-ne-mah Trail." It is said that "tu-ne-mah" is the very worst +single vituperation of which the Chinese language is capable. + +The third route is called "Hell's Half Mile." It is not misnamed. + +Thus like paradise the canon is guarded; but like paradise it is +wondrous in delight. For when you descend you find that the tape-wide +trickle of water seen from above has become a river with profound +darkling pools and placid stretches and swift dashing rapids; that the +dark green sluggish flow in the canon-bed has disintegrated into a +noble forest with great pine-trees, and shaded aisles, and deep dank +thickets, and brush openings where the sun is warm and the birds are +cheerful, and groves of cottonwoods where all day long softly, like +snow, the flakes of cotton float down through the air. Moreover there +are meadows, spacious lawns, opening out, closing in, winding here and +there through the groves in the manner of spilled naphtha, actually +waist high with green feed, sown with flowers like a brocade. Quaint +tributary little brooks babble and murmur down through these trees, +down through these lawns. A blessed warm sun hums with the joy of +innumerable bees. To right hand and to left, in front of you and +behind, rising sheer, forbidding, impregnable, the cliffs, mountains, +and ranges hem you in. Down the river ten miles you can go: then the +gorge closes, the river grows savage, you can only look down the +tumbling fierce waters and turn back. Up the river five miles you can +go, then interpose the sheer snow-clad cliffs of the Palisades, and +them, rising a matter of fourteen thousand feet, you may not cross. +You are shut in your paradise as completely as though surrounded by +iron bars. + +But, too, the world is shut out. The paradise is yours. In it are +trout and deer and grouse and bear and lazy happy days. Your horses +feed to the fatness of butter. You wander at will in the ample though +definite limits of your domain. You lie on your back and examine +dispassionately, with an interest entirely detached, the huge +cliff-walls of the valley. Days slip by. Really, it needs at least an +angel with a flaming sword to force you to move on. + +We turned away from our view and addressed ourselves to the task of +finding out just when we were going to get there. The first day we +bobbed up and over innumerable little ridges of a few hundred feet +elevation, crossed several streams, and skirted the wide bowl-like +amphitheatre of a basin. The second day we climbed over things and +finally ended in a small hanging park named Alpine Meadows, at an +elevation of eight thousand five hundred feet. There we rested-over a +day, camped under a single pine-tree, with the quick-growing mountain +grasses thick about us, a semicircle of mountains on three sides, and +the plunge into the canon on the other. As we needed meat, we spent +part of the day in finding a deer. The rest of the time we watched +idly for bear. + +Bears are great travelers. They will often go twenty miles overnight, +apparently for the sheer delight of being on the move. Also are they +exceedingly loath to expend unnecessary energy in getting to places, +and they hate to go down steep hills. You see, their fore legs are +short. Therefore they are skilled in the choice of easy routes through +the mountains, and once having made the choice they stick to it until +through certain narrow places on the route selected they have worn a +trail as smooth as a garden-path. The old prospectors used quite +occasionally to pick out the horse-passes by trusting in general to the +bear migrations, and many a well-traveled route of to-day is +superimposed over the way-through picked out by old bruin long ago. + +Of such was our own trail. Therefore we kept our rifles at hand and +our eyes open for a straggler. But none came, though we baited craftily +with portions of our deer. All we gained was a rattlesnake, and he +seemed a bit out of place so high up in the air. + +Mount Tunemah stood over against us, still twenty-two hundred feet +above our elevation. We gazed on it sadly, for directly by its summit, +and for five hours beyond, lay our trail, and evil of reputation was +that trail beyond all others. The horses, as we bunched them in +preparation for the packing, took on a new interest, for it was on the +cards that the unpacking at evening would find some missing from the +ranks. + +"Lily's a goner, sure," said Wes. "I don't know how she's got this far +except by drunken man's luck. She'll never make the Tunemah." + +"And Tunemah himself," pointed out the Tenderfoot, naming his own fool +horse; "I see where I start in to walk." + +"Sort of a 'morituri te salutamur,'" said I. + +We climbed the two thousand two hundred feet, leading our saddle-horses +to save their strength. Every twenty feet we rested, breathing heavily +of the rarified air. Then at the top of the world we paused on the +brink of nothing to tighten cinches, while the cold wind swept by us, +the snow glittered in a sunlight become silvery like that of early +April, and the giant peaks of the High Sierras lifted into a distance +inconceivably remote, as though the horizon had been set back for their +accommodation. + +To our left lay a windrow of snow such as you will see drifted into a +sharp crest across a corner of your yard; only this windrow was twenty +feet high and packed solid by the sun, the wind, and the weight of its +age. We climbed it and looked over directly into the eye of a round +Alpine lake seven or eight hundred feet below. It was of an intense +cobalt blue, a color to be seen only in these glacial bodies of water, +deep and rich as the mantle of a merchant of Tyre. White ice floated +in it. The savage fierce granite needles and knife-edges of the +mountain crest hemmed it about. + +But this was temporizing, and we knew it. The first drop of the trail +was so steep that we could flip a pebble to the first level of it, and +so rough in its water-and-snow-gouged knuckles of rocks that it seemed +that at the first step a horse must necessarily fall end over end. We +made it successfully, however, and breathed deep. Even Lily, by a +miracle of lucky scrambling, did not even stumble. + +"Now she's easy for a little ways," said Wes, "then we'll get busy." + +When we "got busy" we took our guns in our hands to preserve them from +a fall, and started in. Two more miracles saved Dinkey at two more +places. We spent an hour at one spot, and finally built a new trail +around it. Six times a minute we held our breaths and stood on tiptoe +with anxiety, powerless to help, while the horse did his best. At the +especially bad places we checked them off one after another, +congratulating ourselves on so much saved as each came across without +accident. When there were no bad places, the trail was so +extraordinarily steep that we ahead were in constant dread of a horse's +falling on us from behind, and our legs did become wearied to incipient +paralysis by the constant stiff checking of the descent. Moreover +every second or so one of the big loose stones with which the trail was +cumbered would be dislodged and come bouncing down among us. We dodged +and swore; the horses kicked; we all feared for the integrity of our +legs. The day was full of an intense nervous strain, an entire +absorption in the precise present. We promptly forgot a difficulty as +soon as we were by it: we had not time to think of those still ahead. +All outside the insistence of the moment was blurred and unimportant, +like a specialized focus, so I cannot tell you much about the scenery. +The only outside impression we received was that the canon floor was +slowly rising to meet us. + +Then strangely enough, as it seemed, we stepped off to level ground. + +Our watches said half-past three. We had made five miles in a little +under seven hours. + +Remained only the crossing of the river. This was no mean task, but we +accomplished it lightly, searching out a ford. There were high +grasses, and on the other side of them a grove of very tall +cottonwoods, clean as a park. First of all we cooked things; then we +spread things; then we lay on our backs and smoked things, our hands +clasped back of our heads. We cocked ironical eyes at the sheer cliff +of old Mount Tunemah, very much as a man would cock his eye at a tiger +in a cage. + +Already the meat-hawks, the fluffy Canada jays, had found us out, and +were prepared to swoop down boldly on whatever offered to their +predatory skill. We had nothing for them yet,--there were no remains of +the lunch,--but the fire-irons were out, and ribs of venison were +roasting slowly over the coals in preparation for the evening meal. +Directly opposite, visible through the lattice of the trees, were two +huge mountain peaks, part of the wall that shut us in, over against us +in a height we had not dared ascribe to the sky itself. By and by the +shadow of these mountains rose on the westerly wall. It crept up at +first slowly, extinguishing color; afterwards more rapidly as the sun +approached the horizon. The sunlight disappeared. A moment's gray +intervened, and then the wonderful golden afterglow laid on the peaks +its enchantment. Little by little that too faded, until at last, far +away, through a rift in the ranks of the giants, but one remained +gilded by the glory of a dream that continued with it after the others. +Heretofore it had seemed to us an insignificant peak, apparently +overtopped by many, but by this token we knew it to be the highest of +them all. + +Then ensued another pause, as though to give the invisible +scene-shifter time to accomplish his work, followed by a shower of +evening coolness, that seemed to sift through the trees like a soft and +gentle rain. We ate again by the flicker of the fire, dabbing a trifle +uncertainly at the food, wondering at the distant mountain on which the +Day had made its final stand, shrinking a little before the stealthy +dark that flowed down the canon in the manner of a heavy smoke. + +In the notch between the two huge mountains blazed a star,--accurately +in the notch, like the front sight of a rifle sighted into the +marvelous depths of space. Then the moon rose. + +First we knew of it when it touched the crest of our two mountains. +The night has strange effects on the hills. A moment before they had +menaced black and sullen against the sky, but at the touch of the moon +their very substance seemed to dissolve, leaving in the upper +atmosphere the airiest, most nebulous, fragile, ghostly simulacrums of +themselves you could imagine in the realms of fairy-land. They seemed +actually to float, to poise like cloud-shapes about to dissolve. And +against them were cast the inky silhouettes of three fir-trees in the +shadow near at hand. + +Down over the stones rolled the river, crying out to us with the voices +of old accustomed friends in another wilderness. The winds rustled. + + + +XIII + +TROUT, BUCKSKIN, AND PROSPECTORS + +As I have said, a river flows through the canon. It is a very good +river with some riffles that can be waded down to the edges of black +pools or white chutes of water; with appropriate big trees fallen +slantwise into it to form deep holes; and with hurrying smooth +stretches of some breadth. In all of these various places are rainbow +trout. + +There is no use fishing until late afternoon. The clear sun of the +high altitudes searches out mercilessly the bottom of the stream, +throwing its miniature boulders, mountains, and valleys as plainly into +relief as the buttes of Arizona at noon. Then the trout quite refuse. +Here and there, if you walk far enough and climb hard enough over all +sorts of obstructions, you may discover a few spots shaded by big trees +or rocks where you can pick up a half dozen fish; but it is slow work. +When, however, the shadow of the two huge mountains feels its way +across the stream, then, as though a signal had been given, the trout +begin to rise. For an hour and a half there is noble sport indeed. + +The stream fairly swarmed with them, but of course some places were +better than others. Near the upper reaches the water boiled like +seltzer around the base of a tremendous tree. There the pool was at +least ten feet deep and shot with bubbles throughout the whole of its +depth, but it was full of fish. They rose eagerly to your gyrating +fly,--and took it away with them down to subaqueous chambers and +passages among the roots of that tree. After which you broke your +leader. Royal Coachman was the best lure, and therefore valuable +exceedingly were Royal Coachmen. Whenever we lost one we lifted up our +voices in lament, and went away from there, calling to mind that there +were other pools, many other pools, free of obstruction and with fish +in them. Yet such is the perversity of fishermen, we were back losing +more Royal Coachmen the very next day. In all I managed to disengage +just three rather small trout from that pool, and in return decorated +their ancestral halls with festoons of leaders and the brilliance of +many flies. + +Now this was foolishness. All you had to do was to walk through a +grove of cottonwoods, over a brook, through another grove of pines, +down a sloping meadow to where one of the gigantic pine-trees had +obligingly spanned the current. You crossed that, traversed another +meadow, broke through a thicket, slid down a steep grassy bank, and +there you were. A great many years before a pine-tree had fallen +across the current. Now its whitened skeleton lay there, opposing a +barrier for about twenty-five feet out into the stream. Most of the +water turned aside, of course, and boiled frantically around the end as +though trying to catch up with the rest of the stream which had gone on +without it, but some of it dived down under and came up on the other +side. There, as though bewildered, it paused in an uneasy pool. Its +constant action had excavated a very deep hole, the debris of which had +formed a bar immediately below. You waded out on the bar and cast +along the length of the pine skeleton over the pool. + +If you were methodical, you first shortened your line, and began near +the bank, gradually working out until you were casting forty-five feet +to the very edge of the fast current. I know of nothing pleasanter for +you to do. You see, the evening shadow was across the river, and a +beautiful grass slope at your back. Over the way was a grove of trees +whose birds were very busy because it was near their sunset, while +towering over them were mountains, quite peaceful by way of contrast +because THEIR sunset was still far distant. The river was in a great +hurry, and was talking to itself like a man who has been detained and +is now at last making up time to his important engagement. And from +the deep black shadow beneath the pine skeleton, occasionally flashed +white bodies that made concentric circles where they broke the surface +of the water, and which fought you to a finish in the glory of battle. +The casting was against the current, so your flies could rest but the +briefest possible moment on the surface of the stream. That moment was +enough. Day after day you could catch your required number from an +apparently inexhaustible supply. + +I might inform you further of the gorge downstream, where you lie flat +on your stomach ten feet above the river, and with one hand cautiously +extended over the edge cast accurately into the angle of the cliff. +Then when you get your strike, you tow him downstream, clamber +precariously to the water's level--still playing your fish--and there +land him,--if he has accommodatingly stayed hooked. A three-pound fish +will make you a lot of tribulation at this game. + +We lived on fish and venison, and had all we wanted. The bear-trails +were plenty enough, and the signs were comparatively fresh, but at the +time of our visit the animals themselves had gone over the mountains on +some sort of a picnic. Grouse, too, were numerous in the popple +thickets, and flushed much like our ruffed grouse of the East. They +afforded first-rate wing-shooting for Sure-Pop, the little shot-gun. + +But these things occupied, after all, only a small part of every day. +We had loads of time left. Of course we explored the valley up and +down. That occupied two days. After that we became lazy. One always +does in a permanent camp. So did the horses. Active--or rather +restless interest in life seemed to die away. Neither we nor they had +to rustle hard for food. They became fastidious in their choice, and +at all times of day could be seen sauntering in Indian file from one +part of the meadow to the other for the sole purpose apparently of +cropping a half dozen indifferent mouthfuls. The rest of the time they +roosted under trees, one hind leg relaxed, their eyes half closed, +their ears wabbling, the pictures of imbecile content. We were very +much the same. + +Of course we had our outbursts of virtue. While under their influence +we undertook vast works. But after their influence had died out, we +found ourselves with said vast works on our hands, and so came to +cursing ourselves and our fool spasms of industry. + +For instance, Wes and I decided to make buckskin from the hide of the +latest deer. We did not need the buckskin--we already had two in the +pack. Our ordinary procedure would have been to dry the hide for +future treatment by a Mexican, at a dollar a hide, when we should have +returned home. But, as I said, we were afflicted by sporadic activity, +and wanted to do something. + +We began with great ingenuity by constructing a graining-tool out of a +table-knife. We bound it with rawhide, and encased it with wood, and +wrapped it with cloth, and filed its edge square across, as is proper. +After this we hunted out a very smooth, barkless log, laid the hide +across it, straddled it, and began graining. + +Graining is a delightful process. You grasp the tool by either end, +hold the square edge at a certain angle, and push away from you +mightily. A half-dozen pushes will remove a little patch of hair; +twice as many more will scrape away half as much of the seal-brown +grain, exposing the white of the hide. Then, if you want to, you can +stop and establish in your mind a definite proportion between the +amount thus exposed, the area remaining unexposed, and the muscular +fatigue of these dozen and a half of mighty pushes. The proportion +will be wrong. You have left out of account the fact that you are +going to get almighty sick of the job; that your arms and upper back +are going to ache shrewdly before you are done; and that as you go on +it is going to be increasingly difficult to hold down the edges firmly +enough to offer the required resistance to your knife. Besides--if you +get careless--you'll scrape too hard: hence little holes in the +completed buckskin. Also--if you get careless--you will probably leave +the finest, tiniest shreds of grain, and each of them means a hard +transparent spot in the product. Furthermore, once having started in on +the job, you are like the little boy who caught the trolley: you cannot +let go. It must be finished immediately, all at one heat, before the +hide stiffens. + +Be it understood, your first enthusiasm has evaporated, and you are +thinking of fifty pleasant things you might just as well be doing. + +Next you revel in grease,--lard oil, if you have it; if not, then lard, +or the product of boiled brains. This you must rub into the skin. You +rub it in until you suspect that your finger-nails have worn away, and +you glisten to the elbows like an Eskimo cutting blubber. + +By the merciful arrangement of those who invented buckskin, this +entitles you to a rest. You take it--for several days--until your +conscience seizes you by the scruff of the neck. + +Then you transport gingerly that slippery, clammy, soggy, snaky, cold +bundle of greasy horror to the bank of the creek, and there for endless +hours you wash it. The grease is more reluctant to enter the stream +than you are in the early morning. Your hands turn purple. The others +go by on their way to the trout-pools, but you are chained to the stake. + +By and by you straighten your back with creaks, and walk home like a +stiff old man, carrying your hide rid of all superfluous oil. Then if +you are just learning how, your instructor examines the result. + +"That's all right," says he cheerfully. "Now when it dries, it will be +buckskin." + +That encourages you. It need not. For during the process of drying it +must be your pastime constantly to pull and stretch at every square +inch of that boundless skin in order to loosen all the fibres. +Otherwise it would dry as stiff as whalebone. Now there is nothing on +earth that seems to dry slower than buckskin. You wear your fingers +down to the first joints, and, wishing to preserve the remainder for +future use, you carry the hide to your instructor. + +"Just beginning to dry nicely," says he. + +You go back and do it some more, putting the entire strength of your +body, soul, and religious convictions into the stretching of that +buckskin. It looks as white as paper; and feels as soft and warm as +the turf on a southern slope. Nevertheless your tyrant declares it +will not do. + +"It looks dry, and it feels dry," says he, "but it isn't dry. Go to +it!" + +But at this point your outraged soul arches its back and bucks. You +sneak off and roll up that piece of buckskin, and thrust it into the +alforja. You KNOW it is dry. Then with a deep sigh of relief you come +out of prison into the clear, sane, lazy atmosphere of the camp. + +"Do you mean to tell me that there is any one chump enough to do that +for a dollar a hide?" you inquire. + +"Sure," say they. + +"Well, the Fool Killer is certainly behind on his dates," you conclude. + +About a week later one of your companions drags out of the alforja +something crumpled that resembles in general appearance and texture a +rusted five-gallon coal-oil can that has been in a wreck. It is only +imperceptibly less stiff and angular and cast-iron than rawhide. + +"What is this?" the discoverer inquires. + +Then quietly you go out and sit on a high place before recognition +brings inevitable--and sickening--chaff. For you know it at a glance. +It is your buckskin. + +Along about the middle of that century an old prospector with four +burros descended the Basin Trail and went into camp just below us. +Towards evening he sauntered in. + +I sincerely wish I could sketch this man for you just as he came down +through the fire-lit trees. He was about six feet tall, very leanly +built, with a weather-beaten face of mahogany on which was superimposed +a sweeping mustache and beetling eye-brows. These had originally been +brown, but the sun had bleached them almost white in remarkable +contrast to his complexion. Eyes keen as sunlight twinkled far down +beneath the shadows of the brows and a floppy old sombrero hat. The +usual flannel shirt, waistcoat, mountain-boots, and six-shooter +completed the outfit. He might have been forty, but was probably +nearer sixty years of age. + +"Howdy, boys," said he, and dropped to the fireside, where he promptly +annexed a coal for his pipe. + +We all greeted him, but gradually the talk fell to him and Wes. It was +commonplace talk enough from one point of view: taken in essence it was +merely like the inquiry and answer of the civilized man as to another's +itinerary--"Did you visit Florence? Berlin? St. Petersburg?"--and then +the comparing of impressions. Only here again that old familiar magic +of unfamiliar names threw its glamour over the terse sentences. + +"Over beyond the Piute Monument," the old prospector explained, "down +through the Inyo Range, a leetle north of Death Valley--" + +"Back in seventy-eight when I was up in Bay Horse Canon over by Lost +River--" + +"Was you ever over in th' Panamit Mountains?--North of th' Telescope +Range?--" + +That was all there was to it, with long pauses for drawing at the +pipes. Yet somehow in the aggregate that catalogue of names gradually +established in the minds of us two who listened an impression of long +years, of wide wilderness, of wandering far over the face of the earth. +The old man had wintered here, summered a thousand miles away, made his +strike at one end of the world, lost it somehow, and cheerfully tried +for a repetition of his luck at the other. I do not believe the +possibility of wealth, though always of course in the background, was +ever near enough his hope to be considered a motive for action. Rather +was it a dream, remote, something to be gained to-morrow, but never +to-day, like the mediaeval Christian's idea of heaven. His interest +was in the search. For that one could see in him a real enthusiasm. +He had his smattering of theory, his very real empirical knowledge, and +his superstitions, like all prospectors. So long as he could keep in +grub, own a little train of burros, and lead the life he loved, he was +happy. + +Perhaps one of the chief elements of this remarkable interest in the +game rather than the prizes of it was his desire to vindicate his +guesses or his conclusions. He liked to predict to himself the outcome +of his solitary operations, and then to prove that prediction through +laborious days. His life was a gigantic game of solitaire. In fact, +he mentioned a dozen of his claims many years apart which he had +developed to a certain point,--"so I could see what they was,"--and +then abandoned in favor of fresher discoveries. He cherished the +illusion that these were properties to whose completion some day he +would return. But we knew better; he had carried them to the point +where the result was no longer in doubt and then, like one who has no +interest in playing on in an evidently prescribed order, had laid his +cards on the table to begin a new game. + +This man was skilled in his profession; he had pursued it for thirty +odd years; he was frugal and industrious; undoubtedly of his long +series of discoveries a fair percentage were valuable and are +producing-properties to-day. Yet he confessed his bank balance to be +less than five hundred dollars. Why was this? Simply and solely +because he did not care. At heart it was entirely immaterial to him +whether he ever owned a dollar above his expenses. When he sold his +claims, he let them go easily, loath to bother himself with business +details, eager to get away from the fuss and nuisance. The few hundred +dollars he received he probably sunk in unproductive mining work, or +was fleeced out of in the towns. Then joyfully he turned back to his +beloved mountains and the life of his slow deep delight and his pecking +away before the open doors of fortune. By and by he would build +himself a little cabin down in the lower pine mountains, where he would +grow a white beard, putter with occult wilderness crafts, and smoke +long contemplative hours in the sun before his door. For tourists he +would braid rawhide reins and quirts, or make buckskin. The jays and +woodpeckers and Douglas squirrels would become fond of him. So he +would be gathered to his fathers, a gentle old man whose life had been +spent harmlessly in the open. He had had his ideal to which blindly he +reached; he had in his indirect way contributed the fruits of his labor +to mankind; his recompenses he had chosen according to his desires. +When you consider these things, you perforce have to revise your first +notion of him as a useless sort of old ruffian. As you come to know +him better, you must love him for the kindliness, the simple honesty, +the modesty, and charity that he seems to draw from his mountain +environment. There are hundreds of him buried in the great canons of +the West. + +Our prospector was a little uncertain as to his plans. Along toward +autumn he intended to land at some reputed placers near Dinkey Creek. +There might be something in that district. He thought he would take a +look. In the mean time he was just poking up through the country--he +and his jackasses. Good way to spend the summer. Perhaps he might run +across something 'most anywhere; up near the top of that mountain +opposite looked mineralized. Didn't know but what he'd take a look at +her to-morrow. + +He camped near us during three days. I never saw a more modest, +self-effacing man. He seemed genuinely, childishly, almost helplessly +interested in our fly-fishing, shooting, our bear-skins, and our +travels. You would have thought from his demeanor--which was sincere +and not in the least ironical--that he had never seen or heard anything +quite like that before, and was struck with wonder at it. Yet he had +cast flies before we were born, and shot even earlier than he had cast +a fly, and was a very Ishmael for travel. Rarely could you get an +account of his own experiences, and then only in illustration of +something else. + +"If you-all likes bear-hunting," said he, "you ought to get up in +eastern Oregon. I summered there once. The only trouble is, the brush +is thick as hair. You 'most always have to bait them, or wait for them +to come and drink. The brush is so small you ain't got much chance. I +run onto a she-bear and cubs that way once. Didn't have nothin' but my +six-shooter, and I met her within six foot." + +He stopped with an air of finality. + +"Well, what did you do?" we asked. + +"Me?" he inquired, surprised. "Oh, I just leaked out of th' landscape." + +He prospected the mountain opposite, loafed with us a little, and then +decided that he must be going. About eight o'clock in the morning he +passed us, hazing his burros, his tall, lean figure elastic in defiance +of years. + +"So long, boys," he called; "good luck!" + +"So long," we responded heartily. "Be good to yourself." + +He plunged into the river without hesitation, emerged dripping on the +other side, and disappeared in the brush. From time to time during the +rest of the morning we heard the intermittent tinkling of his +bell-animal rising higher and higher above us on the trail. + +In the person of this man we gained our first connection, so to speak, +with the Golden Trout. He had caught some of them, and could tell us +of their habits. + +Few fishermen west of the Rockies have not heard of the Golden Trout, +though, equally, few have much definite information concerning it. +Such information usually runs about as follows: + +It is a medium size fish of the true trout family, resembling a rainbow +except that it is of a rich golden color. The peculiarity that makes +its capture a dream to be dreamed of is that it swims in but one little +stream of all the round globe. If you would catch a Golden Trout, you +must climb up under the very base of the end of the High Sierras. +There is born a stream that flows down from an elevation of about ten +thousand feet to about eight thousand before it takes a long plunge +into a branch of the Kern River. Over the twenty miles of its course +you can cast your fly for Golden Trout; but what is the nature of that +stream, that fish, or the method of its capture, few can tell you with +any pretense of accuracy. + +To be sure, there are legends. One, particularly striking, claims that +the Golden Trout occurs in one other stream--situated in Central +Asia!--and that the fish is therefore a remnant of some pre-glacial +period, like Sequoia trees, a sort of grand-daddy of all trout, as it +were. This is but a sample of what you will hear discussed. + +Of course from the very start we had had our eye on the Golden Trout, +and intended sooner or later to work our way to his habitat. Our +prospector had just come from there. + +"It's about four weeks south, the way you and me travels," said he. +"You don't want to try Harrison's Pass; it's chock full of tribulation. +Go around by way of the Giant Forest. She's pretty good there, too, +some sizable timber. Then over by Redwood Meadows, and Timber Gap, by +Mineral King, and over through Farewell Gap. You turn east there, on a +new trail. She's steeper than straight-up-an'-down, but shorter than +the other. When you get down in the canon of Kern River,--say, she's a +fine canon, too,--you want to go downstream about two mile to where +there's a sort of natural overflowed lake full of stubs stickin' up. +You'll get some awful big rainbows in there. Then your best way is to +go right up Whitney Creek Trail to a big high meadows mighty nigh to +timber-line. That's where I camped. They's lots of them little yaller +fish there. Oh, they bite well enough. You'll catch 'em. They's a +little shy." + +So in that guise--as the desire for new and distant things--did our +angel with the flaming sword finally come to us. + +We caught reluctant horses reluctantly. All the first day was to be a +climb. We knew it; and I suspect that they knew it too. Then we +packed and addressed ourselves to the task offered us by the Basin +Trail. + + + +XIV + +ON CAMP COOKERY + +One morning I awoke a little before the others, and lay on my back +staring up through the trees. It was not my day to cook. We were +camped at the time only about sixty-five hundred feet high, and the +weather was warm. Every sort of green thing grew very lush all about +us, but our own little space was held dry and clear for us by the +needles of two enormous red cedars some four feet in diameter. A +variety of thoughts sifted through my mind as it followed lazily the +shimmering filaments of loose spider-web streaming through space. The +last thought stuck. It was that that day was a holiday. Therefore I +unlimbered my six-shooter, and turned her loose, each shot being +accompanied by a meritorious yell. + +The outfit boiled out of its blankets. I explained the situation, and +after they had had some breakfast they agreed with me that a +celebration was in order. Unanimously we decided to make it gastronomic. + +"We will ride till we get to good feed," we concluded, "and then we'll +cook all the afternoon. And nobody must eat anything until the whole +business is prepared and served." + +It was agreed. We rode until we were very hungry, which was eleven +o'clock. Then we rode some more. By and by we came to a log cabin in +a wide fair lawn below a high mountain with a ducal coronet on its top, +and around that cabin was a fence, and inside the fence a man chopping +wood. Him we hailed. He came to the fence and grinned at us from the +elevation of high-heeled boots. By this token we knew him for a +cow-puncher. + +"How are you?" said we. + +"Howdy, boys," he roared. Roared is the accurate expression. He was +not a large man, and his hair was sandy, and his eye mild blue. But +undoubtedly his kinsmen were dumb and he had as birthright the voice +for the entire family. It had been subsequently developed in the +shouting after the wild cattle of the hills. Now his ordinary +conversational tone was that of the announcer at a circus. But his +heart was good. + +"Can we camp here?" we inquired. + +"Sure thing," he bellowed. "Turn your horses into the meadow. Camp +right here." + +But with the vision of a rounded wooded knoll a few hundred yards +distant we said we'd just get out of his way a little. We crossed a +creek, mounted an easy slope to the top of the knoll, and were +delighted to observe just below its summit the peculiar fresh green +hump which indicates a spring. The Tenderfoot, however, knew nothing +of springs, for shortly he trudged a weary way back to the creek, and +so returned bearing kettles of water. This performance hugely +astonished the cowboy, who subsequently wanted to know if a "critter +had died in the spring." + +Wes departed to borrow a big Dutch oven of the man and to invite him to +come across when we raised the long yell. Then we began operations. + +Now camp cooks are of two sorts. Anybody can with a little practice +fry bacon, steak, or flapjacks, and boil coffee. The reduction of the +raw material to its most obvious cooked result is within the reach of +all but the most hopeless tenderfoot who never knows the salt-sack from +the sugar-sack. But your true artist at the business is he who can +from six ingredients, by permutation, combination, and the genius that +is in him turn out a full score of dishes. For simple example: GIVEN, +rice, oatmeal, and raisins. Your expert accomplishes the following: + +ITEM--Boiled rice. + +ITEM--Boiled oatmeal. + +ITEM--Rice boiled until soft, then stiffened by the addition of quarter +as much oatmeal. + +ITEM--Oatmeal in which is boiled almost to the dissolving point a third +as much rice. + +These latter two dishes taste entirely unlike each other or their +separate ingredients. They are moreover great in nutrition. + +ITEM--Boiled rice and raisins. + +ITEM--Dish number three with raisins. + +ITEM--Rice boiled with raisins, sugar sprinkled on top, and then baked. + +ITEM--Ditto with dish number three. + +All these are good--and different. + +Some people like to cook and have a natural knack for it. Others hate +it. If you are one of the former, select a propitious moment to +suggest that you will cook, if the rest will wash the dishes and supply +the wood and water. Thus you will get first crack at the fire in the +chill of morning; and at night you can squat on your heels doing light +labor while the others rustle. + +In a mountain trip small stout bags for the provisions are necessary. +They should be big enough to contain, say, five pounds of corn-meal, +and should tie firmly at the top. It will be absolutely labor lost for +you to mark them on the outside, as the outside soon will become +uniform in color with your marking. Tags might do, if occasionally +renewed. But if you have the instinct, you will soon come to recognize +the appearance of the different bags as you recognize the features of +your family. They should contain small quantities for immediate use of +the provisions the main stock of which is carried on another +pack-animal. One tin plate apiece and "one to grow on"; the same of tin +cups; half a dozen spoons; four knives and forks; a big spoon; two +frying-pans; a broiler; a coffee-pot; a Dutch oven; and three light +sheet-iron pails to nest in one another was what we carried on this +trip. You see, we had horses. Of course in the woods that outfit +would be materially reduced. + +For the same reason, since we had our carrying done for us, we took +along two flat iron bars about twenty-four inches in length. These, +laid across two stones between which the fire had been built, we used +to support our cooking-utensils stove-wise. I should never carry a +stove. This arrangement is quite as effective, and possesses the added +advantage that wood does not have to be cut for it of any definite +length. Again, in the woods these iron bars would be a senseless +burden. But early you will learn that while it is foolish to carry a +single ounce more than will pay in comfort or convenience for its own +transportation, it is equally foolish to refuse the comforts or +conveniences that modified circumstance will permit you. To carry only +a forest equipment with pack-animals would be as silly as to carry only +a pack-animal outfit on a Pullman car. Only look out that you do not +reverse it. + +Even if you do not intend to wash dishes, bring along some "Gold Dust." +It is much simpler in getting at odd corners of obstinate kettles than +any soap. All you have to do is to boil some of it in that kettle, and +the utensil is tamed at once. + +That's about all you, as expert cook, are going to need in the way of +equipment. Now as to your fire. + +There are a number of ways of building a cooking fire, but they share +one first requisite: it should be small. A blaze will burn everything, +including your hands and your temper. Two logs laid side by side and +slanted towards each other so that small things can go on the narrow +end and big things on the wide end; flat rocks arranged in the same +manner; a narrow trench in which the fire is built; and the flat irons +just described--these are the best-known methods. Use dry wood. +Arrange to do your boiling first--in the flame; and your frying and +broiling last--after the flames have died to coals. + +So much in general. You must remember that open-air cooking is in many +things quite different from indoor cooking. You have different +utensils, are exposed to varying temperatures, are limited in +resources, and pursued by a necessity of haste. Preconceived notions +must go by the board. You are after results; and if you get them, do +not mind the feminines of your household lifting the hands of horror +over the unorthodox means. Mighty few women I have ever seen were good +camp-fire cooks; not because camp-fire cookery is especially difficult, +but because they are temperamentally incapable of ridding themselves of +the notion that certain things should be done in a certain way, and +because if an ingredient lacks, they cannot bring themselves to +substitute an approximation. They would rather abandon the dish than +do violence to the sacred art. + +Most camp-cookery advice is quite useless for the same reason. I have +seen many a recipe begin with the words: "Take the yolks of four eggs, +half a cup of butter, and a cup of fresh milk--" As if any one really +camping in the wilderness ever had eggs, butter, and milk! + +Now here is something I cooked for this particular celebration. Every +woman to whom I have ever described it has informed me vehemently that +it is not cake, and must be "horrid." Perhaps it is not cake, but it +looks yellow and light, and tastes like cake. + +First I took two cups of flour, and a half cup of corn-meal to make it +look yellow. In this I mixed a lot of baking-powder,--about twice what +one should use for bread,--and topped off with a cup of sugar. The +whole I mixed with water into a light dough. Into the dough went +raisins that had previously been boiled to swell them up. Thus was the +cake mixed. Now I poured half the dough into the Dutch oven, sprinkled +it with a good layer of sugar, cinnamon, and unboiled raisins; poured +in the rest of the dough; repeated the layer of sugar, cinnamon, and +raisins; and baked in the Dutch oven. It was gorgeous, and we ate it +at one fell swoop. + +While we are about it, we may as well work backwards on this particular +orgy by describing the rest of our dessert. In addition to the cake +and some stewed apricots, I, as cook of the day, constructed also a +pudding. + +The basis was flour--two cups of it. Into this I dumped a handful of +raisins, a tablespoonful of baking-powder, two of sugar, and about a +pound of fat salt pork cut into little cubes. This I mixed up into a +mess by means of a cup or so of water and a quantity of +larrupy-dope.[1] Then I dipped a flour-sack in hot water, wrung it +out, sprinkled it with dry flour, and half filled it with my pudding +mixture. The whole outfit I boiled for two hours in a kettle. It, +too, was good to the palate, and was even better sliced and fried the +following morning. + +This brings us to the suspension of kettles. There are two ways. If +you are in a hurry, cut a springy pole, sharpen one end, and stick it +perpendicular in the ground. Bend it down towards your fire. Hang +your kettle on the end of it. If you have jabbed it far enough into +the ground in the first place, it will balance nicely by its own spring +and the elasticity of the turf. The other method is to plant two +forked sticks on either side your fire over which a strong cross-piece +is laid. The kettles are hung on hooks cut from forked branches. The +forked branches are attached to the cross-piece by means of thongs or +withes. + +On this occasion we had deer, grouse, and ducks in the larder. The +best way to treat them is as follows. You may be sure we adopted the +best way. + +When your deer is fresh, you will enjoy greatly a dish of liver and +bacon. Only the liver you will discover to be a great deal tenderer +and more delicate than any calf's liver you ever ate. There is this +difference: a deer's liver should be parboiled in order to get rid of a +green bitter scum that will rise to the surface and which you must skim +off. + +Next in order is the "back strap" and tenderloin, which is always +tender, even when fresh. The hams should be kept at least five days. +Deer-steak, to my notion, is best broiled, though occasionally it is +pleasant by way of variety to fry it. In that case a brown gravy is +made by thoroughly heating flour in the grease, and then stirring in +water. Deer-steak threaded on switches and "barbecued" over the coals +is delicious. The outside will be a little blackened, but all the +juices will be retained. To enjoy this to the utmost you should take +it in your fingers and GNAW. The only permissible implement is your +hunting-knife. Do not forget to peel and char slightly the switches on +which you thread the meat, otherwise they will impart their fresh-wood +taste. + +By this time the ribs are in condition. Cut little slits between them, +and through the slits thread in and out long strips of bacon. Cut +other little gashes, and fill these gashes with onions chopped very +fine. Suspend the ribs across two stones between which you have allowed +a fire to die down to coals. + +There remain now the hams, shoulders, and heart. The two former furnish +steaks. The latter you will make into a "bouillon." Here inserts +itself quite naturally the philosophy of boiling meat. It may be +stated in a paragraph. + +If you want boiled meat, put it in hot water. That sets the juices. +If you want soup, put it in cold water and bring to a boil. That sets +free the juices. Remember this. + +Now you start your bouillon cold. Into a kettle of water put your deer +hearts, or your fish, a chunk of pork, and some salt. Bring to a boil. +Next drop in quartered potatoes, several small whole onions, a half +cupful of rice, a can of tomatoes--if you have any. Boil slowly for an +hour or so--until things pierce easily under the fork. Add several +chunks of bread and a little flour for thickening. Boil down to about +a chowder consistency, and serve hot. It is all you will need for that +meal; and you will eat of it until there is no more. + +I am supposing throughout that you know enough to use salt and pepper +when needed. + +So much for your deer. The grouse you can split and fry, in which case +the brown gravy described for the fried deer-steak is just the thing. +Or you can boil him. If you do that, put him into hot water, boil +slowly, skim frequently, and add dumplings mixed of flour, +baking-powder, and a little lard. Or you can roast him in your Dutch +oven with your ducks. + +Perhaps it might be well here to explain the Dutch oven. It is a heavy +iron kettle with little legs and an iron cover. The theory of it is +that coals go among the little legs and on top of the iron cover. This +heats the inside, and so cooking results. That, you will observe, is +the theory. + +In practice you will have to remember a good many things. In the first +place, while other affairs are preparing, lay the cover on the fire to +heat it through; but not on too hot a place nor too long, lest it warp +and so fit loosely. Also the oven itself is to be heated through, and +well greased. Your first baking will undoubtedly be burned on the +bottom. It is almost impossible without many trials to understand just +how little heat suffices underneath. Sometimes it seems that the +warmed earth where the fire has been is enough. And on top you do not +want a bonfire. A nice even heat, and patience, are the proper +ingredients. Nor drop into the error of letting your bread chill, and +so fall to unpalatable heaviness. Probably for some time you will +alternate between the extremes of heavy crusts with doughy insides, and +white weighty boiler-plate with no distinguishable crusts at all. +Above all, do not lift the lid too often for the sake of taking a look. +Have faith. + +There are other ways of baking bread. In the North Country forests, +where you carry everything on your back, you will do it in the +frying-pan. The mixture should be a rather thick batter or a rather +thin dough. It is turned into the frying-pan and baked first on one +side, then on the other, the pan being propped on edge facing the fire. +The whole secret of success is first to set your pan horizontal and +about three feet from the fire in order that the mixture may be +thoroughly warmed--not heated--before the pan is propped on edge. +Still another way of baking is in a reflector oven of tin. This is +highly satisfactory, provided the oven is built on the scientific +angles to throw the heat evenly on all parts of the bread-pan and +equally on top and bottom. It is not so easy as you might imagine to +get a good one made. These reflectors are all right for a permanent +camp, but too fragile for transportation on pack-animals. + +As for bread, try it unleavened once in a while by way of change. It +is really very good,--just salt, water, flour, and a very little sugar. +For those who like their bread "all crust," it is especially toothsome. +The usual camp bread that I have found the most successful has been in +the proportion of two cups of flour to a teaspoonful of salt, one of +sugar, and three of baking-powder. Sugar or cinnamon sprinkled on top +is sometimes pleasant. Test by thrusting a splinter into the loaf. If +dough adheres to the wood, the bread is not done. Biscuits are made by +using twice as much baking-powder and about two tablespoonfuls of lard +for shortening. They bake much more quickly than the bread. +Johnny-cake you mix of corn-meal three cups, flour one cup, sugar four +spoonfuls, salt one spoonful, baking-powder four spoonfuls, and lard +twice as much as for biscuits. It also is good, very good. + +The flapjack is first cousin to bread, very palatable, and extremely +indigestible when made of flour, as is ordinarily done. However, the +self-raising buckwheat flour makes an excellent flapjack, which is +likewise good for your insides. The batter is rather thin, is poured +into the piping hot greased pan, "flipped" when brown on one side, and +eaten with larrupy-dope or brown gravy. + +When you come to consider potatoes and beans and onions and such +matters, remember one thing: that in the higher altitudes water boils +at a low temperature, and that therefore you must not expect your +boiled food to cook very rapidly. In fact, you'd better leave beans at +home. We did. Potatoes you can sometimes tease along by quartering +them. + +Rolled oats are better than oatmeal. Put them in plenty of water and +boil down to the desired consistency. In lack of cream you will +probably want it rather soft. + +Put your coffee into cold water, bring to a boil, let boil for about +two minutes, and immediately set off. Settle by letting a half cup of +cold water flow slowly into the pot from the height of a foot or so. +If your utensils are clean, you will surely have good coffee by this +simple method. Of course you will never boil your tea. + +The sun was nearly down when we raised our long yell. The cow-puncher +promptly responded. We ate. Then we smoked. Then we basely left all +our dishes until the morrow, and followed our cow-puncher to his log +cabin, where we were to spend the evening. + +By now it was dark, and a bitter cold swooped down from the mountains. +We built a fire in a huge stone fireplace and sat around in the +flickering light telling ghost-stories to one another. The place was +rudely furnished, with only a hard earthen floor, and chairs hewn by +the axe. Rifles, spurs, bits, revolvers, branding-irons in turn caught +the light and vanished in the shadow. The skin of a bear looked at us +from hollow eye-sockets in which there were no eyes. We talked of the +Long Trail. Outside the wind, rising, howled through the shakes of the +roof. + + +[1] Camp-lingo for any kind of syrup. + + + +XV + +ON THE WIND AT NIGHT + +The winds were indeed abroad that night. They rattled our cabin, they +shrieked in our eaves, they puffed down our chimney, scattering the +ashes and leaving in the room a balloon of smoke as though a shell had +burst. When we opened the door and stepped out, after our good-nights +had been said, it caught at our hats and garments as though it had been +lying in wait for us. + +To our eyes, fire-dazzled, the night seemed very dark. There would be +a moon later, but at present even the stars seemed only so many +pinpoints of dull metal, lustreless, without illumination. We felt our +way to camp, conscious of the softness of grasses, the uncertainty of +stones. + +At camp the remains of the fire crouched beneath the rating of the +storm. Its embers glowed sullen and red, alternately glaring with a +half-formed resolution to rebel, and dying to a sulky resignation. +Once a feeble flame sprang up for an instant, but was immediately +pounced on and beaten flat as though by a vigilant antagonist. + +We, stumbling, gathered again our tumbled blankets. Across the brow of +the knoll lay a huge pine trunk. In its shelter we respread our +bedding, and there, standing, dressed for the night. The power of the +wind tugged at our loose garments, hoping for spoil. A towel, shaken +by accident from the interior of a sweater, departed white-winged, like +a bird, into the outer blackness. We found it next day caught in the +bushes several hundred yards distant. Our voices as we shouted were +snatched from our lips and hurled lavishly into space. The very breath +of our bodies seemed driven back, so that as we faced the elements, we +breathed in gasps, with difficulty. + +Then we dropped down into our blankets. + +At once the prostrate tree-trunk gave us its protection. We lay in a +little back-wash of the racing winds, still as a night in June. Over +us roared the battle. We felt like sharpshooters in the trenches; as +though, were we to raise our heads, at that instant we should enter a +zone of danger. So we lay quietly on our backs and stared at the +heavens. + +The first impression thence given was of stars sailing serene and +unaffected, remote from the turbulence of what until this instant had +seemed to fill the universe. They were as always, just as we should +see them when the evening was warm and the tree-toads chirped clearly +audible at half a mile. The importance of the tempest shrank. Then +below them next we noticed the mountains; they too were serene and calm. + +Immediately it was as though the storm were an hallucination; something +not objective; something real, but within the soul of him who looked +upon it. It claimed sudden kinship with those blackest days when +nevertheless the sun, the mere external unimportant sun, shines with +superlative brilliancy. Emotions of a power to shake the foundations +of life seemed vaguely to stir in answer to these their hollow symbols. +For after all, we were contented at heart and tranquil in mind, and +this was but the outer gorgeous show of an intense emotional experience +we did not at the moment prove. Our nerves responded to it +automatically. We became excited, keyed to a high tension, and so lay +rigid on our backs, as though fighting out the battles of our souls. + +It was all so unreal and yet so plain to our senses that perforce +automatically our experience had to conclude it psychical. We were in +air absolutely still. Yet above us the trees writhed and twisted and +turned and bent and struck back, evidently in the power of a mighty +force. Across the calm heavens the murk of flying atmosphere--I have +always maintained that if you looked closely enough you could SEE the +wind--the dim, hardly-made-out, fine debris fleeing high in the +air;--these faintly hinted at intense movement rushing down through +space. A roar of sound filled the hollow of the sky. Occasionally it +intermitted, falling abruptly in volume like the mysterious rare +hushings of a rapid stream. Then the familiar noises of a summer night +became audible for the briefest instant,--a horse sneezed, an owl +hooted, the wild call of birds came down the wind. And with a howl the +legions of good and evil took up their warring. It was too real, and +yet it was not reconcilable with the calm of our resting-places. + +For hours we lay thus in all the intensity of an inner storm and +stress, which it seemed could not fail to develop us, to mould us, to +age us, to leave on us its scars, to bequeath us its peace or remorse +or despair, as would some great mysterious dark experience direct from +the sources of life. And then abruptly we were exhausted, as we should +have been by too great emotion. We fell asleep. The morning dawned +still and clear, and garnished and set in order as though such things +had never been. Only our white towel fluttered like a flag of truce in +the direction the mighty elements had departed. + + + +XVI + +THE VALLEY + +Once upon a time I happened to be staying in a hotel room which had +originally been part of a suite, but which was then cut off from the +others by only a thin door through which sounds carried clearly. It +was about eleven o'clock in the evening. The occupants of that next +room came home. I heard the door open and close. Then the bed +shrieked aloud as somebody fell heavily upon it. There breathed across +the silence a deep restful sigh. + +"Mary," said a man's voice, "I'm mighty sorry I didn't join that +Association for Artificial Vacations. They guarantee to get you just as +tired and just as mad in two days as you could by yourself in two +weeks." + +We thought of that one morning as we descended the Glacier Point Trail +in Yosemite. + +The contrast we need not have made so sharp. We might have taken the +regular wagon-road by way of Chinquapin, but we preferred to stick to +the trail, and so encountered our first sign of civilization within an +hundred yards of the brink. It, the sign, was tourists. They were +male and female, as the Lord had made them, but they had improved on +that idea since. The women were freckled, hatted with alpines, in +which edelweiss--artificial, I think--flowered in abundance; they +sported severely plain flannel shirts, bloomers of an aggressive and +unnecessary cut, and enormous square boots weighing pounds. The men +had on hats just off the sunbonnet effect, pleated Norfolk jackets, +bloomers ditto ditto to the women, stockings whose tops rolled over +innumerable times to help out the size of that which they should have +contained, and also enormous square boots. The female children they +put in skin-tight blue overalls. The male children they dressed in +bloomers. Why this should be I cannot tell you. All carried toy +hatchets with a spike on one end built to resemble the pictures of +alpenstocks. + +They looked business-like, trod with an assured air of veterans and a +seeming of experience more extended than it was possible to pack into +any one human life. We stared at them, our eyes bulging out. They +painfully and evidently concealed a curiosity as to our pack-train. We +wished them good-day, in order to see to what language heaven had +fitted their extraordinary ideas as regards raiment. They inquired the +way to something or other--I think Sentinel Dome. We had just arrived, +so we did not know, but in order to show a friendly spirit we blandly +pointed out A way. It may have led to Sentinel Dome for all I know. +They departed uttering thanks in human speech. + +Now this particular bunch of tourists was evidently staying at the +Glacier Point, and so was fresh. But in the course of that morning we +descended straight down a drop of, is it four thousand feet? The trail +was steep and long and without water. During the descent we passed +first and last probably twoscore of tourists, all on foot. A good half +of them were delicate women,--young, middle-aged, a few gray-haired and +evidently upwards of sixty. There were also old men, and fat men, and +men otherwise out of condition. Probably nine out of ten, counting in +the entire outfit, were utterly unaccustomed, when at home where grow +street-cars and hansoms, to even the mildest sort of exercise. They +had come into the Valley, whose floor is over four thousand feet up, +without the slightest physical preparation for the altitude. They had +submitted to the fatigue of a long and dusty stage journey. And then +they had merrily whooped it up at a gait which would have appalled +seasoned old stagers like ourselves. Those blessed lunatics seemed +positively unhappy unless they climbed up to some new point of view +every day. I have never seen such a universally tired out, frazzled, +vitally exhausted, white-faced, nervous community in my life as I did +during our four days' stay in the Valley. Then probably they go away, +and take a month to get over it, and have queer residual impressions of +the trip. I should like to know what those impressions really are. + +Not but that Nature has done everything in her power to oblige them. +The things I am about to say are heresy, but I hold them true. + +Yosemite is not as interesting nor as satisfying to me as some of the +other big box canons, like those of the Tehipite, the Kings in its +branches, or the Kaweah. I will admit that its waterfalls are better. +Otherwise it possesses no features which are not to be seen in its +sister valleys. And there is this difference. In Yosemite everything +is jumbled together, apparently for the benefit of the tourist with a +linen duster and but three days' time at his disposal. He can turn +from the cliff-headland to the dome, from the dome to the half dome, to +the glacier formation, the granite slide and all the rest of it, with +hardly the necessity of stirring his feet. Nature has put samples of +all her works here within reach of his cataloguing vision. Everything +is crowded in together, like a row of houses in forty-foot lots. The +mere things themselves are here in profusion and wonder, but the +appropriate spacing, the approach, the surrounding of subordinate +detail which should lead in artistic gradation to the supreme +feature--these things, which are a real and essential part of esthetic +effect, are lacking utterly for want of room. The place is not natural +scenery; it is a junk-shop, a storehouse, a sample-room wherein the +elements of natural scenery are to be viewed. It is not an arrangement +of effects in accordance with the usual laws of landscape, but an +abnormality, a freak of Nature. + +All these things are to be found elsewhere. There are cliffs which to +the naked eye are as grand as El Capitan; domes, half domes, peaks as +noble as any to be seen in the Valley; sheer drops as breath-taking as +that from Glacier Point. But in other places each of these is led up +to appropriately, and stands the central and satisfying feature to +which all other things look. Then you journey on from your cliff, or +whatever it happens to be, until, at just the right distance, so that +it gains from the presence of its neighbor without losing from its +proximity, a dome or a pinnacle takes to itself the right of +prominence. I concede the waterfalls; but in other respects I prefer +the sister valleys. + +That is not to say that one should not visit Yosemite; nor that one +will be disappointed. It is grand beyond any possible human belief; +and no one, even a nerve-frazzled tourist, can gaze on it without the +strongest emotion. Only it is not so intimately satisfying as it +should be. It is a show. You do not take it into your heart. "Whew!" +you cry. "Isn't that a wonder!" then after a moment, "Looks just like +the photographs. Up to sample. Now let's go." + +As we descended the trail, we and the tourists aroused in each other a +mutual interest. One husband was trying to encourage his young and +handsome wife to go on. She was beautifully dressed for the part in a +marvelous, becoming costume of whipcord--short skirt, high laced +elkskin boots and the rest of it; but in all her magnificence she had +sat down on the ground, her back to the cliff, her legs across the +trail, and was so tired out that she could hardly muster interest +enough to pull them in out of the way of our horses' hoofs. The man +inquired anxiously of us how far it was to the top. Now it was a long +distance to the top, but a longer to the bottom, so we lied a lie that +I am sure was immediately forgiven us, and told them it was only a +short climb. I should have offered them the use of Bullet, but Bullet +had come far enough, and this was only one of a dozen such cases. In +marked contrast was a jolly white-haired clergyman of the bishop type +who climbed vigorously and hailed us with a shout. + +The horses were decidedly unaccustomed to any such sights, and we +sometimes had our hands full getting them by on the narrow way. The +trail was safe enough, but it did have an edge, and that edge jumped +pretty straight off. It was interesting to observe how the tourists +acted. Some of them were perfect fools, and we had more trouble with +them than we did with the horses. They could not seem to get the +notion into their heads that all we wanted them to do was to get on the +inside and stand still. About half of them were terrified to death, so +that at the crucial moment, just as a horse was passing them, they had +little fluttering panics that called the beast's attention. Most of +the remainder tried to be bold and help. They reached out the hand of +assistance toward the halter rope; the astonished animal promptly +snorted, tried to turn around, cannoned against the next in line. Then +there was a mix-up. Two tall clean-cut well-bred looking girls of our +slim patrician type offered us material assistance. They seemed to +understand horses, and got out of the way in the proper manner, did +just the right thing, and made sensible suggestions. I offer them my +homage. + +They spoke to us as though they had penetrated the disguise of long +travel, and could see we were not necessarily members of Burt Alvord's +gang. This phase too of our descent became increasingly interesting to +us, a species of gauge by which we measured the perceptions of those we +encountered. Most did not speak to us at all. Others responded to our +greetings with a reserve in which was more than a tinge of distrust. +Still others patronized us. A very few overlooked our faded flannel +shirts, our soiled trousers, our floppy old hats with their rattlesnake +bands, the wear and tear of our equipment, to respond to us heartily. +Them in return we generally perceived to belong to our totem. + +We found the floor of the Valley well sprinkled with campers. They had +pitched all kinds of tents; built all kinds of fancy permanent +conveniences; erected all kinds of banners and signs advertising their +identity, and were generally having a nice, easy, healthful, jolly kind +of a time up there in the mountains. Their outfits they had either +brought in with their own wagons, or had had freighted. The store near +the bend of the Merced supplied all their needs. It was truly a +pleasant sight to see so many people enjoying themselves, for they were +mostly those in moderate circumstances to whom a trip on tourist lines +would be impossible. We saw bakers' and grocers' and butchers' wagons +that had been pressed into service. A man, his wife, and little baby +had come in an ordinary buggy, the one horse of which, led by the man, +carried the woman and baby to the various points of interest. + +We reported to the official in charge, were allotted a camping and +grazing place, and proceeded to make ourselves at home. + +During the next two days we rode comfortably here and there and looked +at things. The things could not be spoiled, but their effect was very +materially marred by the swarms of tourists. Sometimes they were +silly, and cracked inane and obvious jokes in ridicule of the grandest +objects they had come so far to see; sometimes they were detestable and +left their insignificant calling-cards or their unimportant names where +nobody could ever have any object in reading them; sometimes they were +pathetic and helpless and had to have assistance; sometimes they were +amusing; hardly ever did they seem entirely human. I wonder what there +is about the traveling public that seems so to set it apart, to make of +it at least a sub-species of mankind? + +Among other things, we were vastly interested in the guides. They were +typical of this sort of thing. Each morning one of these men took a +pleasantly awe-stricken band of tourists out, led them around in the +brush awhile, and brought them back in time for lunch. They wore broad +hats and leather bands and exotic raiment and fierce expressions, and +looked dark and mysterious and extra-competent over the most trivial of +difficulties. + +Nothing could be more instructive than to see two or three of these +imitation bad men starting out in the morning to "guide" a flock, say +to Nevada Falls. The tourists, being about to mount, have outdone +themselves in weird and awesome clothes--especially the women. Nine +out of ten wear their stirrups too short, so their knees are hunched +up. One guide rides at the head--great deal of silver spur, clanking +chain, and the rest of it. Another rides in the rear. The third rides +up and down the line, very gruff, very preoccupied, very careworn over +the dangers of the way. The cavalcade moves. It proceeds for about a +mile. There arise sudden cries, great but subdued excitement. The +leader stops, raising a commanding hand. Guide number three gallops +up. There is a consultation. The cinch-strap of the brindle shave-tail +is taken up two inches. A catastrophe has been averted. The noble +three look volumes of relief. The cavalcade moves again. + +Now the trail rises. It is a nice, safe, easy trail. But to the +tourists it is made terrible. The noble three see to that. They pass +more dangers by the exercise of superhuman skill than you or I could +discover in a summer's close search. The joke of the matter is that +those forty-odd saddle-animals have been over that trail so many times +that one would have difficulty in heading them off from it once they +got started. + +Very much the same criticism would hold as to the popular notion of the +Yosemite stage-drivers. They drive well, and seem efficient men. But +their wonderful reputation would have to be upheld on rougher roads +than those into the Valley. The tourist is, of course, encouraged to +believe that he is doing the hair-breadth escape; but in reality, as +mountain travel goes, the Yosemite stage-road is very mild. + +This that I have been saying is not by way of depreciation. But it +seems to me that the Valley is wonderful enough to stand by itself in +men's appreciation without the unreality of sickly sentimentalism in +regard to imaginary dangers, or the histrionics of playing wilderness +where no wilderness exists. + +As we went out, this time by the Chinquapin wagon-road, we met one +stage-load after another of tourists coming in. They had not yet +donned the outlandish attire they believe proper to the occasion, and +so showed for what they were,--prosperous, well-bred, well-dressed +travelers. In contrast to their smartness, the brilliancy of +new-painted stages, the dash of the horses maintained by the Yosemite +Stage Company, our own dusty travel-worn outfit of mountain ponies, our +own rough clothes patched and faded, our sheath-knives and firearms +seemed out of place and curious, as though a knight in medieval armor +were to ride down Broadway. + +I do not know how many stages there were. We turned our pack-horses +out for them all, dashing back and forth along the line, coercing the +diabolical Dinkey. The road was too smooth. There were no +obstructions to surmount; no dangers to avert; no difficulties to +avoid. We could not get into trouble, but proceeded as on a county +turnpike. Too tame, too civilized, too representative of the tourist +element, it ended by getting on our nerves. The wilderness seemed to +have left us forever. Never would we get back to our own again. After +a long time Wes, leading, turned into our old trail branching off to +the high country. Hardly had we traveled a half mile before we heard +from the advance guard a crash and a shout. + +"What is it, Wes?" we yelled. + +In a moment the reply came,-- + +"Lily's fallen down again,--thank God!" + +We understood what he meant. By this we knew that the tourist zone was +crossed, that we had left the show country, and were once more in the +open. + + + +XVII + +THE MAIN CREST + +The traveler in the High Sierras generally keeps to the west of the +main crest. Sometimes he approaches fairly to the foot of the last +slope; sometimes he angles away and away even down to what finally +seems to him a lower country,--to the pine mountains of only five or +six thousand feet. But always to the left or right of him, according +to whether he travels south or north, runs the rampart of the system, +sometimes glittering with snow, sometimes formidable and rugged with +splinters and spires of granite. He crosses spurs and tributary ranges +as high, as rugged, as snow-clad as these. They do not quite satisfy +him. Over beyond he thinks he ought to see something great,--some wide +outlook, some space bluer than his trail can offer him. One day or +another he clamps his decision, and so turns aside for the simple and +only purpose of standing on the top of the world. + +We were bitten by that idea while crossing the Granite Basin. The +latter is some ten thousand feet in the air, a cup of rock five or six +miles across, surrounded by mountains much higher than itself. That +would have been sufficient for most moods, but, resting on the edge of +a pass ten thousand six hundred feet high, we concluded that we surely +would have to look over into Nevada. + +We got out the map. It became evident, after a little study, that by +descending six thousand feet into a box canon, proceeding in it a few +miles, and promptly climbing out again, by climbing steadily up the +long narrow course of another box canon for about a day and a half's +journey, and then climbing out of that to a high ridge country with +little flat valleys, we would come to a wide lake in a meadow eleven +thousand feet up. There we could camp. The mountain opposite was +thirteen thousand three hundred and twenty feet, so the climb from the +lake became merely a matter of computation. This, we figured, would +take us just a week, which may seem a considerable time to sacrifice to +the gratification of a whim. But such a glorious whim! + +We descended the great box canon, and scaled its upper end, following +near the voices of a cascade. Cliffs thousands of feet high hemmed us +in. At the very top of them strange crags leaned out looking down on +us in the abyss. From a projection a colossal sphinx gazed solemnly +across at a dome as smooth and symmetrical as, but vastly larger than, +St. Peter's at Rome. + +The trail labored up to the brink of the cascade. At once we entered a +long narrow aisle between regular palisaded cliffs. + +The formation was exceedingly regular. At the top the precipice fell +sheer for a thousand feet or so; then the steep slant of the debris, +like buttresses, down almost to the bed of the river. The lower parts +of the buttresses were clothed with heavy chaparral, which, nearer +moisture, developed into cottonwoods, alders, tangled vines, flowers, +rank grasses. And away on the very edge of the cliffs, close under the +sky, were pines, belittled by distance, solemn and aloof, like Indian +warriors wrapped in their blankets watching from an eminence the +passage of a hostile force. + +We caught rainbow trout in the dashing white torrent of the river. We +followed the trail through delicious thickets redolent with perfume; +over the roughest granite slides, along still dark aisles of forest +groves, between the clefts of boulders so monstrous as almost to seem +an insult to the credulity. Among the chaparral, on the slope of the +buttress across the river, we made out a bear feeding. Wes and I sat +ten minutes waiting for him to show sufficiently for a chance. Then we +took a shot at about four hundred yards, and hit him somewhere so he +angled down the hill furiously. We left the Tenderfoot to watch that +he did not come out of the big thicket of the river bottom where last +we had seen him, while we scrambled upstream nearly a mile looking for +a way across. Then we trailed him by the blood, each step one of +suspense, until we fairly had to crawl in after him; and shot him five +times more, three in the head, before he gave up not six feet from us; +and shouted gloriously and skinned that bear. But the meat was badly +bloodshot, for there were three bullets in the head, two in the chest +and shoulders, one through the paunch, and one in the hind quarters. + +Since we were much in want of meat, this grieved us. But that noon +while we ate, the horses ran down toward us, and wheeled, as though in +cavalry formation, looking toward the hill and snorting. So I put down +my tin plate gently, and took up my rifle, and without rising shot that +bear through the back of the neck. We took his skin, and also his hind +quarters, and went on. + +By the third day from Granite Basin we reached the end of the long +narrow canon with the high cliffs and the dark pine-trees and the very +blue sky. Therefore we turned sharp to the left and climbed laboriously +until we had come up into the land of big boulders, strange spare +twisted little trees, and the singing of the great wind. + +The country here was mainly of granite. It out-cropped in dikes, it +slid down the slopes in aprons, it strewed the prospect in boulders and +blocks, it seamed the hollows with knife-ridges. Soil gave the +impression of having been laid on top; you divined the granite beneath +it, and not so very far beneath it, either. A fine hair-grass grew +close to this soil, as though to produce as many blades as possible in +the limited area. + +But strangest of all were the little thick twisted trees with the rich +shaded umber color of their trunks. They occurred rarely, but still in +sufficient regularity to lend the impression of a scattered +grove-cohesiveness. Their limbs were sturdy and reaching fantastically. +On each trunk the colors ran in streaks, patches, and gradations from a +sulphur yellow, through browns and red-orange, to a rich red-umber. +They were like the earth-dwarfs of German legend, come out to view the +roof of their workshop in the interior of the hill; or, more subtly, +like some of the more fantastic engravings of Gustave Dore. + +We camped that night at a lake whose banks were pebbled in the manner +of an artificial pond, and whose setting was a thin meadow of the fine +hair-grass, for the grazing of which the horses had to bare their +teeth. All about, the granite mountains rose. The timber-line, even of +the rare shrub-like gnome-trees, ceased here. Above us was nothing +whatever but granite rock, snow, and the sky. + +It was just before dusk, and in the lake the fish were jumping eagerly. +They took the fly well, and before the fire was alight we had caught +three for supper. When I say we caught but three, you will understand +that they were of good size. Firewood was scarce, but we dragged in +enough by means of Old Slob and a riata to build us a good fire. And +we needed it, for the cold descended on us with the sharpness and vigor +of eleven thousand feet. + +For such an altitude the spot was ideal. The lake just below us was +full of fish. A little stream ran from it by our very elbows. The +slight elevation was level, and covered with enough soil to offer a +fairly good substructure for our beds. The flat in which was the lake +reached on up narrower and narrower to the foot of the last slope, +furnishing for the horses an admirable natural corral about a mile +long. And the view was magnificent. + +First of all there were the mountains above us, towering grandly serene +against the sky of morning; then all about us the tumultuous slabs and +boulders and blocks of granite among which dare-devil and hardy little +trees clung to a footing as though in defiance of some great force +exerted against them; then below us a sheer drop, into which our brook +plunged, with its suggestion of depths; and finally beyond those depths +the giant peaks of the highest Sierras rising lofty as the sky, +shrouded in a calm and stately peace. + +Next day the Tenderfoot and I climbed to the top. Wes decided at the +last minute that he hadn't lost any mountains, and would prefer to fish. + +The ascent was accompanied by much breathlessness and a heavy pounding +of our hearts, so that we were forced to stop every twenty feet to +recover our physical balance. Each step upward dragged at our feet +like a leaden weight. Yet once we were on the level, or once we ceased +our very real exertions for a second or so, the difficulty left us, and +we breathed as easily as in the lower altitudes. + +The air itself was of a quality impossible to describe to you unless +you have traveled in the high countries. I know it is trite to say +that it had the exhilaration of wine, yet I can find no better simile. +We shouted and whooped and breathed deep and wanted to do things. + +The immediate surroundings of that mountain peak were absolutely barren +and absolutely still. How it was accomplished so high up I do not know, +but the entire structure on which we moved--I cannot say walked--was +composed of huge granite slabs. Sometimes these were laid side by side +like exaggerated paving flags; but oftener they were up-ended, piled in +a confusion over which we had precariously to scramble. And the +silence. It was so still that the very ringing in our ears came to a +prominence absurd and almost terrifying. The wind swept by noiseless, +because it had nothing movable to startle into noise. The solid +eternal granite lay heavy in its statics across the possibility of even +a whisper. The blue vault of heaven seemed emptied of sound. + +But the wind did stream by unceasingly, weird in the unaccustomedness +of its silence. And the sky was blue as a turquoise, and the sun +burned fiercely, and the air was cold as the water of a mountain spring. + +We stretched ourselves behind a slab of granite, and ate the luncheon +we had brought, cold venison steak and bread. By and by a marvelous +thing happened. A flash of wings sparkled in the air, a brave little +voice challenged us cheerily, a pert tiny rock-wren flirted his tail +and darted his wings and wanted to know what we were thinking of anyway +to enter his especial territory. And shortly from nowhere appeared two +Canada Jays, silent as the wind itself, hoping for a share in our meal. +Then the Tenderfoot discovered in a niche some strange, hardy alpine +flowers. So we established a connection, through these wondrous brave +children of the great mother, with the world of living things. + +After we had eaten, which was the very first thing we did, we walked to +the edge of the main crest and looked over. That edge went straight +down. I do not know how far, except that even in contemplation we +entirely lost our breaths, before we had fallen half way to the bottom. +Then intervened a ledge, and in the ledge was a round glacier lake of +the very deepest and richest ultramarine you can find among your +paint-tubes, and on the lake floated cakes of dazzling white ice. That +was enough for the moment. + +Next we leaped at one bound direct down to some brown hazy liquid shot +with the tenderest filaments of white. After analysis we discovered +the hazy brown liquid to be the earth of the plains, and the filaments +of white to be roads. Thus instructed we made out specks which were +towns. That was all. + +The rest was too insignificant to classify without the aid of a +microscope. + +And afterwards, across those plains, oh, many, many leagues, were the +Inyo and Panamit mountains, and beyond them Nevada and Arizona, and +blue mountains, and bluer, and still bluer rising, rising, rising +higher and higher until at the level of the eye they blended with the +heavens and were lost somewhere away out beyond the edge of the world. + +We said nothing, but looked for a long time. Then we turned inland to +the wonderful great titans of mountains clear-cut in the crystalline +air. Never was such air. Crystalline is the only word which will +describe it, for almost it seemed that it would ring clearly when +struck, so sparkling and delicate and fragile was it. The crags and +fissures across the way--two miles across the way--were revealed +through it as through some medium whose transparence was absolute. +They challenged the eye, stereoscopic in their relief. Were it not for +the belittling effects of the distance, we felt that we might count the +frost seams or the glacial scorings on every granite apron. Far below +we saw the irregular outline of our lake. It looked like a pond a few +hundred feet down. Then we made out a pin-point of white moving +leisurely near its border. After a while we realized that the +pin-point of white was one of our pack-horses, and immediately the flat +little scene shot backwards as though moved from behind and +acknowledged its due number of miles. The miniature crags at its back +became gigantic; the peaks beyond grew thousands of feet in the +establishment of a proportion which the lack of "atmosphere" had +denied. We never succeeded in getting adequate photographs. As well +take pictures of any eroded little arroyo or granite canon. Relative +sizes do not exist, unless pointed out. + +"See that speck there?" we explain. "That's a big pine-tree. So by +that you can see how tremendous those cliffs really are." + +And our guest looks incredulously at the speck. + +There was snow, of course, lying cold in the hot sun. This phenomenon +always impresses a man when first he sees it. Often I have ridden with +my sleeves rolled up and the front of my shirt open, over drifts whose +edges, even, dripped no water. The direct rays seem to have absolutely +no effect. A scientific explanation I have never heard expressed; but +I suppose the cold nights freeze the drifts and pack them so hard that +the short noon heat cannot penetrate their density. I may be quite +wrong as to my reason, but I am entirely correct as to my fact. + +Another curious thing is that we met our mosquitoes only rarely below +the snow-line. The camping in the Sierras is ideal for lack of these +pests. They never bite hard nor stay long even when found. But just +as sure as we approached snow, then we renewed acquaintance with our +old friends of the north woods. + +It is analogous to the fact that the farther north you go into the fur +countries, the more abundant they become. + +By and by it was time to descend. The camp lay directly below us. We +decided to go to it straight, and so stepped off on an impossibly steep +slope covered, not with the great boulders and granite blocks, but with +a fine loose shale. At every stride we stepped ten feet and slid five. +It was gloriously near to flying. Leaning far back, our arms spread +wide to keep our balance, spying alertly far ahead as to where we were +going to land, utterly unable to check until we encountered a +half-buried ledge of some sort, and shouting wildly at every plunge, we +fairly shot downhill. The floor of our valley rose to us as the earth +to a descending balloon. In three quarters of an hour we had reached +the first flat. + +There we halted to puzzle over the trail of a mountain lion clearly +printed on the soft ground. What had the great cat been doing away up +there above the hunting country, above cover, above everything that +would appeal to a well-regulated cat of any size whatsoever? We +theorized at length, but gave it up finally, and went on. Then a +familiar perfume rose to our nostrils. We plucked curiously at a bed +of catnip and wondered whether the animal had journeyed so far to enjoy +what is always such a treat to her domestic sisters. + +It was nearly dark when we reached camp. We found Wes contentedly +scraping away at the bearskins. + +"Hello," said he, looking up with a grin. "Hello, you dam fools! I'VE +been having a good time. I've been fishing." + + + +XVIII + +THE GIANT FOREST + +Every one is familiar, at least by reputation and photograph, with the +Big Trees of California. All have seen pictures of stage-coaches +driving in passageways cut through the bodies of the trunks; of troops +of cavalry ridden on the prostrate trees. No one but has heard of the +dancing-floor or the dinner-table cut from a single cross-section; and +probably few but have seen some of the fibrous bark of unbelievable +thickness. The Mariposa, Calaveras, and Santa Cruz groves have become +household names. + +The public at large, I imagine, meaning by that you and me and our +neighbors, harbor an idea that the Big Tree occurs only as a remnant, +in scattered little groves carefully fenced and piously visited by the +tourist. What would we have said to the information that in the very +heart of the Sierras there grows a thriving forest of these great +trees; that it takes over a day to ride throughout that forest; and +that it comprises probably over five thousand specimens? + +Yet such is the case. On the ridges and high plateaus north of the +Kaweah River is the forest I describe; and of that forest the trees +grow from fifteen to twenty-six feet in diameter. Do you know what +that means? Get up from your chair and pace off the room you are in. +If it is a very big room, its longest dimension would just about +contain one of the bigger trunks. Try to imagine a tree like that. + +It must be a columnar tree straight and true as the supports of a Greek +facade. The least deviation from the perpendicular of such a mass +would cause it to fall. The limbs are sturdy like the arms of +Hercules, and grow out from the main trunk direct instead of dividing +and leading that main trunk to themselves, as is the case with other +trees. The column rises with a true taper to its full height; then is +finished with the conical effect of the top of a monument. Strangely +enough the frond is exceedingly fine, and the cones small. + +When first you catch sight of a Sequoia, it does not impress you +particularly except as a very fine tree. Its proportions are so +perfect that its effect is rather to belittle its neighbors than to +show in its true magnitude. Then, gradually, as your experience takes +cognizance of surroundings,--the size of a sugar-pine, of a boulder, of +a stream flowing near,--the giant swells and swells before your very +vision until he seems at the last even greater than the mere statistics +of his inches had led you to believe. And after that first surprise +over finding the Sequoia something not monstrous but beautiful in +proportion has given place to the full realization of what you are +beholding, you will always wonder why no one who has seen has ever +given any one who has not seen an adequate idea of these magnificent +old trees. + +Perhaps the most insistent note, besides that of mere size and dignity, +is of absolute stillness. These trees do not sway to the wind, their +trunks are constructed to stand solid. Their branches do not bend and +murmur, for they too are rigid in fiber. Their fine thread-like +needles may catch the breeze's whisper, may draw together and apart for +the exchange of confidences as do the leaves of other trees, but if so, +you and I are too far below to distinguish it. All about, the other +forest growths may be rustling and bowing and singing with the voices +of the air; the Sequoia stands in the hush of an absolute calm. It is +as though he dreamed, too wrapt in still great thoughts of his youth, +when the earth itself was young, to share the worldlier joys of his +neighbor, to be aware of them, even himself to breathe deeply. You feel +in the presence of these trees as you would feel in the presence of a +kindly and benignant sage, too occupied with larger things to enter +fully into your little affairs, but well disposed in the wisdom of +clear spiritual insight. + +This combination of dignity, immobility, and a certain serene +detachment has on me very much the same effect as does a mountain +against the sky. It is quite unlike the impression made by any other +tree, however large, and is lovable. + +We entered the Giant Forest by a trail that climbed. Always we entered +desirable places by trails that climbed or dropped. Our access to +paradise was never easy. About halfway up we met five pack-mules and +two men coming down. For some reason, unknown, I suspect, even to the +god of chance, our animals behaved themselves and walked straight ahead +in a beautiful dignity, while those weak-minded mules scattered and +bucked and scraped under trees and dragged back on their halters when +caught. The two men cast on us malevolent glances as often as they +were able, but spent most of their time swearing and running about. We +helped them once or twice by heading off, but were too thankfully +engaged in treading lightly over our own phenomenal peace to pay much +attention. Long after we had gone on, we caught bursts of rumpus +ascending from below. Shortly we came to a comparatively level +country, and a little meadow, and a rough sign which read + +"Feed 20C a night." + + +Just beyond this extortion was the Giant Forest. + +We entered it toward the close of the afternoon, and rode on after our +wonted time looking for feed at less than twenty cents a night. The +great trunks, fluted like marble columns, blackened against the western +sky. As they grew huger, we seemed to shrink, until we moved fearful +as prehistoric man must have moved among the forces over which he had +no control. We discovered our feed in a narrow "stringer" a few miles +on. That night, we, pigmies, slept in the setting before which should +have stridden the colossi of another age. Perhaps eventually, in spite +of its magnificence and wonder, we were a little glad to leave the +Giant Forest. It held us too rigidly to a spiritual standard of which +our normal lives were incapable; it insisted on a loftiness of soul, a +dignity, an aloofness from the ordinary affairs of life, the ordinary +occupations of thought hardly compatible with the powers of any +creature less noble, less aged, less wise in the passing of centuries +than itself. + + + +XIX + +ON COWBOYS + +Your cowboy is a species variously subdivided. If you happen to be +traveled as to the wild countries, you will be able to recognize whence +your chance acquaintance hails by the kind of saddle he rides, and the +rigging of it; by the kind of rope he throws, and the method of the +throwing; by the shape of hat he wears; by his twist of speech; even by +the very manner of his riding. Your California "vaquero" from the +Coast Ranges is as unlike as possible to your Texas cowman, and both +differ from the Wyoming or South Dakota article. I should be puzzled +to define exactly the habitat of the "typical" cowboy. No matter where +you go, you will find your individual acquaintance varying from the +type in respect to some of the minor details. + +Certain characteristics run through the whole tribe, however. Of these +some are so well known or have been so adequately done elsewhere that +it hardly seems wise to elaborate on them here. Let us assume that you +and I know what sort of human beings cowboys are,--with all their +taciturnity, their surface gravity, their keen sense of humor, their +courage, their kindness, their freedom, their lawlessness, their +foulness of mouth, and their supreme skill in the handling of horses +and cattle. I shall try to tell you nothing of all that. + +If one thinks down doggedly to the last analysis, he will find that the +basic reason for the differences between a cowboy and other men rests +finally on an individual liberty, a freedom from restraint either of +society or convention, a lawlessness, an accepting of his own standard +alone. He is absolutely self-poised and sufficient; and that +self-poise and that sufficiency he takes pains to assure first of all. +After their assurance he is willing to enter into human relations. His +attitude toward everything in life is, not suspicious, but watchful. +He is "gathered together," his elbows at his side. + +This evidences itself most strikingly in his terseness of speech. A +man dependent on himself naturally does not give himself away to the +first comer. He is more interested in finding out what the other fellow +is than in exploiting his own importance. A man who does much +promiscuous talking he is likely to despise, arguing that man +incautious, hence weak. + +Yet when he does talk, he talks to the point and with a vivid and +direct picturesqueness of phrase which is as refreshing as it is +unexpected. The delightful remodeling of the English language in Mr. +Alfred Lewis's "Wolfville" is exaggerated only in quantity, not in +quality. No cowboy talks habitually in quite as original a manner as +Mr. Lewis's Old Cattleman; but I have no doubt that in time he would be +heard to say all the good things in that volume. I myself have +note-books full of just such gorgeous language, some of the best of +which I have used elsewhere, and so will not repeat here.[1] + +This vividness manifests itself quite as often in the selection of the +apt word as in the construction of elaborate phrases with a +half-humorous intention. A cowboy once told me of the arrival of a +tramp by saying, "He SIFTED into camp." Could any verb be more +expressive? Does not it convey exactly the lazy, careless, +out-at-heels shuffling gait of the hobo? Another in the course of +description told of a saloon scene, "They all BELLIED UP TO the bar." +Again, a range cook, objecting to purposeless idling about his fire, +shouted: "If you fellows come MOPING around here any more, I'LL SURE +MAKE YOU HARD TO CATCH!" "Fish in that pond, son? Why, there's some +fish in there big enough to rope," another advised me. "I quit +shoveling," one explained the story of his life, "because I couldn't +see nothing ahead of shoveling but dirt." The same man described +ploughing as, "Looking at a mule's tail all day." And one of the most +succinct epitomes of the motifs of fiction was offered by an old fellow +who looked over my shoulder as I was reading a novel. "Well, son," +said he, "what they doing now, KISSING OR KILLING?" + +Nor are the complete phrases behind in aptness. I have space for only +a few examples, but they will illustrate what I mean. Speaking of a +companion who was "putting on too much dog," I was informed, "He walks +like a man with a new suit of WOODEN UNDERWEAR!" Or again, in answer +to my inquiry as to a mutual acquaintance, "Jim? Oh, poor old Jim! +For the last week or so he's been nothing but an insignificant atom of +humanity hitched to a boil." + +But to observe the riot of imagination turned loose with the bridle +off, you must assist at a burst of anger on the part of one of these +men. It is mostly unprintable, but you will get an entirely new idea +of what profanity means. Also you will come to the conclusion that +you, with your trifling DAMNS, and the like, have been a very good boy +indeed. The remotest, most obscure, and unheard of conceptions are +dragged forth from earth, heaven, and hell, and linked together in a +sequence so original, so gaudy, and so utterly blasphemous, that you +gasp and are stricken with the most devoted admiration. It is genius. + +Of course I can give you no idea here of what these truly magnificent +oaths are like. It is a pity, for it would liberalize your education. +Occasionally, like a trickle of clear water into an alkali torrent, a +straight English sentence will drop into the flood. It is refreshing +by contrast, but weak. + +"If your brains were all made of dynamite, you couldn't blow the top of +your head off." + +"I wouldn't speak to him if I met him in hell carrying a lump of ice in +his hand." + +"That little horse'll throw you so high the blackbirds will build nests +in your hair before you come down." + +These are ingenious and amusing, but need the blazing settings from +which I have ravished them to give them their due force. + +In Arizona a number of us were sitting around the feeble camp-fire the +desert scarcity of fuel permits, smoking our pipes. We were all +contemplative and comfortably silent with the exception of one very +youthful person who had a lot to say. It was mainly about himself. +After he had bragged awhile without molestation, one of the older +cow-punchers grew very tired of it. He removed his pipe deliberately, +and spat in the fire. + +"Say, son," he drawled, "if you want to say something big, why don't +you say 'elephant'?" + +The young fellow subsided. We went on smoking our pipes. + +Down near the Chiracahua Range in southeastern Arizona, there is a +butte, and halfway up that butte is a cave, and in front of that cave +is a ramshackle porch-roof or shed. This latter makes the cave into a +dwelling-house. It is inhabited by an old "alkali" and half a dozen +bear dogs. I sat with the old fellow one day for nearly an hour. It +was a sociable visit, but economical of the English language. He made +one remark, outside our initial greeting. It was enough, for in +terseness, accuracy, and compression, I have never heard a better or +more comprehensive description of the arid countries. + +"Son," said he, "in this country thar is more cows and less butter, +more rivers and less water, and you kin see farther and see less than +in any other country in the world." + +Now this peculiar directness of phrase means but one thing,--freedom +from the influence of convention. The cowboy respects neither the +dictionary nor usage. He employs his words in the manner that best +suits him, and arranges them in the sequence that best expresses his +idea, untrammeled by tradition. It is a phase of the same lawlessness, +the same reliance on self, that makes for his taciturnity and +watchfulness. + +In essence, his dress is an adaptation to the necessities of his +calling; as a matter of fact, it is an elaboration on that. The broad +heavy felt hat he has found by experience to be more effective in +turning heat than a lighter straw; he further runs to variety in the +shape of the crown and in the nature of the band. He wears a silk +handkerchief about his neck to turn the sun and keep out the dust, but +indulges in astonishing gaudiness of color. His gauntlets save his +hands from the rope; he adds a fringe and a silver star. The heavy +wide "chaps" of leather about his legs are necessary to him when he is +riding fast through brush; he indulges in such frivolities as stamped +leather, angora hair, and the like. High heels to his boots prevent +his foot from slipping through his wide stirrup, and are useful to dig +into the ground when he is roping in the corral. Even his six-shooter +is more a tool of his trade than a weapon of defense. With it he +frightens cattle from the heavy brush; he slaughters old or diseased +steers; he "turns the herd" in a stampede or when rounding it in; and +especially is it handy and loose to his hip in case his horse should +fall and commence to drag him. + +So the details of his appearance spring from the practical, but in the +wearing of them and the using of them he shows again that fine +disregard for the way other people do it or think it. + +Now in civilization you and I entertain a double respect for firearms +and the law. Firearms are dangerous, and it is against the law to use +them promiscuously. If we shoot them off in unexpected places, we +first of all alarm unduly our families and neighbors, and in due course +attract the notice of the police. By the time we are grown up we look +on shooting a revolver as something to be accomplished after an +especial trip for the purpose. + +But to the cowboy shooting a gun is merely what lighting a match would +be to us. We take reasonable care not to scratch that match on the +wall nor to throw it where it will do harm. Likewise the cowboy takes +reasonable care that his bullets do not land in some one's anatomy nor +in too expensive bric-a-brac. Otherwise any time or place will do. + +The picture comes to me of a bunk-house on an Arizona range. The time +was evening. A half-dozen cowboys were sprawled out on the beds +smoking, and three more were playing poker with the Chinese cook. A +misguided rat darted out from under one of the beds and made for the +empty fireplace. He finished his journey in smoke. Then the four who +had shot slipped their guns back into their holsters and resumed their +cigarettes and drawling low-toned conversation. + +On another occasion I stopped for noon at the Circle I ranch. While +waiting for dinner, I lay on my back in the bunk-room and counted three +hundred and sixty-two bullet-holes in the ceiling. They came to be +there because the festive cowboys used to while away the time while +lying as I was lying, waiting for supper, in shooting the flies that +crawled about the plaster. + +This beautiful familiarity with the pistol as a parlor toy accounts in +great part for a cowboy's propensity to "shoot up the town" and his +indignation when arrested therefor. + +The average cowboy is only a fair target-shot with the revolver. But +he is chain lightning at getting his gun off in a hurry. There are +exceptions to this, however, especially among the older men. Some can +handle the Colts 45 and its heavy recoil with almost uncanny accuracy. +I have seen individuals who could from their saddles nip lizards +darting across the road; and one who was able to perforate twice before +it hit the ground a tomato-can tossed into the air. The cowboy is +prejudiced against the double-action gun, for some reason or other. He +manipulates his single-action weapon fast enough, however. + +His sense of humor takes the same unexpected slants, not because his +mental processes differ from those of other men, but because he is +unshackled by the subtle and unnoticed nothingnesses of precedent which +deflect our action toward the common uniformity of our neighbors. It +must be confessed that his sense of humor possesses also a certain +robustness. + +The J. H. outfit had been engaged for ten days in busting broncos. +This the Chinese cook, Sang, a newcomer in the territory, found vastly +amusing. He liked to throw the ropes off the prostrate broncos, when +all was ready; to slap them on the flanks; to yell shrill Chinese +yells; and to dance in celestial delight when the terrified animal +arose and scattered out of there. But one day the range men drove up a +little bunch of full-grown cattle that had been bought from a smaller +owner. It was necessary to change the brands. Therefore a little fire +was built, the stamp-brand put in to heat, and two of the men on +horseback caught a cow by the horns and one hind leg, and promptly +upset her. The old brand was obliterated, the new one burnt in. This +irritated the cow. Promptly the branding-men, who were of course +afoot, climbed to the top of the corral to be out of the way. At this +moment, before the horsemen could flip loose their ropes, Sang appeared. + +"Hol' on!" he babbled. "I take him off;" and he scrambled over the +fence and approached the cow. + +Now cattle of any sort rush at the first object they see after getting +to their feet. But whereas a steer makes a blind run and so can be +avoided, a cow keeps her eyes open. Sang approached that wild-eyed +cow, a bland smile on his countenance. + +A dead silence fell. Looking about at my companions' faces I could not +discern even in the depths of their eyes a single faint flicker of +human interest. + +Sang loosened the rope from the hind leg, he threw it from the horns, +he slapped the cow with his hat, and uttered the shrill Chinese yell. +So far all was according to programme. + +The cow staggered to her feet, her eyes blazing fire. She took one good +look, and then started for Sang. + +What followed occurred with all the briskness of a tune from a circus +band. Sang darted for the corral fence. Now, three sides of the +corral were railed, and so climbable, but the fourth was a solid adobe +wall. Of course Sang went for the wall. There, finding his nails +would not stick, he fled down the length of it, his queue streaming, +his eyes popping, his talons curved toward an ideal of safety, +gibbering strange monkey talk, pursued a scant arm's length behind by +that infuriated cow. Did any one help him? Not any. Every man of +that crew was hanging weak from laughter to the horn of his saddle or +the top of the fence. The preternatural solemnity had broken to little +bits. Men came running from the bunk-house, only to go into spasms +outside, to roll over and over on the ground, clutching handfuls of +herbage in the agony of their delight. + +At the end of the corral was a narrow chute. Into this Sang escaped as +into a burrow. The cow came too. Sang, in desperation, seized a pole, +but the cow dashed such a feeble weapon aside. Sang caught sight of a +little opening, too small for cows, back into the main corral. He +squeezed through. The cow crashed through after him, smashing the +boards. At the crucial moment Sang tripped and fell on his face. The +cow missed him by so close a margin that for a moment we thought she +had hit. But she had not, and before she could turn, Sang had topped +the fence and was halfway to the kitchen. Tom Waters always maintained +that he spread his Chinese sleeves and flew. Shortly after a +tremendous smoke arose from the kitchen chimney. Sang had gone back to +cooking. + +Now that Mongolian was really in great danger, but no one of the outfit +thought for a moment of any but the humorous aspect of the affair. +Analogously, in a certain small cow-town I happened to be transient +when the postmaster shot a Mexican. Nothing was done about it. The man +went right on being postmaster, but he had to set up the drinks because +he had hit the Mexican in the stomach. That was considered a poor place +to hit a man. + +The entire town of Willcox knocked off work for nearly a day to while +away the tedium of an enforced wait there on my part. They wanted me +to go fishing. One man offered a team, the other a saddle-horse. All +expended much eloquence in directing me accurately, so that I should be +sure to find exactly the spot where I could hang my feet over a bank +beneath which there were "a plumb plenty of fish." Somehow or other +they raked out miscellaneous tackle. But they were a little too eager. +I excused myself and hunted up a map. Sure enough the lake was there, +but it had been dry since a previous geological period. The fish were +undoubtedly there too, but they were fossil fish. I borrowed a pickaxe +and shovel and announced myself as ready to start. + +Outside the principal saloon in one town hung a gong. When a stranger +was observed to enter the saloon, that gong was sounded. Then it +behooved him to treat those who came in answer to the summons. + +But when it comes to a case of real hospitality or helpfulness, your +cowboy is there every time. You are welcome to food and shelter without +price, whether he is at home or not. Only it is etiquette to leave +your name and thanks pinned somewhere about the place. Otherwise your +intrusion may be considered in the light of a theft, and you may be +pursued accordingly. + +Contrary to general opinion, the cowboy is not a dangerous man to those +not looking for trouble. There are occasional exceptions, of course, +but they belong to the universal genus of bully, and can be found among +any class. Attend to your own business, be cool and good-natured, and +your skin is safe. Then when it is really "up to you," be a man; you +will never lack for friends. + +The Sierras, especially towards the south where the meadows are wide +and numerous, are full of cattle in small bands. They come up from the +desert about the first of June, and are driven back again to the arid +countries as soon as the autumn storms begin. In the very high land +they are few, and to be left to their own devices; but now we entered a +new sort of country. + +Below Farewell Gap and the volcanic regions one's surroundings change +entirely. The meadows become high flat valleys, often miles in extent; +the mountains--while registering big on the aneroid--are so little +elevated above the plateaus that a few thousand feet is all of their +apparent height; the passes are low, the slopes easy, the trails good, +the rock outcrops few, the hills grown with forests to their very tops. +Altogether it is a country easy to ride through, rich in grazing, cool +and green, with its eight thousand feet of elevation. Consequently +during the hot months thousands of desert cattle are pastured here; and +with them come many of the desert men. + +Our first intimation of these things was in the volcanic region where +swim the golden trout. From the advantage of a hill we looked far down +to a hair-grass meadow through which twisted tortuously a brook, and by +the side of the brook, belittled by distance, was a miniature man. We +could see distinctly his every movement, as he approached cautiously +the stream's edge, dropped his short line at the end of a stick over +the bank, and then yanked bodily the fish from beneath. Behind him +stood his pony. We could make out in the clear air the coil of his +raw-hide "rope," the glitter of his silver bit, the metal points on his +saddle skirts, the polish of his six-shooter, the gleam of his fish, +all the details of his costume. Yet he was fully a mile distant. +After a time he picked up his string of fish, mounted, and jogged +loosely away at the cow-pony's little Spanish trot toward the south. +Over a week later, having caught golden trout and climbed Mount +Whitney, we followed him and so came to the great central camp at +Monache Meadows. + +Imagine an island-dotted lake of grass four or five miles long by two +or three wide to which slope regular shores of stony soil planted with +trees. Imagine on the very edge of that lake an especially fine grove +perhaps a quarter of a mile in length, beneath whose trees a dozen +different outfits of cowboys are camped for the summer. You must place +a herd of ponies in the foreground, a pine mountain at the back, an +unbroken ridge across ahead, cattle dotted here and there, thousands of +ravens wheeling and croaking and flapping everywhere, a marvelous clear +sun and blue sky. The camps were mostly open, though a few possessed +tents. They differed from the ordinary in that they had racks for +saddles and equipments. Especially well laid out were the cooking +arrangements. A dozen accommodating springs supplied fresh water with +the conveniently regular spacing of faucets. + +Towards evening the men jingled in. This summer camp was almost in the +nature of a vacation to them after the hard work of the desert. All +they had to do was to ride about the pleasant hills examining that the +cattle did not stray nor get into trouble. It was fun for them, and +they were in high spirits. + +Our immediate neighbors were an old man of seventy-two and his grandson +of twenty-five. At least the old man said he was seventy-two. I +should have guessed fifty. He was as straight as an arrow, wiry, lean, +clear-eyed, and had, without food, ridden twelve hours after some +strayed cattle. On arriving he threw off his saddle, turned his horse +loose, and set about the construction of supper. This consisted of +boiled meat, strong tea, and an incredible number of flapjacks built of +water, baking-powder, salt, and flour, warmed through--not cooked--in a +frying-pan. He deluged these with molasses and devoured three +platefuls. It would have killed an ostrich, but apparently did this +decrepit veteran of seventy-two much good. + +After supper he talked to us most interestingly in the dry cowboy +manner, looking at us keenly from under the floppy brim of his hat. He +confided to us that he had had to quit smoking, and it ground him--he'd +smoked since he was five years old. + +"Tobacco doesn't agree with you any more?" I hazarded. + +"Oh, 'taint that," he replied; "only I'd ruther chew." + +The dark fell, and all the little camp-fires under the trees twinkled +bravely forth. Some of the men sang. One had an accordion. Figures, +indistinct and formless, wandered here and there in the shadows, +suddenly emerging from mystery into the clarity of firelight, there to +disclose themselves as visitors. Out on the plain the cattle lowed, +the horses nickered. The red firelight flashed from the metal of +suspended equipment, crimsoned the bronze of men's faces, touched with +pink the high lights on their gracefully recumbent forms. After a +while we rolled up in our blankets and went to sleep, while a band of +coyotes wailed like lost spirits from a spot where a steer had died. + + +[1] See especially Jackson Himes in The Blazed Trail; and The Rawhide. + + + +XX + +THE GOLDEN TROUT + +After Farewell Gap, as has been hinted, the country changes utterly. +Possibly that is why it is named Farewell Gap. The land is wild, +weird, full of twisted trees, strangely colored rocks, fantastic +formations, bleak mountains of slabs, volcanic cones, lava, dry powdery +soil or loose shale, close-growing grasses, and strong winds. You feel +yourself in an upper world beyond the normal, where only the freakish +cold things of nature, elsewhere crowded out, find a home. Camp is +under a lonely tree, none the less solitary from the fact that it has +companions. The earth beneath is characteristic of the treeless lands, +so that these seem to have been stuck alien into it. There is no +shelter save behind great fortuitous rocks. Huge marmots run over the +boulders, like little bears. The wind blows strong. The streams run +naked under the eye of the sun, exposing clear and yellow every detail +of their bottoms. In them there are no deep hiding-places any more +than there is shelter in the land, and so every fish that swims shows +as plainly as in an aquarium. + +We saw them as we rode over the hot dry shale among the hot and twisted +little trees. They lay against the bottom, transparent; they darted +away from the jar of our horses' hoofs; they swam slowly against the +current, delicate as liquid shadows, as though the clear uniform golden +color of the bottom had clouded slightly to produce these tenuous +ghostly forms. We examined them curiously from the advantage our +slightly elevated trail gave us, and knew them for the Golden Trout, +and longed to catch some. + +All that day our route followed in general the windings of this unique +home of a unique fish. We crossed a solid natural bridge; we skirted +fields of red and black lava, vivid as poppies; we gazed marveling on +perfect volcano cones, long since extinct: finally we camped on a side +hill under two tall branchless trees in about as bleak and exposed a +position as one could imagine. Then all three, we jointed our rods and +went forth to find out what the Golden Trout was like. + +I soon discovered a number of things, as follows: The stream at this +point, near its source, is very narrow--I could step across it--and +flows beneath deep banks. The Golden Trout is shy of approach. The +wind blows. Combining these items of knowledge I found that it was no +easy matter to cast forty feet in a high wind so accurately as to hit a +three-foot stream a yard below the level of the ground. In fact, the +proposition was distinctly sporty; I became as interested in it as in +accurate target-shooting, so that at last I forgot utterly the +intention of my efforts and failed to strike my first rise. The +second, however, I hooked, and in a moment had him on the grass. + +He was a little fellow of seven inches, but mere size was nothing, the +color was the thing. And that was indeed golden. I can liken it to +nothing more accurately than the twenty-dollar gold-piece, the same +satin finish, the same pale yellow. The fish was fairly molten. It +did not glitter in gaudy burnishment, as does our aquarium gold-fish, +for example, but gleamed and melted and glowed as though fresh from the +mould. One would almost expect that on cutting the flesh it would be +found golden through all its substance. This for the basic color. You +must remember always that it was a true trout, without scales, and so +the more satiny. Furthermore, along either side of the belly ran two +broad longitudinal stripes of exactly the color and burnish of the +copper paint used on racing yachts. + +I thought then, and have ever since, that the Golden Trout, fresh from +the water, is one of the most beautiful fish that swims. Unfortunately +it fades very quickly, and so specimens in alcohol can give no idea of +it. In fact, I doubt if you will ever be able to gain a very clear +idea of it unless you take to the trail that leads up, under the end of +which is known technically as the High Sierras. + +The Golden Trout lives only in this one stream, but occurs there in +countless multitudes. Every little pool, depression, or riffles has +its school. When not alarmed they take the fly readily. One afternoon +I caught an even hundred in a little over an hour. By way of +parenthesis it may be well to state that most were returned unharmed to +the water. They run small,--a twelve-inch fish is a monster,--but are +of extraordinary delicacy for eating. We three devoured sixty-five +that first evening in camp. + +Now the following considerations seem to me at this point worthy of +note. In the first place, the Golden Trout occurs but in this one +stream, and is easily caught. At present the stream is comparatively +inaccessible, so that the natural supply probably keeps even with the +season's catches. Still the trail is on the direct route to Mount +Whitney, and year by year the ascent of this "top of the Republic" is +becoming more the proper thing to do. Every camping party stops for a +try at the Golden Trout, and of course the fish-hog is a sure +occasional migrant. The cowboys told of two who caught six hundred in a +day. As the certainly increasing tide of summer immigration gains in +volume, the Golden Trout, in spite of his extraordinary numbers at +present, is going to be caught out. + +Therefore, it seems the manifest duty of the Fisheries to provide for +the proper protection and distribution of this species, especially the +distribution. Hundreds of streams in the Sierras are without trout +simply because of some natural obstruction, such as a waterfall too +high to jump, which prevents their ascent of the current. These are +all well adapted to the planting of fish, and might just as well be +stocked by the Golden Trout as by the customary Rainbow. Care should be +taken lest the two species become hybridized, as has occurred following +certain misguided efforts in the South Fork of the Kern. + +So far as I know but one attempt has been made to transplant these +fish. About five or six years ago a man named Grant carried some in +pails across to a small lake near at hand. They have done well, and +curiously enough have grown to a weight of from one and a half to two +pounds. This would seem to show that their small size in Volcano Creek +results entirely from conditions of feed or opportunity for +development, and that a study of proper environment might result in a +game fish to rival the Rainbow in size and certainly to surpass him in +curious interest. + +A great many well-meaning people who have marveled at the abundance of +the Golden Trout in their natural habitat laugh at the idea that +Volcano Creek will ever become "fished out." To such it should be +pointed out that the fish in question is a voracious feeder, is without +shelter, and quickly landed. A simple calculation will show how many +fish a hundred moderate anglers, camping a week apiece, would take out +in a season. And in a short time there will be many more than a +hundred, few of them moderate, coming up into the mountains to camp +just as long as they have a good time. All it needs is better trails, +and better trails are under way. Well-meaning people used to laugh at +the idea that the buffalo and wild pigeons would ever disappear. They +are gone. + + + +XXI + +ON GOING OUT + +The last few days of your stay in the wilderness you will be consumedly +anxious to get out. It does not matter how much of a savage you are, +how good a time you are having, or how long you have been away from +civilization. Nor does it mean especially that you are glad to leave +the wilds. Merely does it come about that you drift unconcernedly on +the stream of days until you approach the brink of departure: then +irresistibly the current hurries you into haste. The last day of your +week's vacation; the last three of your month's or your summer's or +your year's outing,--these comprise the hours in which by a mighty but +invisible transformation your mind forsakes its savagery, epitomizes +again the courses of social evolution, regains the poise and +cultivation of the world of men. Before that you have been content; +yes, and would have gone on being content for as long as you please +until the approach of the limit you have set for your wandering. + +In effect this transformation from the state of savagery to the state +of civilization is very abrupt. When you leave the towns your clothes +and mind are new. Only gradually do they take on the color of their +environment; only gradually do the subtle influences of the great +forest steal in on your dulled faculties to flow over them in a tide +that rises imperceptibly. You glide as gently from the artificial to +the natural life as do the forest shadows from night to day. But at +the other end the affair is different. There you awake on the appointed +morning in complete resumption of your old attitude of mind. The tide +of nature has slipped away from you in the night. + +Then you arise and do the most wonderful of your wilderness traveling. +On those days you look back fondly, of them you boast afterwards in +telling what a rapid and enduring voyager you are. The biggest day's +journey I ever undertook was in just such a case. We started at four +in the morning through a forest of the early spring-time, where the +trees were glorious overhead, but the walking ankle deep. On our backs +were thirty-pound burdens. We walked steadily until three in the +afternoon, by which time we had covered thirty miles and had arrived at +what then represented civilization to us. Of the nine who started, two +Indians finished an hour ahead; the half breed, Billy, and I staggered +in together, encouraging each other by words concerning the bottle of +beer we were going to buy; and the five white men never got in at all +until after nine o'clock that night. Neither thirty miles, nor thirty +pounds, nor ankle-deep slush sounds formidable when considered as +abstract and separate propositions. + +In your first glimpse of the civilized peoples your appearance in your +own eyes will undergo the same instantaneous and tremendous revulsion +that has already taken place in your mental sphere. Heretofore you +have considered yourself as a decently well appointed gentleman of the +woods. Ten to one, in contrast to the voluntary or enforced simplicity +of the professional woodsman you have looked on your little luxuries of +carved leather hat-band, fancy knife sheath, pearl-handled six-shooter, +or khaki breeches as giving you slightly the air of a forest exquisite. +But on that depot platform or in presence of that staring group on the +steps of the Pullman, you suddenly discover yourself to be nothing less +than a disgrace to your bringing up. Nothing could be more evident +than the flop of your hat, the faded, dusty appearance of your blue +shirt, the beautiful black polish of your khakis, the grime of your +knuckles, the three days' beard of your face. If you are a fool, you +worry about it. If you are a sensible man, you do not mind;--and you +prepare for amusing adventures. + +The realization of your external unworthiness, however, brings to your +heart the desire for a hot bath in a porcelain tub. You gloat over the +thought; and when the dream comes to be a reality, you soak away in as +voluptuous a pleasure as ever falls to the lot of man to enjoy. Then +you shave, and array yourself minutely and preciously in clean clothes +from head to toe, building up a new respectability, and you leave +scornfully in a heap your camping garments. They have heretofore +seemed clean, but now you would not touch them, no, not even to put +them in the soiled-clothes basket, let your feminines rave as they may. +And for at least two days you prove an almost childish delight in mere +raiment. + +But before you can reach this blissful stage you have still to order +and enjoy your first civilized dinner. It tastes good, not because +your camp dinners have palled on you, but because your transformation +demands its proper aliment. Fortunate indeed you are if you step +directly to a transcontinental train or into the streets of a modern +town. Otherwise the transition through the small-hotel provender is +apt to offer too little contrast for the fullest enjoyment. But aboard +the dining-car or in the cafe you will gather to yourself such +ill-assorted succulence as thick, juicy beefsteaks, and creamed +macaroni, and sweet potatoes, and pie, and red wine, and real cigars +and other things. + +In their acquisition your appearance will tell against you. We were +once watched anxiously by a nervous female head waiter who at last +mustered up courage enough to inform me that guests were not allowed to +eat without coats. We politely pointed out that we possessed no such +garments. After a long consultation with the proprietor she told us it +was all right for this time, but that we must not do it again. At +another place I had to identify myself as a responsible person by +showing a picture in a magazine bought for the purpose. + +The public never will know how to take you. Most of it treats you as +though you were a two-dollar a day laborer; some of the more astute are +puzzled. One February I walked out of the North Country on snowshoes +and stepped directly into a Canadian Pacific transcontinental train. I +was clad in fur cap, vivid blanket coat, corded trousers, German +stockings and moccasins; and my only baggage was the pair of snowshoes. +It was the season of light travel. A single Englishman touring the +world as the crow flies occupied the car. He looked at me so askance +that I made an opportunity of talking to him. I should like to read +his "Travels" to see what he made out of the riddle. In similar +circumstances, and without explanation, I had fun talking French and +swapping boulevard reminiscences with a member of a Parisian theatrical +troupe making a long jump through northern Wisconsin. And once, at six +of the morning, letting myself into my own house with a latch-key, and +sitting down to read the paper until the family awoke, I was nearly +brained by the butler. He supposed me a belated burglar, and had armed +himself with the poker. The most flattering experience of the kind was +voiced by a small urchin who plucked at his mother's sleeve: "Look, +mamma!" he exclaimed in guarded but jubilant tones, "there's a real +Indian!" + +Our last camp of this summer was built and broken in the full leisure +of at least a three weeks' expectation. We had traveled south from the +Golden Trout through the Toowah range. There we had viewed wonders +which I cannot expect you to believe in,--such as a spring of warm +water in which you could bathe and from which you could reach to dip up +a cup of carbonated water on the right hand, or cast a fly into a trout +stream, on the left. At length we entered a high meadow in the shape +of a maltese cross, with pine slopes about it, and springs of water +welling in little humps of green. There the long pine-needles were +extraordinarily thick and the pine-cones exceptionally large. The +former we scraped together to the depth of three feet for a bed in the +lea of a fallen trunk; the latter we gathered in armfuls to pile on the +camp-fire. Next morning we rode down a mile or so through the grasses, +exclaimed over the thousands of mountain quail buzzing from the creek +bottoms, gazed leisurely up at our well-known pines and about at the +grateful coolness of our accustomed green meadows and leaves;--and +then, as though we had crossed a threshold, we emerged into chaparral, +dry loose shale, yucca, Spanish bayonet, heated air and the bleached +burned-out furnace-like country of arid California in midsummer. The +trail dropped down through sage-brush, just as it always did in the +California we had known; the mountains rose with the fur-like +dark-olive effect of the coast ranges; the sun beat hot. We had left +the enchanted land. + +The trail was very steep and very long, and took us finally into the +country of dry brown grasses, gray brush, waterless stony ravines, and +dust. Others had traveled that trail, headed the other way, and +evidently had not liked it. Empty bottles blazed the path. Somebody +had sacrificed a pack of playing-cards, which he had stuck on thorns +from time to time, each inscribed with a blasphemous comment on the +discomforts of such travel. After an apparently interminable interval +we crossed an irrigating ditch, where the horses were glad to water, +and so came to one of those green flowering lush California villages so +startlingly in contrast to their surroundings. + +By this it was two o'clock and we had traveled on horseback since four. +A variety of circumstances learned at the village made it imperative +that both the Tenderfoot and myself should go out without the delay of +a single hour. This left Wes to bring the horses home, which was tough +on Wes, but he rose nobly to the occasion. + +When the dust of our rustling cleared, we found we had acquired a team +of wild broncos, a buckboard, an elderly gentleman with a white goatee, +two bottles of beer, some crackers and some cheese. With these we hoped +to reach the railroad shortly after midnight. + +The elevation was five thousand feet, the road dusty and hot, the +country uninteresting in sage-brush and alkali and rattlesnakes and +general dryness. Constantly we drove, checking off the landmarks in the +good old fashion. Our driver had immigrated from Maine the year +before, and by some chance had drifted straight to the arid regions. +He was vastly disgusted. At every particularly atrocious dust-hole or +unlovely cactus strip he spat into space and remarked in tones of +bottomless contempt:-- + +"BEAU-ti-ful Cal-if-or-nia!" + +This was evidently intended as a quotation. + +Towards sunset we ran up into rounded hills, where we got out at every +rise in order to ease the horses, and where we hurried the old +gentleman beyond the limits of his Easterner's caution at every descent. + +It grew dark. Dimly the road showed gray in the twilight. We did not +know how far exactly we were to go, but imagined that sooner or later +we would top one of the small ridges to look across one of the broad +plateau plains to the lights of our station. You see we had forgotten, +in the midst of flatness, that we were still over five thousand feet +up. Then the road felt its way between two hills;--and the blackness +of night opened below us as well as above, and from some deep and +tremendous abyss breathed the winds of space. + +It was as dark as a cave, for the moon was yet two hours below the +horizon. Somehow the trail turned to the right along that tremendous +cliff. We thought we could make out its direction, the dimness of its +glimmering; but equally well, after we had looked a moment, we could +imagine it one way or another, to right and left. I went ahead to +investigate. The trail to left proved to be the faint reflection of a +clump of "old man" at least five hundred feet down; that to right was a +burned patch sheer against the rise of the cliff. We started on the +middle way. + +There were turns-in where a continuance straight ahead would require an +airship or a coroner; again turns-out where the direct line would +telescope you against the state of California. These we could make out +by straining our eyes. The horses plunged and snorted; the buckboard +leaped. Fire flashed from the impact of steel against rock, +momentarily blinding us to what we should see. Always we descended +into the velvet blackness of the abyss, the canon walls rising steadily +above us shutting out even the dim illumination of the stars. From +time to time our driver, desperately scared, jerked out cheering bits +of information. + +"My eyes ain't what they was. For the Lord's sake keep a-lookin', +boys." + +"That nigh hoss is deef. There don't seem to be no use saying WHOA to +her." + +"Them brakes don't hold fer sour peanuts. I been figgerin' on tackin' +on a new shoe for a week." + +"I never was over this road but onct, and then I was headed th' other +way. I was driving of a corpse." + +Then, after two hours of it, BING! BANG! SMASH! our tongue collided +with a sheer black wall, no blacker than the atmosphere before it. The +trail here took a sharp V turn to the left. We had left the face of +the precipice and henceforward would descend the bed of the canon. +Fortunately our collision had done damage to nothing but our nerves, so +we proceeded to do so. + +The walls of the crevice rose thousands of feet above us. They seemed +to close together, like the sides of a tent, to leave only a narrow +pale lucent strip of sky. The trail was quite invisible, and even the +sense of its existence was lost when we traversed groves of trees. One +of us had to run ahead of the horses, determining its general +direction, locating the sharper turns. The rest depended on the +instinct of the horses and pure luck. + +It was pleasant in the cool of night thus to run down through the +blackness, shouting aloud to guide our followers, swinging to the +slope, bathed to the soul in mysteries of which we had no time to take +cognizance. + +By and by we saw a little spark far ahead of us like a star. The smell +of fresh wood smoke and stale damp fire came to our nostrils. We +gained the star and found it to be a log smouldering; and up the hill +other stars red as blood. So we knew that we had crossed the zone of +an almost extinct forest fire, and looked on the scattered camp-fires +of an army of destruction. + +The moon rose. We knew it by touches of white light on peaks +infinitely far above us; not at all by the relieving of the heavy +velvet blackness in which we moved. After a time, I, running ahead in +my turn, became aware of the deep breathing of animals. I stopped short +and called a warning. Immediately a voice answered me. + +"Come on, straight ahead. They're not on the road." + +When within five feet I made out the huge freight wagons in which were +lying the teamsters, and very dimly the big freight mules standing +tethered to the wheels. + +"It's a dark night, friend, and you're out late." + +"A dark night," I agreed, and plunged on. Behind me rattled and banged +the abused buckboard, snorted the half-wild broncos, groaned the +unrepaired brake, softly cursed my companions. + +Then at once the abrupt descent ceased. We glided out to the silvered +flat, above which sailed the moon. + +The hour was seen to be half past one. We had missed our train. +Nothing was visible of human habitations. The land was frosted with +the moonlight, enchanted by it, etherealized. Behind us, huge and +formidable, loomed the black mass of the range we had descended. +Before us, thin as smoke in the magic lucence that flooded the world, +rose other mountains, very great, lofty as the sky. We could not +understand them. The descent we had just accomplished should have +landed us on a level plain in which lay our town. But here we found +ourselves in a pocket valley entirely surrounded by mountain ranges +through which there seemed to be no pass less than five or six thousand +feet in height. + +We reined in the horses to figure it out. + +"I don't see how it can be," said I. "We've certainly come far enough. +It would take us four hours at the very least to cross that range, even +if the railroad should happen to be on the other side of it." + +"I been through here only once," repeated the driver,--"going the other +way.--Then I drew a corpse." He spat, and added as an afterthought, +"BEAU-ti-ful Cal-if-or-nia!" + +We stared at the mountains that hemmed us in. They rose above us sheer +and forbidding. In the bright moonlight plainly were to be descried +the brush of the foothills, the timber, the fissures, the canons, the +granites, and the everlasting snows. Almost we thought to make out a +thread of a waterfall high up where the clouds would be if the night +had not been clear. + +"We got off the trail somewhere," hazarded the Tenderfoot. + +"Well, we're on a road, anyway," I pointed out. "It's bound to go +somewhere. We might as well give up the railroad and find a place to +turn-in." + +"It can't be far," encouraged the Tenderfoot; "this valley can't be +more than a few miles across." + +"Gi dap!" remarked the driver. + +We moved forward down the white wagon trail approaching the mountains. +And then we were witnesses of the most marvelous transformation. For +as we neared them, those impregnable mountains, as though +panic-stricken by our advance, shrunk back, dissolved, dwindled, went +to pieces. Where had towered ten-thousand-foot peaks, perfect in the +regular succession from timber to snow, now were little flat hills on +which grew tiny bushes of sage. A passage opened between them. In a +hundred yards we had gained the open country, leaving behind us the +mighty but unreal necromancies of the moon. + +Before us gleamed red and green lights. The mass of houses showed half +distinguishable. A feeble glimmer illuminated part of a white sign +above the depot. That which remained invisible was evidently the name +of the town. That which was revealed was the supplementary information +which the Southern Pacific furnishes to its patrons. It read: +"Elevation 482 feet." We were definitely out of the mountains. + + + +XXII + +THE LURE OF THE TRAIL + +The trail's call depends not at all on your common sense. You know you +are a fool for answering it; and yet you go. The comforts of +civilization, to put the case on its lowest plane, are not lightly to +be renounced: the ease of having your physical labor done for you; the +joy of cultivated minds, of theatres, of books, of participation in the +world's progress; these you leave behind you. And in exchange you +enter a life where there is much long hard work of the hands--work that +is really hard and long, so that no man paid to labor would consider it +for a moment; you undertake to eat simply, to endure much, to lie on +the rack of anxiety; you voluntarily place yourself where cold, wet, +hunger, thirst, heat, monotony, danger, and many discomforts will wait +upon you daily. A thousand times in the course of a woods life even +the stoutest-hearted will tell himself softly--very softly if he is +really stout-hearted, so that others may not be annoyed--that if ever +the fates permit him to extricate himself he will never venture again. + +These times come when long continuance has worn on the spirit. You +beat all day to windward against the tide toward what should be but an +hour's sail: the sea is high and the spray cold; there are sunken +rocks, and food there is none; chill gray evening draws dangerously +near, and there is a foot of water in the bilge. You have swallowed +your tongue twenty times on the alkali; and the sun is melting hot, and +the dust dry and pervasive, and there is no water, and for all your +effort the relative distances seem to remain the same for days. You +have carried a pack until your every muscle is strung white-hot; the +woods are breathless; the black flies swarm persistently and bite until +your face is covered with blood. You have struggled through clogging +snow until each time you raise your snowshoe you feel as though some +one had stabbed a little sharp knife into your groin; it has come to be +night; the mercury is away below zero, and with aching fingers you are +to prepare a camp which is only an anticipation of many more such camps +in the ensuing days. For a week it has rained, so that you, pushing +through the dripping brush, are soaked and sodden and comfortless, and +the bushes have become horrible to your shrinking goose-flesh. Or you +are just plain tired out, not from a single day's fatigue, but from the +gradual exhaustion of a long hike. Then in your secret soul you utter +these sentiments:-- + +"You are a fool. This is not fun. There is no real reason why you +should do this. If you ever get out of here, you will stick right home +where common sense flourishes, my son!" + +Then after a time you do get out, and are thankful. But in three months +you will have proved in your own experience the following axiom--I +should call it the widest truth the wilderness has to teach:-- + +"In memory the pleasures of a camping trip strengthen with time, and +the disagreeables weaken." + +I don't care how hard an experience you have had, nor how little of the +pleasant has been mingled with it, in three months your general +impression of that trip will be good. You will look back on the hard +times with a certain fondness of recollection. + +I remember one trip I took in the early spring following a long drive +on the Pine River. It rained steadily for six days. We were soaked to +the skin all the time, ate standing up in the driving downpour, and +slept wet. So cold was it that each morning our blankets were so full +of frost that they crackled stiffly when we turned out. +Dispassionately I can appraise that as about the worst I ever got into. +Yet as an impression the Pine River trip seems to me a most enjoyable +one. + +So after you have been home for a little while the call begins to make +itself heard. At first it is very gentle. But little by little a +restlessness seizes hold of you. You do not know exactly what is the +matter: you are aware merely that your customary life has lost savor, +that you are doing things more or less perfunctorily, and that you are +a little more irritable than your naturally evil disposition. + +And gradually it is borne in on you exactly what is the matter. Then +say you to yourself:-- + +"My son, you know better. You are no tenderfoot. You have had too long +an experience to admit of any glamour of indefiniteness about this +thing. No use bluffing. You know exactly how hard you will have to +work, and how much tribulation you are going to get into, and how +hungry and wet and cold and tired and generally frazzled out you are +going to be. You've been there enough times so it's pretty clearly +impressed on you. You go into this thing with your eyes open. You +know what you're in for. You're pretty well off right here, and you'd +be a fool to go." + +"That's right," says yourself to you. "You're dead right about it, old +man. Do you know where we can get another pack-mule?" + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mountains, by Stewart Edward White + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOUNTAINS *** + +***** This file should be named 465.txt or 465.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/4/6/465/ + +Produced by Dianne Bean. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois + Benedictine College" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Illinois Benedictine College". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + + +?? marks two smudged characters that need to be obtained. +{bean- did encodes, depag, italics, decaption. Couldn't get a +hardcopy for smudged dialect on p 271.} +{jt- reader confirms the letters are "se", so the word is corpse} + + +Scanned by Charles Keller with +OmniPage Professional OCR software +donated by Caere Corporation, 1-800-535-7226. +Contact Mike Lough <Mikel@caere.com> + +THE MOUNTAINS +BY +STEWART EDWARD WHITE + +AUTHOR OF +"THE BLAZED TRAIL," "SILENT PLACES," +"THE FOREST," ETC. + + + + + +PREFACE + + +The author has followed a true sequence of events +practically in all particulars save in respect to the +character of the Tenderfoot. He is in one sense fictitious; +in another sense real. He is real in that he is the +apotheosis of many tenderfeet, and that everything he does +in this narrative he has done at one time or another in the +author's experience. He is fictitious in the sense that he +is in no way to be identified with the third member of our +party in the actual trip. + + +CONTENTS + +I. THE RIDGE TRAIL +II. ON EQUIPMENT +III. ON HORSES +IV. HOW TO GO ABOUT IT +V. THE COAST RANGES +VI. THE INFERNO +VII. THE FOOT-HILLS +VIII. THE PINES +IX. THE TRAIL +X. ON SEEING DEER +XI. ON TENDERFEET +XII. THE CANON +XIII. TROUT, BUCKSKIN, AND PROSPECTORS +XIV. ON CAMP COOKERY +XV. ON THE WIND AT NIGHT +XVI. THE VALLEY +XVII. THE MAIN CREST +XVIII. THE GIANT FOREST +XIX. ON COWBOYS +XX. THE GOLDEN TROUT +XXI. ON GOING OUT +XXII. THE LURE OF THE TRAIL + + + +THE MOUNTAINS + +I + +THE RIDGE TRAIL + +Six trails lead to the main ridge. They are all +good trails, so that even the casual tourist in the +little Spanish-American town on the seacoast need +have nothing to fear from the ascent. In some spots +they contract to an arm's length of space, outside of +which limit they drop sheer away; elsewhere they +stand up on end, zigzag in lacets each more hair- +raising than the last, or fill to demoralization with +loose boulders and shale. A fall on the part of your +horse would mean a more than serious accident; but +Western horses do not fall. The major premise stands: +even the casual tourist has no real reason for fear, +however scared he may become. + +Our favorite route to the main ridge was by a way +called the Cold Spring Trail. We used to enjoy +taking visitors up it, mainly because you come on +the top suddenly, without warning. Then we collected +remarks. Everybody, even the most stolid, +said something. + +You rode three miles on the flat, two in the leafy +and gradually ascending creek-bed of a canon, a half + +hour of laboring steepness in the overarching mountain +lilac and laurel. There you came to a great rock +gateway which seemed the top of the world. At the +gateway was a Bad Place where the ponies planted +warily their little hoofs, and the visitor played "eyes +front," and besought that his mount should not +stumble. + +Beyond the gateway a lush level canon into which +you plunged as into a bath; then again the laboring +trail, up and always up toward the blue California +sky, out of the lilacs, and laurels, and redwood +chaparral into the manzanita, the Spanish bayonet, the +creamy yucca, and the fine angular shale of the +upper regions. Beyond the apparent summit you +found always other summits yet to be climbed. And +all at once, like thrusting your shoulders out of a +hatchway, you looked over the top. + +Then came the remarks. Some swore softly; some +uttered appreciative ejaculation; some shouted aloud; +some gasped; one man uttered three times the word +"Oh,"--once breathlessly, Oh! once in awakening +appreciation, OH! once in wild enthusiasm, OH! +Then invariably they fell silent and looked. + +For the ridge, ascending from seaward in a gradual +coquetry of foot-hills, broad low ranges, cross-systems, +canons, little flats, and gentle ravines, inland +dropped off almost sheer to the river below. And +from under your very feet rose, range after range, tier +after tier, rank after rank, in increasing crescendo of +wonderful tinted mountains to the main crest of the +Coast Ranges, the blue distance, the mightiness of +California's western systems. The eye followed them +up and up, and farther and farther, with the accumulating +emotion of a wild rush on a toboggan. There +came a point where the fact grew to be almost too +big for the appreciation, just as beyond a certain +point speed seems to become unbearable. It left you +breathless, wonder-stricken, awed. You could do +nothing but look, and look, and look again, tongue- +tied by the impossibility of doing justice to what you +felt. And in the far distance, finally, your soul, grown +big in a moment, came to rest on the great precipices +and pines of the greatest mountains of all, close under +the sky. + +In a little, after the change had come to you, a +change definite and enduring, which left your inner +processes forever different from what they had been, +you turned sharp to the west and rode five miles +along the knife-edge Ridge Trail to where Rattlesnake +Canon led you down and back to your accustomed +environment. + +To the left as you rode you saw, far on the horizon, +rising to the height of your eye, the mountains +of the channel islands. Then the deep sapphire of +the Pacific, fringed with the soft, unchanging white +of the surf and the yellow of the shore. Then the +town like a little map, and the lush greens of the +wide meadows, the fruit-groves, the lesser ranges-- +all vivid, fertile, brilliant, and pulsating with vitality. +You filled your senses with it, steeped them in the +beauty of it. And at once, by a mere turn of the +eyes, from the almost crude insistence of the bright +primary color of life, you faced the tenuous azures +of distance, the delicate mauves and amethysts, the +lilacs and saffrons of the arid country. + +This was the wonder we never tired of seeing for +ourselves, of showing to others. And often, +academically, perhaps a little wistfully, as one talks of +something to be dreamed of but never enjoyed, we +spoke of how fine it would be to ride down into that +land of mystery and enchantment, to penetrate one +after another the canons dimly outlined in the shadows +cast by the westering sun, to cross the mountains +lying outspread in easy grasp of the eye, to gain the +distant blue Ridge, and see with our own eyes what +lay beyond. + +For to its other attractions the prospect added that +of impossibility, of unattainableness. These rides of +ours were day rides. We had to get home by nightfall. +Our horses had to be fed, ourselves to be housed. +We had not time to continue on down the other side +whither the trail led. At the very and literal brink +of achievement we were forced to turn back. + +Gradually the idea possessed us. We promised +ourselves that some day we would explore. In our +after-dinner smokes we spoke of it. Occasionally, +from some hunter or forest-ranger, we gained little +items of information, we learned the fascination of +musical names--Mono Canon, Patrera Don Victor, +Lloma Paloma, Patrera Madulce, Cuyamas, became +familiar to us as syllables. We desired mightily to +body them forth to ourselves as facts. The extent +of our mental vision expanded. We heard of other +mountains far beyond these farthest--mountains +whose almost unexplored vastnesses contained great +forests, mighty valleys, strong water-courses, beautiful +hanging-meadows, deep canons of granite, eternal +snows,--mountains so extended, so wonderful, that +their secrets offered whole summers of solitary +exploration. We came to feel their marvel, we came +to respect the inferno of the Desert that hemmed +them in. Shortly we graduated from the indefiniteness +of railroad maps to the intricacies of geological +survey charts. The fever was on us. We must go. + +A dozen of us desired. Three of us went; and +of the manner of our going, and what you must +know who would do likewise, I shall try here to +tell. + + + +II + +ON EQUIPMENT + +If you would travel far in the great mountains +where the trails are few and bad, you will need +a certain unique experience and skill. Before you +dare venture forth without a guide, you must be able +to do a number of things, and to do them well. + +First and foremost of all, you must be possessed +of that strange sixth sense best described as the sense +of direction. By it you always know about where +you are. It is to some degree a memory for back- +tracks and landmarks, but to a greater extent an +instinct for the lay of the country, for relative +bearings, by which you are able to make your way +across-lots back to your starting-place. It is not an +uncommon faculty, yet some lack it utterly. If you +are one of the latter class, do not venture, for you +will get lost as sure as shooting, and being lost in +the mountains is no joke. + +Some men possess it; others do not. The distinction +seems to be almost arbitrary. It can be largely +developed, but only in those with whom original +endowment of the faculty makes development possible. +No matter how long a direction-blind man +frequents the wilderness, he is never sure of himself. +Nor is the lack any reflection on the intelligence. I +once traveled in the Black Hills with a young fellow +who himself frankly confessed that after much +experiment he had come to the conclusion he could +not "find himself." He asked me to keep near him, +and this I did as well as I could; but even then, +three times during the course of ten days he lost +himself completely in the tumultuous upheavals and +canons of that badly mixed region. Another, an old +grouse-hunter, walked twice in a circle within the +confines of a thick swamp about two miles square. +On the other hand, many exhibit almost marvelous +skill in striking a bee-line for their objective point, +and can always tell you, even after an engrossing and +wandering hunt, exactly where camp lies. And I +know nothing more discouraging than to look up +after a long hard day to find your landmarks changed +in appearance, your choice widened to at least five +diverging and similar canons, your pockets empty +of food, and the chill mountain twilight descending. + +Analogous to this is the ability to follow a dim +trail. A trail in the mountains often means merely a +way through, a route picked out by some prospector, +and followed since at long intervals by chance travelers. + +It may, moreover, mean the only way through. +Missing it will bring you to ever-narrowing ledges, +until at last you end at a precipice, and there is no +room to turn your horses around for the return. Some +of the great box canons thousands of feet deep are +practicable by but one passage,--and that steep and +ingenious in its utilization of ledges, crevices, little +ravines, and "hog's-backs"; and when the only +indications to follow consist of the dim vestiges left by +your last predecessor, perhaps years before, the affair +becomes one of considerable skill and experience. +You must be able to pick out scratches made by +shod hoofs on the granite, depressions almost filled +in by the subsequent fall of decayed vegetation, +excoriations on fallen trees. You must have the sense +to know AT ONCE when you have overrun these indications, +and the patience to turn back immediately to +your last certainty, there to pick up the next clue, +even if it should take you the rest of the day. In +short, it is absolutely necessary that you be at least +a persistent tracker. + +Parenthetically; having found the trail, be charitable. +Blaze it, if there are trees; otherwise "monument" +it by piling rocks on top of one another. Thus will +those who come after bless your unknown shade. + +Third, you must know horses. I do not mean that +you should be a horse-show man, with a knowledge +of points and pedigrees. But you must learn exactly +what they can and cannot do in the matters of carrying +weights, making distance, enduring without deterioration +hard climbs in high altitudes; what they can or cannot +get over in the way of bad places. This last is not +always a matter of appearance merely. Some bits of trail, +seeming impassable to anything but a goat, a Western +horse will negotiate easily; while others, not +particularly terrifying in appearance, offer +complications of abrupt turn or a single bit of unstable, +leg-breaking footing which renders them exceedingly +dangerous. You must, moreover, be able to manage your +animals to the best advantage in such bad places. Of +course you must in the beginning have been wise as to +the selection of the horses. + +Fourth, you must know good horse-feed when +you see it. Your animals are depending entirely on +the country; for of course you are carrying no dry +feed for them. Their pasturage will present itself +under a variety of aspects, all of which you must +recognize with certainty. Some of the greenest, +lushest, most satisfying-looking meadows grow nothing +but water-grasses of large bulk but small nutrition; +while apparently barren tracts often conceal small but +strong growths of great value. You must differentiate these. + +Fifth, you must possess the ability to pare a hoof, +fit a shoe cold, nail it in place. A bare hoof does not +last long on the granite, and you are far from the +nearest blacksmith. Directly in line with this, you +must have the trick of picking up and holding a +hoof without being kicked, and you must be able to +throw and tie without injuring him any horse that +declines to be shod in any other way. + +Last, you must of course be able to pack a horse +well, and must know four or five of the most essential +pack-"hitches." + +With this personal equipment you ought to be +able to get through the country. It comprises the +absolutely essential. + +But further, for the sake of the highest efficiency, +you should add, as finish to your mountaineer's +education, certain other items. A knowledge of the +habits of deer and the ability to catch trout with fair +certainty are almost a necessity when far from the base +of supplies. Occasionally the trail goes to pieces +entirely: there you must know something of the +handling of an axe and pick. Learn how to swim a +horse. You will have to take lessons in camp-fire +cookery. Otherwise employ a guide. Of course +your lungs, heart, and legs must be in good condition. + +As to outfit, certain especial conditions will +differentiate your needs from those of forest and canoe +travel. + +You will in the changing altitudes be exposed to +greater variations in temperature. At morning you +may travel in the hot arid foot-hills; at noon you will +be in the cool shades of the big pines; towards +evening you may wallow through snowdrifts; and at +dark you may camp where morning will show you +icicles hanging from the brinks of little waterfalls. +Behind your saddle you will want to carry a sweater, +or better still a buckskin waistcoat. Your arms are +never cold anyway, and the pockets of such a waistcoat, +made many and deep, are handy receptacles for +smokables, matches, cartridges, and the like. For the +night-time, when the cold creeps down from the high +peaks, you should provide yourself with a suit of +very heavy underwear and an extra sweater or a +buckskin shirt. The latter is lighter, softer, and more +impervious to the wind than the sweater. Here +again I wish to place myself on record as opposed to +a coat. It is a useless ornament, assumed but rarely, +and then only as substitute for a handier garment. + +Inasmuch as you will be a great deal called on to +handle abrading and sometimes frozen ropes, you +will want a pair of heavy buckskin gauntlets. An +extra pair of stout high-laced boots with small +Hungarian hob-nails will come handy. It is marvelous +how quickly leather wears out in the downhill friction +of granite and shale. I once found the heels of +a new pair of shoes almost ground away by a single +giant-strides descent of a steep shale-covered thirteen- +thousand-foot mountain. Having no others I patched +them with hair-covered rawhide and a bit of horseshoe. +It sufficed, but was a long and disagreeable +job which an extra pair would have obviated. + +Balsam is practically unknown in the high hills, +and the rocks are especially hard. Therefore you will +take, in addition to your gray army-blanket, a thick +quilt or comforter to save your bones. This, with +your saddle-blankets and pads as foundation, should +give you ease--if you are tough. Otherwise take a +second quilt. + +A tarpaulin of heavy canvas 17 x 6 feet goes under +you, and can be, if necessary, drawn up to cover your +head. We never used a tent. Since you do not have +to pack your outfit on your own back, you can, if you +choose, include a small pillow. Your other personal +belongings are those you would carry into the Forest. +I have elsewhere described what they should be. + +Now as to the equipment for your horses. + +The most important point for yourself is your riding- +saddle. The cowboy or military style and seat are +the only practicable ones. Perhaps of these two the +cowboy saddle is the better, for the simple reason that +often in roping or leading a refractory horse, the horn +is a great help. For steep-trail work the double cinch +is preferable to the single, as it need not be pulled so +tight to hold the saddle in place. + +Your riding-bridle you will make of an ordinary +halter by riveting two snaps to the lower part of the +head-piece just above the corners of the horse's mouth. +These are snapped into the rings of the bit. At night +you unsnap the bit, remove it and the reins, and leave +the halter part on the horse. Each animal, riding and +packing, has furthermore a short lead-rope attached +always to his halter-ring. + +Of pack-saddles the ordinary sawbuck tree is by all +odds the best, provided it fits. It rarely does. If you +can adjust the wood accurately to the anatomy of the +individual horse, so that the side pieces bear evenly +and smoothly without gouging the withers or chafing +the back, you are possessed of the handiest machine +made for the purpose. Should individual fitting prove +impracticable, get an old LOW California riding-tree +and have a blacksmith bolt an upright spike on the +cantle. You can hang the loops of the kyacks or +alforjas--the sacks slung on either side the horse +--from the pommel and this iron spike. Whatever +the saddle chosen, it should be supplied with breast- +straps, breeching, and two good cinches. + +The kyacks or alforjas just mentioned are made +either of heavy canvas, or of rawhide shaped square +and dried over boxes. After drying, the boxes are +removed, leaving the stiff rawhide like small trunks +open at the top. I prefer the canvas, for the reason +that they can be folded and packed for railroad +transportation. If a stiffer receptacle is wanted for +miscellaneous loose small articles, you can insert a soap-box +inside the canvas. It cannot be denied that the rawhide +will stand rougher usage. + +Probably the point now of greatest importance is +that of saddle-padding. A sore back is the easiest +thing in the world to induce,--three hours' chafing +will turn the trick,--and once it is done you are in +trouble for a month. No precautions or pains are too +great to take in assuring your pack-animals against +this. On a pinch you will give up cheerfully part +of your bedding to the cause. However, two good- +quality woolen blankets properly and smoothly +folded, a pad made of two ordinary collar-pads sewed +parallel by means of canvas strips in such a manner +as to lie along both sides of the backbone, a well-fitted +saddle, and care in packing will nearly always suffice. +I have gone months without having to doctor a single +abrasion. + +You will furthermore want a pack-cinch and a +pack-rope for each horse. The former are of canvas +or webbing provided with a ring at one end and a +big bolted wooden hook at the other. The latter +should be half-inch lines of good quality. Thirty-three +feet is enough for packing only; but we usually +bought them forty feet long, so they could be used +also as picket-ropes. Do not fail to include several +extra. They are always fraying out, getting broken, +being cut to free a fallen horse, or becoming lost. + +Besides the picket-ropes, you will also provide for +each horse a pair of strong hobbles. Take them to +a harness-maker and have him sew inside each ankle- +band a broad strip of soft wash-leather twice the width +of the band. This will save much chafing. Some advocate +sheepskin with the wool on, but this I have found +tends to soak up water or to freeze hard. At least +two loud cow-bells with neck-straps are handy to +assist you in locating whither the bunch may have +strayed during the night. They should be hung on +the loose horses most inclined to wander. + +Accidents are common in the hills. The repair-kit +is normally rather comprehensive. Buy a number of +extra latigos, or cinch-straps. Include many copper +rivets of all sizes--they are the best quick-repair +known for almost everything, from putting together +a smashed pack-saddle to cobbling a worn-out boot. +Your horseshoeing outfit should be complete with +paring-knife, rasp, nail-set, clippers, hammer, nails, +and shoes. The latter will be the malleable soft iron, +low-calked "Goodenough," which can be fitted cold. +Purchase a dozen front shoes and a dozen and a half +hind shoes. The latter wear out faster on the trail. +A box or so of hob-nails for your own boots, a waxed +end and awl, a whetstone, a file, and a piece of buckskin +for strings and patches complete the list. + +Thus equipped, with your grub supply, your cooking- +utensils, your personal effects, your rifle and your +fishing-tackle, you should be able to go anywhere +that man and horses can go, entirely self-reliant, +independent of the towns. + + + +III + +ON HORSES + +I really believe that you will find more variation +of individual and interesting character +in a given number of Western horses than in an +equal number of the average men one meets on the +street. Their whole education, from the time they +run loose on the range until the time when, branded, +corralled, broken, and saddled, they pick their way +under guidance over a bad piece of trail, tends to +develop their self-reliance. They learn to think for +themselves. + +To begin with two misconceptions, merely by way +of clearing the ground: the Western horse is generally +designated as a "bronco." The term is considered +synonymous of horse or pony. This is not so. +A horse is "bronco" when he is ugly or mean or +vicious or unbroken. So is a cow "bronco" in the +same condition, or a mule, or a burro. Again, from +certain Western illustrators and from a few samples, +our notion of the cow-pony has become that of a lean, +rangy, wiry, thin-necked, scrawny beast. Such may +be found. But the average good cow-pony is apt +to be an exceedingly handsome animal, clean-built, +graceful. This is natural, when you stop to think of +it, for he is descended direct from Moorish and Arabian +stock. + +Certain characteristics he possesses beyond the +capabilities of the ordinary horse. The most marvelous +to me of these is his sure-footedness. Let me give +you a few examples. + +I once was engaged with a crew of cowboys in +rounding up mustangs in southern Arizona. We would +ride slowly in through the hills until we caught sight +of the herds. Then it was a case of running them +down and heading them off, of turning the herd, +milling it, of rushing it while confused across country +and into the big corrals. The surface of the ground +was composed of angular volcanic rocks about the +size of your two fists, between which the bunch-grass +sprouted. An Eastern rider would ride his horse very +gingerly and at a walk, and then thank his lucky +stars if he escaped stumbles. The cowboys turned +their mounts through at a dead run. It was beautiful +to see the ponies go, lifting their feet well up and +over, planting them surely and firmly, and nevertheless +making speed and attending to the game. Once, +when we had pushed the herd up the slope of a +butte, it made a break to get through a little hog- +back. The only way to head it was down a series of +rough boulder ledges laid over a great sheet of +volcanic rock. The man at the hog-back put his little +gray over the ledges and boulders, down the sheet of +rock,--hop, slip, slide,--and along the side hill in +time to head off the first of the mustangs. During the +ten days of riding I saw no horse fall. The animal +I rode, Button by name, never even stumbled. + +In the Black Hills years ago I happened to be one +of the inmates of a small mining-camp. Each night +the work-animals, after being fed, were turned loose +in the mountains. As I possessed the only cow-pony +in the outfit, he was fed in the corral, and kept up +for the purpose of rounding up the others. Every +morning one of us used to ride him out after the +herd. Often it was necessary to run him at full speed +along the mountain-side, over rocks, boulders, and +ledges, across ravines and gullies. Never but once in +three months did he fall. + +On the trail, too, they will perform feats little short +of marvelous. Mere steepness does not bother them +at all. They sit back almost on their haunches, bunch +their feet together, and slide. I have seen them go +down a hundred feet this way. In rough country +they place their feet accurately and quickly, gauge +exactly the proper balance. I have led my saddle- +horse, Bullet, over country where, undoubtedly to +his intense disgust, I myself have fallen a dozen times +in the course of a morning. Bullet had no such +troubles. Any of the mountain horses will hop cheerfully +up or down ledges anywhere. They will even walk +a log fifteen or twenty feet above a stream. I have +seen the same trick performed in Barnum's circus as +a wonderful feat, accompanied by brass bands and +breathlessness. We accomplished it on our trip with +out any brass bands; I cannot answer for the breathlessness. +As for steadiness of nerve, they will walk +serenely on the edge of precipices a man would hate +to look over, and given a palm's breadth for the soles +of their feet, they will get through. Over such a place +I should a lot rather trust Bullet than myself. + +In an emergency the Western horse is not apt to +lose his head. When a pack-horse falls down, he lies +still without struggle until eased of his pack and told +to get up. If he slips off an edge, he tries to double +his fore legs under him and slide. Should he find +himself in a tight place, he waits patiently for you to +help him, and then proceeds gingerly. A friend of +mine rode a horse named Blue. One day, the trail +being slippery with rain, he slid and fell. My friend +managed a successful jump, but Blue tumbled about +thirty feet to the bed of the canon. Fortunately he +was not injured. After some difficulty my friend +managed to force his way through the chaparral to +where Blue stood. Then it was fine to see them. +My friend would go ahead a few feet, picking a route. +When he had made his decision, he called Blue. Blue +came that far, and no farther. Several times the little +horse balanced painfully and unsteadily like a goat, +all four feet on a boulder, waiting for his signal to +advance. In this manner they regained the trail, and +proceeded as though nothing had happened. Instances +could be multiplied indefinitely. + +A good animal adapts himself quickly. He is +capable of learning by experience. In a country +entirely new to him he soon discovers the best method +of getting about, where the feed grows, where he can +find water. He is accustomed to foraging for himself. +You do not need to show him his pasturage. +If there is anything to eat anywhere in the district he +will find it. Little tufts of bunch-grass growing +concealed under the edges of the brush, he will search out. +If he cannot get grass, he knows how to rustle for the +browse of small bushes. Bullet would devour sage- +brush, when he could get nothing else; and I have +even known him philosophically to fill up on dry +pine-needles. There is no nutrition in dry pine- +needles, but Bullet got a satisfyingly full belly. On the +trail a well-seasoned horse will be always on the forage, +snatching here a mouthful, yonder a single spear of +grass, and all without breaking the regularity of his +gait, or delaying the pack-train behind him. At the +end of the day's travel he is that much to the good. + +By long observation thus you will construct your +ideal of the mountain horse, and in your selection +of your animals for an expedition you will search +always for that ideal. It is only too apt to be +modified by personal idiosyncrasies, and proverbially an +ideal is difficult of attainment; but you will, with +care, come closer to its realization than one accustomed +only to the conventionality of an artificially +reared horse would believe possible. + +The ideal mountain horse, when you come to pick +him out, is of medium size. He should be not +smaller than fourteen hands nor larger than fifteen. +He is strongly but not clumsily built, short-coupled, +with none of the snipy speedy range of the valley +animal. You will select preferably one of wide full +forehead, indicating intelligence, low in the withers, +so the saddle will not be apt to gall him. His sureness +of foot should be beyond question, and of course +he must be an expert at foraging. A horse that knows +but one or two kinds of feed, and that starves unless +he can find just those kinds, is an abomination. He +must not jump when you throw all kinds of rattling +and terrifying tarpaulins across him, and he must not +mind if the pack-ropes fall about his heels. In the +day's march he must follow like a dog without the +necessity of a lead-rope, nor must he stray far when +turned loose at night. + +Fortunately, when removed from the reassuring +environment of civilization, horses are gregarious. +They hate to be separated from the bunch to which +they are accustomed. Occasionally one of us would +stop on the trail, for some reason or another, thus +dropping behind the pack-train. Instantly the saddle- +horse so detained would begin to grow uneasy. Bullet +used by all means in his power to try to induce me +to proceed. He would nibble me with his lips, paw +the ground, dance in a circle, and finally sidle up to +me in the position of being mounted, than which he +could think of no stronger hint. Then when I had +finally remounted, it was hard to hold him in. He +would whinny frantically, scramble with enthusiasm +up trails steep enough to draw a protest at ordinary +times, and rejoin his companions with every symptom +of gratification and delight. This gregariousness and +alarm at being left alone in a strange country tends to +hold them together at night. You are reasonably +certain that in the morning, having found one, you will +come upon the rest not far away. + +The personnel of our own outfit we found most +interesting. Although collected from divergent +localities they soon became acquainted. In a crowded +corral they were always compact in their organization, +sticking close together, and resisting as a solid phalanx +encroachments on their feed by other and stranger +horses. Their internal organization was very amusing. +A certain segregation soon took place. Some became +leaders; others by common consent were relegated to +the position of subordinates. + +The order of precedence on the trail was rigidly +preserved by the pack-horses. An attempt by Buckshot +to pass Dinkey, for example, the latter always +met with a bite or a kick by way of hint. If the +gelding still persisted, and tried to pass by a long +detour, the mare would rush out at him angrily, her +ears back, her eyes flashing, her neck extended. And +since Buckshot was by no means inclined always to +give in meekly, we had opportunities for plenty +of amusement. The two were always skirmishing. +When by a strategic short cut across the angle of +a trail Buckshot succeeded in stealing a march on +Dinkey, while she was nipping a mouthful, his triumph +was beautiful to see. He never held the place +for long, however. Dinkey's was the leadership by +force of ambition and energetic character, and at the +head of the pack-train she normally marched. + +Yet there were hours when utter indifference +seemed to fall on the militant spirits. They trailed +peacefully and amiably in the rear while Lily or Jenny +marched with pride in the coveted advance. But the +place was theirs only by sufferance. A bite or a kick +sent them back to their own positions when the true +leaders grew tired of their vacation. + +However rigid this order of precedence, the saddle- +animals were acknowledged as privileged;--and +knew it. They could go where they pleased. Furthermore +theirs was the duty of correcting infractions +of the trail discipline, such as grazing on the march, +or attempting unauthorized short cuts. They appreciated +this duty. Bullet always became vastly indignant +if one of the pack-horses misbehaved. He would +run at the offender angrily, hustle him to his place with +savage nips of his teeth, and drop back to his own +position with a comical air of virtue. Once in a great +while it would happen that on my spurring up from +the rear of the column I would be mistaken for one +of the pack-horses attempting illegally to get ahead. +Immediately Dinkey or Buckshot would snake his +head out crossly to turn me to the rear. It was really +ridiculous to see the expression of apology with which +they would take it all back, and the ostentatious, +nose-elevated indifference in Bullet's very gait as he +marched haughtily by. So rigid did all the animals +hold this convention that actually in the San Joaquin +Valley Dinkey once attempted to head off a Southern +Pacific train. She ran at full speed diagonally +toward it, her eyes striking fire, her ears back, her +teeth snapping in rage because the locomotive would +not keep its place behind her ladyship. + +Let me make you acquainted with our outfit. + +I rode, as you have gathered, an Arizona pony +named Bullet. He was a handsome fellow with a +chestnut brown coat, long mane and tail, and a +beautiful pair of brown eyes. Wes always called him +"Baby." He was in fact the youngster of the party, +with all the engaging qualities of youth. I never saw +a horse more willing. He wanted to do what you +wanted him to; it pleased him, and gave him a +warm consciousness of virtue which the least observant +could not fail to remark. When leading he +walked industriously ahead, setting the pace; when +driving,--that is, closing up the rear,--he attended +strictly to business. Not for the most luscious bunch +of grass that ever grew would he pause even for an +instant. Yet in his off hours, when I rode irresponsibly +somewhere in the middle, he was a great hand +to forage. Few choice morsels escaped him. He +confided absolutely in his rider in the matter of bad +country, and would tackle anything I would put him +at. It seemed that he trusted me not to put him at +anything that would hurt him. This was an invaluable +trait when an example had to be set to the reluctance +of the other horses. He was a great swimmer. +Probably the most winning quality of his nature was +his extreme friendliness. He was always wandering +into camp to be petted, nibbling me over with his +lips, begging to have his forehead rubbed, thrusting +his nose under an elbow, and otherwise telling how +much he thought of us. Whoever broke him did a +good job. I never rode a better-reined horse. A mere +indication of the bridle-hand turned him to right or +left, and a mere raising of the hand without the +slightest pressure on the bit stopped him short. And how +well he understood cow-work! Turn him loose after +the bunch, and he would do the rest. All I had to do +was to stick to him. That in itself was no mean task, +for he turned like a flash, and was quick as a cat on +his feet. At night I always let him go foot free. +He would be there in the morning, and I could always +walk directly up to him with the bridle in plain +sight in my hand. Even at a feedless camp we once +made where we had shot a couple of deer, he did +not attempt to wander off in search of pasture, as +would most horses. He nosed around unsuccessfully +until pitch dark, then came into camp, and with great +philosophy stood tail to the fire until morning. I +could always jump off anywhere for a shot, without +even the necessity of "tying him to the ground," by +throwing the reins over his head. He would wait for +me, although he was never overfond of firearms. + +Nevertheless Bullet had his own sense of dignity. +He was literally as gentle as a kitten, but he drew a +line. I shall never forget how once, being possessed +of a desire to find out whether we could swim our +outfit across a certain stretch of the Merced River, I +climbed him bareback. He bucked me off so quickly +that I never even got settled on his back. Then he +gazed at me with sorrow, while, laughing irrepressibly +at this unusual assertion of independent ideas, +I picked myself out of a wild-rose bush. He did not +attempt to run away from me, but stood to be saddled, +and plunged boldly into the swift water where +I told him to. Merely he thought it disrespectful in +me to ride him without his proper harness. He was +the pet of the camp. + +As near as I could make out, he had but one fault. +He was altogether too sensitive about his hind quarters, +and would jump like a rabbit if anything touched +him there. + +Wes rode a horse we called Old Slob. Wes, be +it premised, was an interesting companion. He had +done everything,--seal-hunting, abalone-gathering, +boar-hunting, all kinds of shooting, cow-punching +in the rough Coast Ranges, and all other queer and +outlandish and picturesque vocations by which a +man can make a living. He weighed two hundred +and twelve pounds and was the best game shot with +a rifle I ever saw. + +As you may imagine, Old Slob was a stocky +individual. He was built from the ground up. His +disposition was quiet, slow, honest. Above all, he +gave the impression of vast, very vast experience. +Never did he hurry his mental processes, although +he was quick enough in his movements if need arose. +He quite declined to worry about anything. Consequently, +in spite of the fact that he carried by far the +heaviest man in the company, he stayed always fat +and in good condition. There was something almost +pathetic in Old Slob's willingness to go on working, +even when more work seemed like an imposition. +You could not fail to fall in love with his mild +inquiring gentle eyes, and his utter trust in the +goodness of human nature. His only fault was an excess +of caution. Old Slob was very very experienced. He +knew all about trails, and he declined to be hurried +over what he considered a bad place. Wes used +sometimes to disagree with him as to what constituted +a bad place. "Some day you're going to take +a tumble, you old fool," Wes used to address him, +"if you go on fiddling down steep rocks with your +little old monkey work. Why don't you step out?" +Only Old Slob never did take a tumble. He was +willing to do anything for you, even to the assuming +of a pack. This is considered by a saddle-animal +distinctly as a come-down. + +The Tenderfoot, by the irony of fate, drew a +tenderfoot horse. Tunemah was a big fool gray that +was constitutionally rattle-brained. He meant well +enough, but he didn't know anything. When he +came to a bad place in the trail, he took one good +look--and rushed it. Constantly we expected him +to come to grief. It wore on the Tenderfoot's nerves. +Tunemah was always trying to wander off the trail, +trying fool routes of his own invention. If he were +sent ahead to set the pace, he lagged and loitered and +constantly looked back, worried lest he get too far in +advance and so lose the bunch. If put at the rear, he +fretted against the bit, trying to push on at a senseless +speed. In spite of his extreme anxiety to stay with +the train, he would once in a blue moon get a strange +idea of wandering off solitary through the mountains, +passing good feed, good water, good shelter. We +would find him, after a greater or less period of difficult +tracking, perched in a silly fashion on some elevation. +Heaven knows what his idea was: it certainly +was neither search for feed, escape, return whence he +came, nor desire for exercise. When we came up +with him, he would gaze mildly at us from a foolish +vacant eye and follow us peaceably back to camp. +Like most weak and silly people, he had occasional +stubborn fits when you could beat him to a pulp +without persuading him. He was one of the type +already mentioned that knows but two or three kinds +of feed. As time went on he became thinner and +thinner. The other horses prospered, but Tunemah +failed. He actually did not know enough to take +care of himself; and could not learn. Finally, when +about two months out, we traded him at a cow-camp +for a little buckskin called Monache. + +So much for the saddle-horses. The pack-animals +were four. + +A study of Dinkey's character and an experience +of her characteristics always left me with mingled +feelings. At times I was inclined to think her +perfection: at other times thirty cents would have been +esteemed by me as a liberal offer for her. To enumerate +her good points: she was an excellent weight- +carrier; took good care of her pack that it never +scraped nor bumped; knew all about trails, the +possibilities of short cuts, the best way of easing herself +downhill; kept fat and healthy in districts where +grew next to no feed at all; was past-mistress in the +picking of routes through a trailless country. Her +endurance was marvelous; her intelligence equally +so. In fact too great intelligence perhaps accounted +for most of her defects. She thought too much for +herself; she made up opinions about people; she +speculated on just how far each member of the party, +man or beast, would stand imposition, and tried +conclusions with each to test the accuracy of her +speculations; she obstinately insisted on her own way in +going up and down hill,--a way well enough for +Dinkey, perhaps, but hazardous to the other less skillful +animals who naturally would follow her lead. If +she did condescend to do things according to your +ideas, it was with a mental reservation. You caught +her sardonic eye fixed on you contemptuously. You +felt at once that she knew another method, a much +better method, with which yours compared most +unfavorably. "I'd like to kick you in the stomach," +Wes used to say; "you know too much for a horse!" + +If one of the horses bucked under the pack, Dinkey +deliberately tried to stampede the others--and +generally succeeded. She invariably led them off +whenever she could escape her picket-rope. In +case of trouble of any sort, instead of standing still +sensibly, she pretended to be subject to wild-eyed +panics. It was all pretense, for when you DID yield to +temptation and light into her with the toe of your +boot, she subsided into common sense. The spirit of +malevolent mischief was hers. + +Her performances when she was being packed +were ridiculously histrionic. As soon as the saddle +was cinched, she spread her legs apart, bracing them +firmly as though about to receive the weight of an +iron safe. Then as each article of the pack was thrown +across her back, she flinched and uttered the most +heart-rending groans. We used sometimes to amuse +ourselves by adding merely an empty sack, or +other article quite without weight. The groans and +tremblings of the braced legs were quite as pitiful +as though we had piled on a sack of flour. Dinkey, +I had forgotten to state, was a white horse, and +belonged to Wes. + +Jenny also was white and belonged to Wes. Her +chief characteristic was her devotion to Dinkey. She +worshiped Dinkey, and seconded her enthusiastically. +Without near the originality of Dinkey, she was yet +a very good and sure pack-horse. The deceiving +part about Jenny was her eye. It was baleful with +the spirit of evil,--snaky and black, and with green +sideways gleams in it. Catching the flash of it, you +would forever after avoid getting in range of her +heels or teeth. But it was all a delusion. Jenny's +disposition was mild and harmless. + +The third member of the pack-outfit we bought at +an auction sale in rather a peculiar manner. About +sixty head of Arizona horses of the C. A. Bar outfit +were being sold. Toward the close of the afternoon +they brought out a well-built stocky buckskin of +first-rate appearance except that his left flank was +ornamented with five different brands. The auctioneer +called attention to him. + +"Here is a first-rate all-round horse," said he. +"He is sound; will ride, work, or pack; perfectly +broken, mild, and gentle. He would make a first-rate +family horse, for he has a kind disposition." + +The official rider put a saddle on him to give him +a demonstrating turn around the track. Then that +mild, gentle, perfectly broken family horse of kind +disposition gave about as pretty an exhibition of +barbed-wire bucking as you would want to see. Even +the auctioneer had to join in the wild shriek of delight +that went up from the crowd. He could not get a +bid, and I bought the animal in later very cheaply. + +As I had suspected, the trouble turned out to be +merely exuberance or nervousness before a crowd. +He bucked once with me under the saddle; and twice +subsequently under a pack,--that was all. Buckshot +was the best pack-horse we had. Bar an occasional +saunter into the brush when he got tired of the trail, +we had no fault to find with him. He carried a heavy +pack, was as sure-footed as Bullet, as sagacious on +the trail as Dinkey, and he always attended strictly +to his own business. Moreover he knew that business +thoroughly, knew what should be expected of him, +accomplished it well and quietly. His disposition +was dignified but lovable. As long as you treated +him well, he was as gentle as you could ask. But +once let Buckshot get it into his head that he was +being imposed on, or once let him see that your +temper had betrayed you into striking him when +he thought he did not deserve it, and he cut loose +vigorously and emphatically with his heels. He +declined to be abused. + +There remains but Lily. I don't know just how +to do justice to Lily--the "Lily maid." We named +her that because she looked it. Her color was a pure +white, her eye was virginal and silly, her long bang +strayed in wanton carelessness across her face and +eyes, her expression was foolish, and her legs were +long and rangy. She had the general appearance of +an overgrown school-girl too big for short dresses and +too young for long gowns;--a school-girl named +Flossie, or Mamie, or Lily. So we named her that. + +At first hers was the attitude of the timid and +shrinking tenderfoot. She stood in awe of her +companions; she appreciated her lack of experience. +Humbly she took the rear; slavishly she copied the +other horses; closely she clung to camp. Then in a +few weeks, like most tenderfeet, she came to think +that her short experience had taught her everything +there was to know. She put on airs. She became +too cocky and conceited for words. + +Everything she did was exaggerated, overdone. +She assumed her pack with an air that plainly said, +"Just see what a good horse am I!" She started out +three seconds before the others in a manner intended +to shame their procrastinating ways. Invariably she +was the last to rest, and the first to start on again. +She climbed over-vigorously, with the manner of +conscious rectitude. "Acts like she was trying to +get her wages raised," said Wes. + +In this manner she wore herself down. If +permitted she would have climbed until winded, and +then would probably have fallen off somewhere for +lack of strength. Where the other horses watched the +movements of those ahead, in order that when a halt +for rest was called they might stop at an easy place on +the trail, Lily would climb on until jammed against +the animal immediately preceding her. Thus often +she found herself forced to cling desperately to +extremely bad footing until the others were ready to +proceed. Altogether she was a precious nuisance, that +acted busily but without thinking. + +Two virtues she did possess. She was a glutton +for work; and she could fall far and hard without +injuring herself. This was lucky, for she was always +falling. Several times we went down to her fully +expecting to find her dead or so crippled that she would +have to be shot. The loss of a little skin was her only +injury. She got to be quite philosophic about it. On +losing her balance she would tumble peaceably, and +then would lie back with an air of luxury, her eyes +closed, while we worked to free her. When we had +loosened the pack, Wes would twist her tail. Thereupon +she would open one eye inquiringly as though +to say, "Hullo! Done already?" Then leisurely +she would arise and shake herself. + + + +IV + +ON HOW TO GO ABOUT IT + +One truth you must learn to accept, believe as +a tenet of your faith, and act upon always. It +is that your entire welfare depends on the condition +of your horses. They must, as a consequence, receive +always your first consideration. As long as they have +rest and food, you are sure of getting along; as soon +as they fail, you are reduced to difficulties. So +absolute is this truth that it has passed into an idiom. +When a Westerner wants to tell you that he lacks +a thing, he informs you he is "afoot" for it. "Give +me a fill for my pipe," he begs; "I'm plumb afoot +for tobacco." + +Consequently you think last of your own comfort. +In casting about for a place to spend the night, you +look out for good feed. That assured, all else is of +slight importance; you make the best of whatever +camping facilities may happen to be attached. If +necessary you will sleep on granite or in a marsh, +walk a mile for firewood or water, if only your +animals are well provided for. And on the trail you +often will work twice as hard as they merely to save +them a little. In whatever I may tell you regarding +practical expedients, keep this always in mind. + +As to the little details of your daily routine in the +mountains, many are worth setting down, however +trivial they may seem. They mark the difference +between the greenhorn and the old-timer; but, more +important, they mark also the difference between the +right and the wrong, the efficient and the inefficient +ways of doing things. + +In the morning the cook for the day is the first man +afoot, usually about half past four. He blows on his +fingers, casts malevolent glances at the sleepers, finally +builds his fire and starts his meal. Then he takes +fiendish delight in kicking out the others. They do not +run with glad shouts to plunge into the nearest pool, +as most camping fiction would have us believe. Not +they. The glad shout and nearest pool can wait until +noon when the sun is warm. They, too, blow on their +fingers and curse the cook for getting them up so +early. All eat breakfast and feel better. + +Now the cook smokes in lordly ease. One of the +other men washes the dishes, while his companion +goes forth to drive in the horses. Washing dishes is +bad enough, but fumbling with frozen fingers at stubborn +hobble-buckles is worse. At camp the horses are caught, +and each is tied near his own saddle and pack. + +The saddle-horses are attended to first. Thus they +are available for business in case some of the others +should make trouble. You will see that your saddle- +blankets are perfectly smooth, and so laid that the +edges are to the front where they are least likely to +roll under or wrinkle. After the saddle is in place, +lift it slightly and loosen the blanket along the back +bone so it will not draw down tight under the weight +of the rider. Next hang your rifle-scabbard under +your left leg. It should be slanted along the horse's +side at such an angle that neither will the muzzle +interfere with the animal's hind leg, nor the butt with +your bridle-hand. This angle must be determined by +experiment. The loop in front should be attached to +the scabbard, so it can be hung over the horn; that +behind to the saddle, so the muzzle can be thrust +through it. When you come to try this method, you +will appreciate its handiness. Besides the rifle, you +will carry also your rope, camera, and a sweater or +waistcoat for changes in temperature. In your saddle +bags are pipe and tobacco, perhaps a chunk of bread, +your note-book, and the map--if there is any. Thus +your saddle-horse is outfitted. Do not forget your +collapsible rubber cup. About your waist you will wear +your cartridge-belt with six-shooter and sheath-knife. +I use a forty-five caliber belt. By threading a buck +skin thong in and out through some of the cartridge +loops, their size is sufficiently reduced to hold also the +30-40 rifle cartridges. Thus I carry ammunition for +both revolver and rifle in the one belt. The belt +should not be buckled tight about your waist, but +should hang well down on the hip. This is for two +reasons. In the first place, it does not drag so heavily +at your anatomy, and falls naturally into position when +you are mounted. In the second place, you can jerk +your gun out more easily from a loose-hanging holster. +Let your knife-sheath be so deep as almost to +cover the handle, and the knife of the very best steel +procurable. I like a thin blade. If you are a student +of animal anatomy, you can skin and quarter a deer +with nothing heavier than a pocket-knife. + +When you come to saddle the pack-horses, you +must exercise even greater care in getting the saddle- +blankets smooth and the saddle in place. There is +some give and take to a rider; but a pack carries +"dead," and gives the poor animal the full handicap +of its weight at all times. A rider dismounts in bad +or steep places; a pack stays on until the morning's +journey is ended. See to it, then, that it is on right. + +Each horse should have assigned him a definite +and, as nearly as possible, unvarying pack. Thus you +will not have to search everywhere for the things +you need. + +For example, in our own case, Lily was known as +the cook-horse. She carried all the kitchen utensils, +the fire-irons, the axe, and matches. In addition her +alforjas contained a number of little bags in which +were small quantities for immediate use of all the +different sorts of provisions we had with us. When +we made camp we unpacked her near the best place +for a fire, and everything was ready for the cook. +Jenny was a sort of supply store, for she transported +the main stock of the provisions of which Lily's little +bags contained samples. Dinkey helped out Jenny, +and in addition--since she took such good care +of her pack--was intrusted with the fishing-rods, +the shot-gun, the medicine-bag, small miscellaneous +duffle, and whatever deer or bear meat we happened +to have. Buckshot's pack consisted of things not +often used, such as all the ammunition, the horse- +shoeing outfit, repair-kit, and the like. It was rarely +disturbed at all. + +These various things were all stowed away in the +kyacks or alforjas which hung on either side. They +had to be very accurately balanced. The least difference +in weight caused one side to sag, and that in +turn chafed the saddle-tree against the animal's +withers. + +So far, so good. Next comes the affair of the top +packs. Lay your duffle-bags across the middle of the +saddle. Spread the blankets and quilts as evenly as +possible. Cover all with the canvas tarpaulin suitably +folded. Everything is now ready for the pack-rope. + +The first thing anybody asks you when it is +discovered that you know a little something of pack- +trains is, "Do you throw the Diamond Hitch?" +Now the Diamond is a pretty hitch and a firm one, +but it is by no means the fetish some people make +of it. They would have you believe that it represents +the height of the packer's art; and once having +mastered it, they use it religiously for every weight, +shape, and size of pack. The truth of the matter is +that the style of hitch should be varied according to +the use to which it is to be put. + +The Diamond is good because it holds firmly, is +a great flattener, and is especially adapted to the +securing of square boxes. It is celebrated because it +is pretty and rather difficult to learn. Also it possesses +the advantage for single-handed packing that it can +be thrown slack throughout and then tightened, and +that the last pull tightens the whole hitch. However, +for ordinary purposes, with a quiet horse and a +comparatively soft pack, the common Square Hitch holds +well enough and is quickly made. For a load of +small articles and heavy alforjas there is nothing like +the Lone Packer. It too is a bit hard to learn. Chiefly +is it valuable because the last pulls draw the alforjas +away from the horse's sides, thus preventing their +chafing him. Of the many hitches that remain, you +need learn, to complete your list for all practical +purposes, only the Bucking Hitch. It is complicated, +and takes time and patience to throw, but it is +warranted to hold your deck-load through the most +violent storms bronco ingenuity can stir up. + +These four will be enough. Learn to throw them, +and take pains always to throw them good and tight. +A loose pack is the best expedient the enemy of your +soul could possibly devise. It always turns or comes +to pieces on the edge of things; and then you will +spend the rest of the morning trailing a wildly buck- +ing horse by the burst and scattered articles of camp +duffle. It is furthermore your exhilarating task, after +you have caught him, to take stock, and spend most +of the afternoon looking for what your first search +passed by. Wes and I once hunted two hours for +as large an object as a Dutch oven. After which you +can repack. This time you will snug things down. +You should have done so in the beginning. + +Next, the lead-ropes are made fast to the top of +the packs. There is here to be learned a certain knot. +In case of trouble you can reach from your saddle +and jerk the whole thing free by a single pull on a +loose end. + +All is now ready. You take a last look around to +see that nothing has been left. One of the horsemen +starts on ahead. The pack-horses swing in behind. +We soon accustomed ours to recognize the whistling +of "Boots and Saddles" as a signal for the advance. +Another horseman brings up the rear. The day's +journey has begun. + +To one used to pleasure-riding the affair seems +almost too deliberate. The leader plods steadily, +stopping from time to time to rest on the steep slopes. +The others string out in a leisurely procession. It +does no good to hurry. The horses will of their own +accord stay in sight of one another, and constant +nagging to keep the rear closed up only worries them +without accomplishing any valuable result. In going +uphill especially, let the train take its time. Each +animal is likely to have his own ideas about when and +where to rest. If he does, respect them. See to it +merely that there is no prolonged yielding to the +temptation of meadow feed, and no careless or malicious +straying off the trail. A minute's difference in +the time of arrival does not count. Remember that +the horses are doing hard and continuous work on a +grass diet. + +The day's distance will not seem to amount to +much in actual miles, especially if, like most +Californians, you are accustomed on a fresh horse to make +an occasional sixty or seventy between suns; but +it ought to suffice. There is a lot to be seen and +enjoyed in a mountain mile. Through the high country +two miles an hour is a fair average rate of speed, +so you can readily calculate that fifteen make a pretty +long day. You will be afoot a good share of the time. +If you were out from home for only a few hours' jaunt, +undoubtedly you would ride your horse over places where +in an extended trip you will prefer to lead him. It is +always a question of saving your animals. + +About ten o'clock you must begin to figure on +water. No horse will drink in the cool of the morning, +and so, when the sun gets well up, he will be +thirsty. Arrange it. + +As to the method of travel, you can either stop at +noon or push straight on through. We usually arose +about half past four; got under way by seven; and +then rode continuously until ready to make the next +camp. In the high country this meant until two or +three in the afternoon, by which time both we and the +horses were pretty hungry. But when we did make +camp, the horses had until the following morning to +get rested and to graze, while we had all the remainder +of the afternoon to fish, hunt, or loaf. Sometimes, +however, it was more expedient to make a lunch-camp +at noon. Then we allowed an hour for grazing, and +about half an hour to pack and unpack. It meant +steady work for ourselves. To unpack, turn out the +horses, cook, wash dishes, saddle up seven animals, +and repack, kept us very busy. There remained not +much leisure to enjoy the scenery. It freshened the +horses, however, which was the main point. I should +say the first method was the better for ordinary +journeys; and the latter for those times when, to reach +good feed, a forced march becomes necessary. + +On reaching the night's stopping-place, the cook +for the day unpacks the cook-horse and at once sets +about the preparation of dinner. The other two attend +to the animals. And no matter how tired you +are, or how hungry you may be, you must take time +to bathe their backs with cold water; to stake the +picket-animal where it will at once get good feed and +not tangle its rope in bushes, roots, or stumps; to +hobble the others; and to bell those inclined to +wander. After this is done, it is well, for the peace and +well-being of the party, to take food. + +A smoke establishes you in the final and normal +attitude of good humor. Each man spreads his tarpaulin +where he has claimed his bed. Said claim is +indicated by his hat thrown down where he wishes +to sleep. It is a mark of pre-emption which every one +is bound to respect. Lay out your saddle-blankets, +cover them with your quilt, place the sleeping- +blanket on top, and fold over the tarpaulin to cover +the whole. At the head deposit your duffle-bag. Thus +are you assured of a pleasant night. + +About dusk you straggle in with trout or game. +The camp-keeper lays aside his mending or his +repairing or his note-book, and stirs up the cooking- +fire. The smell of broiling and frying and boiling +arises in the air. By the dancing flame of the campfire +you eat your third dinner for the day--in the +mountains all meals are dinners, and formidable ones +at that. The curtain of blackness draws down close. +Through it shine stars, loom mountains cold and +mist-like in the moon. You tell stories. You smoke +pipes. After a time the pleasant chill creeps down +from the eternal snows. Some one throws another +handful of pine-cones on the fire. Sleepily you prepare +for bed. The pine-cones flare up, throwing their +light in your eyes. You turn over and wrap the soft +woolen blanket close about your chin. You wink +drowsily and at once you are asleep. Along late in +the night you awaken to find your nose as cold as a +dog's. You open one eye. A few coals mark where +the fire has been. The mist mountains have drawn +nearer, they seem to bend over you in silent +contemplation. The moon is sailing high in the heavens. + +With a sigh you draw the canvas tarpaulin over +your head. Instantly it is morning. + + + +V + +THE COAST RANGES + +At last, on the day appointed, we, with five +horses, climbed the Cold Spring Trail to the +ridge; and then, instead of turning to the left, we +plunged down the zigzag lacets of the other side. +That night we camped at Mono Canon, feeling ourselves +strangely an integral part of the relief map we +had looked upon so many times that almost we had +come to consider its features as in miniature, not +capacious for the accommodation of life-sized men. +Here we remained a day while we rode the hills in +search of Dinkey and Jenny, there pastured. + +We found Jenny peaceful and inclined to be corralled. +But Dinkey, followed by a slavishly adoring +brindle mule, declined to be rounded up. We chased +her up hill and down; along creek-beds and through +the spiky chaparral. Always she dodged craftily, +warily, with forethought. Always the brindled mule, +wrapt in admiration at his companion's cleverness, +crashed along after. Finally we teased her into a +narrow canon. Wes and the Tenderfoot closed the +upper end. I attempted to slip by to the lower, but +was discovered. Dinkey tore a frantic mile down the +side hill. Bullet, his nostrils wide, his ears back, raced +parallel in the boulder-strewn stream-bed, wonderful +in his avoidance of bad footing, precious in his +selection of good, interested in the game, indignant at the +wayward Dinkey, profoundly contemptuous of the +besotted mule. At a bend in the canon interposed +a steep bank. Up this we scrambled, dirt and stones +flying. I had just time to bend low along the saddle +when, with the ripping and tearing and scratching of +thorns, we burst blindly through a thicket. In the +open space on the farther side Bullet stopped, panting +but triumphant. Dinkey, surrounded at last, turned +back toward camp with an air of utmost indifference. +The mule dropped his long ears and followed. + +At camp we corralled Dinkey, but left her friend +to shift for himself. Then was lifted up his voice in +mulish lamentations until, cursing, we had to ride out +bareback and drive him far into the hills and there +stone him into distant fear. Even as we departed up +the trail the following day the voice of his sorrow, +diminishing like the echo of grief, appealed uselessly +to Dinkey's sympathy. For Dinkey, once captured, +seemed to have shrugged her shoulders and accepted +inevitable toil with a real though cynical philosophy. + +The trail rose gradually by imperceptible gradations +and occasional climbs. We journeyed in the +great canons. High chaparral flanked the trail, +occasional wide gray stretches of "old man" filled the air +with its pungent odor and with the calls of its quail. +The crannies of the rocks, the stretches of wide loose +shale, the crumbling bottom earth offered to the +eye the dessicated beauties of creamy yucca, of yerba +buena, of the gaudy red paint-brushes, the Spanish +bayonet; and to the nostrils the hot dry perfumes of +the semi-arid lands. The air was tepid; the sun hot. +A sing-song of bees and locusts and strange insects +lulled the mind. The ponies plodded on cheerfully. +We expanded and basked and slung our legs over +the pommels of our saddles and were glad we had come. + +At no time did we seem to be climbing mountains. +Rather we wound in and out, round and about, +through a labyrinth of valleys and canons and +ravines, farther and farther into a mysterious shut-in +country that seemed to have no end. Once in a while, +to be sure, we zigzagged up a trifling ascent; but it +was nothing. And then at a certain point the Tenderfoot +happened to look back. + +"Well!" he gasped; "will you look at that!" + +We turned. Through a long straight aisle which +chance had placed just there, we saw far in the distance +a sheer slate-colored wall; and beyond, still +farther in the distance, overtopping the slate-colored +wall by a narrow strip, another wall of light azure blue. + +"It's our mountains," said Wes, "and that blue +ridge is the channel islands. We've got up higher +than our range." + +We looked about us, and tried to realize that we +were actually more than halfway up the formidable +ridge we had so often speculated on from the Cold +Spring Trail. But it was impossible. In a few +moments, however, our broad easy canon narrowed. +Huge crags and sheer masses of rock hemmed us +in. The chaparral and yucca and yerba buena gave +place to pine-trees and mountain oaks, with little +close clumps of cottonwoods in the stream bottom. +The brook narrowed and leaped, and the white of +alkali faded from its banks. We began to climb +in good earnest, pausing often for breath. The view +opened. We looked back on whence we had come, +and saw again, from the reverse, the forty miles of +ranges and valleys we had viewed from the Ridge Trail. + +At this point we stopped to shoot a rattlesnake. +Dinkey and Jenny took the opportunity to push +ahead. From time to time we would catch sight +of them traveling earnestly on, following the trail +accurately, stopping at stated intervals to rest, doing +their work, conducting themselves as decorously as +though drivers had stood over them with blacksnake +whips. We tried a little to catch up. + +"Never mind," said Wes, "they've been over this +trail before. They'll stop when they get to where +we're going to camp." + +We halted a moment on the ridge to look back +over the lesser mountains and the distant ridge, +beyond which the islands now showed plainly. Then +we dropped down behind the divide into a cup valley +containing a little meadow with running water on +two sides of it and big pines above. The meadow +was brown, to be sure, as all typical California is at +this time of year. But the brown of California and +the brown of the East are two different things. Here +is no snow or rain to mat down the grass, to suck +out of it the vital principles. It grows ripe and sweet +and soft, rich with the life that has not drained away, +covering the hills and valleys with the effect of beaver +fur, so that it seems the great round-backed hills must +have in a strange manner the yielding flesh-elasticity +of living creatures. The brown of California is the +brown of ripeness; not of decay. + +Our little meadow was beautifully named Madulce,[1] +and was just below the highest point of this +section of the Coast Range. The air drank fresh with +the cool of elevation. We went out to shoot supper; +and so found ourselves on a little knoll fronting the +brown-hazed east. As we stood there, enjoying the +breeze after our climb, a great wave of hot air swept +by us, filling our lungs with heat, scorching our faces +as the breath of a furnace. Thus was brought to our +minds what, in the excitement of a new country, we +had forgotten,--that we were at last on the eastern slope, +and that before us waited the Inferno of the desert. + + +[1] In all Spanish names the final e should be pronounced. + + +That evening we lay in the sweet ripe grasses of +Madulce, and talked of it. Wes had been across it +once before and did not possess much optimism with +which to comfort us. + +"It's hot, just plain hot," said he, "and that's all +there is about it. And there's mighty little water, +and what there is is sickish and a long ways apart. +And the sun is strong enough to roast potatoes in." + +"Why not travel at night?" we asked. + +"No place to sleep under daytimes," explained +Wes. "It's better to keep traveling and then get +a chance for a little sleep in the cool of the night." + +We saw the reasonableness of that. + +"Of course we'll start early, and take a long +nooning, and travel late. We won't get such a lot of +sleep." + +"How long is it going to take us?" + +Wes calculated. + +"About eight days," he said soberly. + +The next morning we descended from Madulce +abruptly by a dirt trail, almost perpendicular until we +slid into a canon of sage-brush and quail, of mescale +cactus and the fierce dry heat of sun-baked shale. + +"Is it any hotter than this on the desert?" we inquired. + +Wes looked on us with pity. + +"This is plumb arctic," said he. + +Near noon we came to a little cattle ranch situated +in a flat surrounded by red dikes and buttes +after the manner of Arizona. Here we unpacked, +early as it was, for through the dry countries one has +to apportion his day's journeys by the water to be +had. If we went farther to-day, then to-morrow night +would find us in a dry camp. + +The horses scampered down the flat to search out +alfilaria. We roosted under a slanting shed,--where +were stock saddles, silver-mounted bits and spurs, +rawhide riatas, branding-irons, and all the lumber of +the cattle business,--and hung out our tongues and +gasped for breath and earnestly desired the sun to +go down or a breeze to come up. The breeze shortly +did so. It was a hot breeze, and availed merely to +cover us with dust, to swirl the stable-yard into our +faces. Great swarms of flies buzzed and lit and stung. +Wes, disgusted, went over to where a solitary cow- +puncher was engaged in shoeing a horse. Shortly +we saw Wes pressed into service to hold the horse's +hoof. He raised a pathetic face to us, the big round +drops chasing each other down it as fast as rain. We +grinned and felt better. + +The fierce perpendicular rays of the sun beat down. +The air under the shed grew stuffier and more +oppressive, but it was the only patch of shade in all that +pink and red furnace of a little valley. The Tenderfoot +discovered a pair of horse-clippers, and, becoming +slightly foolish with the heat, insisted on our +barbering his head. We told him it was cooler with +hair than without; and that the flies and sun would +be offered thus a beautiful opportunity, but without +avail. So we clipped him,--leaving, however, a beautiful +long scalp-lock in the middle of his crown. He +looked like High-low-kickapoo-waterpot, chief of +the Wam-wams. After a while he discovered it, and +was unhappy. + +Shortly the riders began to come in, jingling up to +the shed, with a rattle of spurs and bit-chains. There +they unsaddled their horses, after which, with great +unanimity, they soused their heads in the horse-trough. +The chief, a six-footer, wearing beautifully decorated +gauntlets and a pair of white buckskin chaps, went +so far as to say it was a little warm for the time of +year. In the freshness of evening, when frazzled +nerves had regained their steadiness, he returned to +smoke and yarn with us and tell us of the peculiarities +of the cattle business in the Cuyamas. At present +he and his men were riding the great mountains, driving +the cattle to the lowlands in anticipation of a +rodeo the following week. A rodeo under that sun! + +We slept in the ranch vehicles, so the air could get +under us. While the stars still shone, we crawled +out, tired and unrefreshed. The Tenderfoot and I +went down the valley after the horses. While we +looked, the dull pallid gray of dawn filtered into the +darkness, and so we saw our animals, out of proportion, +monstrous in the half light of that earliest morning. +Before the range riders were even astir we had +taken up our journey, filching thus a few hours from +the inimical sun. + +Until ten o'clock we traveled in the valley of the +Cuyamas. The river was merely a broad sand and +stone bed, although undoubtedly there was water +below the surface. California rivers are said to flow +bottom up. To the northward were mountains typical +of the arid countries,--boldly defined, clear in +the edges of their folds, with sharp shadows and hard, +uncompromising surfaces. They looked brittle and +hollow, as though made of papier mache and set down +in the landscape. A long four hours' noon we spent +beneath a live-oak near a tiny spring. I tried to hunt, +but had to give it up. After that I lay on my back +and shot doves as they came to drink at the spring. +It was better than walking about, and quite as effective +as regards supper. A band of cattle filed stolidly +in, drank, and filed as stolidly away. Some half-wild +horses came to the edge of the hill, stamped, snorted, +essayed a tentative advance. Them we drove away, +lest they decoy our own animals. The flies would +not let us sleep. Dozens of valley and mountain +quail called with maddening cheerfulness and energy. +By a mighty exercise of will we got under way again. +In an hour we rode out into what seemed to be a grassy +foot-hill country, supplied with a most refreshing breeze. + +The little round hills of a few hundred feet rolled +gently away to the artificial horizon made by their +closing in. The trail meandered white and distinct +through the clear fur-like brown of their grasses. +Cattle grazed. Here and there grew live-oaks, planted +singly as in a park. Beyond we could imagine the +great plain, grading insensibly into these little hills. + +And then all at once we surmounted a slight +elevation, and found that we had been traveling on a +plateau, and that these apparent little hills were in +reality the peaks of high mountains. + +We stood on the brink of a wide smooth velvet- +creased range that dipped down and down to miniature +canons far below. Not a single little boulder +broke the rounded uniformity of the wild grasses. +Out from beneath us crept the plain, sluggish and +inert with heat. + +Threads of trails, dull white patches of alkali, vague +brown areas of brush, showed indeterminate for a little +distance. But only for a little distance. Almost +at once they grew dim, faded in the thickness of +atmosphere, lost themselves in the mantle of heat that lay +palpable and brown like a shimmering changing veil, +hiding the distance in mystery and in dread. It was +a land apart; a land to be looked on curiously from +the vantage-ground of safety,--as we were looking +on it from the shoulder of the mountain,--and then +to be turned away from, to be left waiting behind +its brown veil for what might come. To abandon +the high country, deliberately to cut loose from the +known, deliberately to seek the presence that lay +in wait,--all at once it seemed the height of +grotesque perversity. We wanted to turn on our heels. +We wanted to get back to our hills and fresh breezes +and clear water, to our beloved cheerful quail, to our +trails and the sweet upper air. + +For perhaps a quarter of an hour we sat our horses, +gazing down. Some unknown disturbance lazily +rifted the brown veil by ever so little. We saw, lying +inert and languid, obscured by its own rank steam, a +great round lake. We knew the water to be bitter, +poisonous. The veil drew together again. Wes shook +himself and sighed, "There she is,--damn her!" said he. + + + +VI + +THE INFERNO + +For eight days we did penance, checking off the +hours, meeting doggedly one after another the +disagreeable things. We were bathed in heat; we +inhaled it; it soaked into us until we seemed to radiate +it like so many furnaces. A condition of thirst +became the normal condition, to be only slightly +mitigated by a few mouthfuls from zinc canteens of +tepid water. Food had no attractions: even smoking +did not taste good. Always the flat country stretched +out before us. We could see far ahead a landmark +which we would reach only by a morning's travel. +Nothing intervened between us and it. After we +had looked at it a while, we became possessed of an +almost insane necessity to make a run for it. The +slow maddening three miles an hour of the pack- +train drove us frantic. There were times when it +seemed that unless we shifted our gait, unless we +stepped outside the slow strain of patience to which +the Inferno held us relentlessly, we should lose our +minds and run round and round in circles--as people +often do, in the desert. + +And when the last and most formidable hundred +yards had slunk sullenly behind us to insignificance, +and we had dared let our minds relax from the +insistent need of self-control--then, beyond the cotton. +woods, or creek-bed, or group of buildings, whichever +it might be, we made out another, remote as +paradise, to which we must gain by sunset. So again +the wagon-trail, with its white choking dust, its +staggering sun, its miles made up of monotonous inches, +each clutching for a man's sanity. + +We sang everything we knew; we told stories; +we rode cross-saddle, sidewise, erect, slouching; we +walked and led our horses; we shook the powder of +years from old worn jokes, conundrums, and puzzles, +--and at the end, in spite of our best efforts, we fell +to morose silence and the red-eyed vindictive +contemplation of the objective point that would not +seem to come nearer. + +For now we lost accurate sense of time. At first it +had been merely a question of going in at one side +of eight days, pressing through them, and coming out +on the other side. Then the eight days would be +behind us. But once we had entered that enchanted +period, we found ourselves more deeply involved. +The seemingly limited area spread with startling +swiftness to the very horizon. Abruptly it was borne +in on us that this was never going to end; just as +now for the first time we realized that it had begun +infinite ages ago. We were caught in the entanglement +of days. The Coast Ranges were the experiences +of a past incarnation: the Mountains were a myth. + +Nothing was real but this; and this would endure +forever. We plodded on because somehow it was +part of the great plan that we should do so. Not +that it did any good:--we had long since given up +such ideas. The illusion was very real; perhaps it +was the anodyne mercifully administered to those +who pass through the Inferno. + +Most of the time we got on well enough. One +day, only, the Desert showed her power. That day, +at five of the afternoon, it was one hundred and +twenty degrees in the shade. And we, through necessity +of reaching the next water, journeyed over the +alkali at noon. Then the Desert came close on us and +looked us fair in the eyes, concealing nothing. She +killed poor Deuce, the beautiful setter who had traveled +the wild countries so long; she struck Wes +and the Tenderfoot from their horses when finally +they had reached a long-legged water tank; she even +staggered the horses themselves. And I, lying under +a bush where I had stayed after the others in the hope +of succoring Deuce, began idly shooting at ghostly +jack-rabbits that looked real, but through which the +revolver bullets passed without resistance. + +After this day the Tenderfoot went water-crazy. +Watering the horses became almost a mania with +him. He could not bear to pass even a mud-hole +without offering the astonished Tunemah a chance to fill +up, even though that animal had drunk freely not twenty +rods back. As for himself, he embraced every opportunity; +and journeyed draped in many canteens. + +After that it was not so bad. The thermometer +stood from a hundred to a hundred and five or six, +to be sure, but we were getting used to it. Discomfort, +ordinary physical discomfort, we came to accept +as the normal environment of man. It is astonishing +how soon uniformly uncomfortable conditions, by +very lack of contrast, do lose their power to color +the habit of mind. I imagine merely physical +unhappiness is a matter more of contrasts than of actual +circumstances. We swallowed dust; we humped +our shoulders philosophically under the beating of +the sun, we breathed the debris of high winds; we +cooked anyhow, ate anything, spent long idle fly- +infested hours waiting for the noon to pass; we slept +in horse-corrals, in the trail, in the dust, behind +stables, in hay, anywhere. There was little water, +less wood for the cooking. + +It is now all confused, an impression of events with +out sequence, a mass of little prominent purposeless +things like rock conglomerate. I remember leaning +my elbows on a low window-ledge and watching a +poker game going on in the room of a dive. The +light came from a sickly suspended lamp. It fell +on five players,--two miners in their shirt-sleeves, a +Mexican, a tough youth with side-tilted derby hat, +and a fat gorgeously dressed Chinaman. The men +held their cards close to their bodies, and wagered in +silence. Slowly and regularly the great drops of sweat +gathered on their faces. As regularly they raised the +backs of their hands to wipe them away. Only the +Chinaman, broad-faced, calm, impassive as Buddha, +save for a little crafty smile in one corner of his eye, +seemed utterly unaffected by the heat, cool as autumn. +His loose sleeve fell back from his forearm when he +moved his hand forward, laying his bets. A jade +bracelet slipped back and forth as smoothly as on +yellow ivory. + +Or again, one night when the plain was like a sea +of liquid black, and the sky blazed with stars, we +rode by a sheep-herder's camp. The flicker of a fire +threw a glow out into the dark. A tall wagon, a +group of silhouetted men, three or four squatting +dogs, were squarely within the circle of illumination. +And outside, in the penumbra of shifting half light, +now showing clearly, now fading into darkness, were +the sheep, indeterminate in bulk, melting away by +mysterious thousands into the mass of night. We +passed them. They looked up, squinting their eyes +against the dazzle of their fire. The night closed +about us again. + +Or still another: in the glare of broad noon, after +a hot and trying day, a little inn kept by a French +couple. And there, in the very middle of the Inferno, +was served to us on clean scrubbed tables, a meal +such as one gets in rural France, all complete, with +the potage, the fish fried in oil, the wonderful ragout, +the chicken and salad, the cheese and the black coffee, +even the vin ordinaire. I have forgotten the name +of the place, its location on the map, the name of its +people,--one has little to do with detail in the +Inferno,--but that dinner never will I forget, any +more than the Tenderfoot will forget his first sight +of water the day when the Desert "held us up." + +Once the brown veil lifted to the eastward. We, +souls struggling, saw great mountains and the whiteness +of eternal snow. That noon we crossed a river, +hurrying down through the flat plain, and in its +current came the body of a drowned bear-cub, an alien +from the high country. + +These things should have been as signs to our +jaded spirits that we were nearly at the end of our +penance, but discipline had seared over our souls, and +we rode on unknowing. + +Then we came on a real indication. It did not +amount to much. Merely a dry river-bed; but the +farther bank, instead of being flat, cut into a low swell +of land. We skirted it. Another swell of land, like +the sullen after-heave of a storm, lay in our way. +Then we crossed a ravine. It was not much of a +ravine; in fact it was more like a slight gouge in the +flatness of the country. After that we began to see +oak-trees, scattered at rare intervals. So interested +were we in them that we did not notice rocks beginning +to outcrop through the soil until they had +become numerous enough to be a feature of the +landscape. The hills, gently, quietly, without abrupt +transition, almost as though they feared to awaken +our alarm by too abrupt movement of growth, glided +from little swells to bigger swells. The oaks gathered +closer together. The ravine's brother could almost be +called a canon. The character of the country had +entirely changed. + +And yet, so gradually had this change come about +that we did not awaken to a full realization of our +escape. To us it was still the plain, a trifle modified +by local peculiarity, but presently to resume its +wonted aspect. We plodded on dully, anodyned +with the desert patience. + +But at a little before noon, as we rounded the cheek +of a slope, we encountered an errant current of air. +It came up to us curiously, touched us each in turn, +and went on. The warm furnace heat drew in on us +again. But it had been a cool little current of air, with +something of the sweetness of pines and water and +snow-banks in it. The Tenderfoot suddenly reined +in his horse and looked about him. + +"Boys!" he cried, a new ring of joy in his voice, +"we're in the foot-hills!" + +Wes calculated rapidly. "It's the eighth day +to-day: I guessed right on the time." + +We stretched our arms and looked about us. They +were dry brown hills enough; but they were hills, and +they had trees on them, and canons in them, so to our +eyes, wearied with flatness, they seemed wonderful. + + + +VII + +THE FOOT-HILLS + +At once our spirits rose. We straightened in our +saddles, we breathed deep, we joked. The +country was scorched and sterile; the wagon-trail, +almost paralleling the mountains themselves on a long +easy slant toward the high country, was ankle-deep +in dust; the ravines were still dry of water. But it +was not the Inferno, and that one fact sufficed. After +a while we crossed high above a river which dashed +white water against black rocks, and so were happy. + +The country went on changing. The change was +always imperceptible, as is growth, or the stealthy +advance of autumn through the woods. From moment +to moment one could detect no alteration. Something +intangible was taken away; something impalpable added. +At the end of an hour we were in the oaks and sycamores; +at the end of two we were in the pines and low +mountains of Bret Harte's Forty-Nine. + +The wagon-trail felt ever farther and farther into +the hills. It had not been used as a stage-route for +years, but the freighting kept it deep with dust, that +writhed and twisted and crawled lazily knee-high to +our horses, like a living creature. We felt the swing +and sweep of the route. The boldness of its stretches, +the freedom of its reaches for the opposite slope, the +wide curve of its horseshoes, all filled us with the +breath of an expansion which as yet the broad low +country only suggested. + +Everything here was reminiscent of long ago. The +very names hinted stories of the Argonauts. Coarse +Gold Gulch, Whiskey Creek, Grub Gulch, Fine +Gold Post-Office in turn we passed. Occasionally, +with a fine round dash into the open, the trail drew +one side to a stage-station. The huge stables, the +wide corrals, the low living-houses, each shut in its +dooryard of blazing riotous flowers, were all familiar. +Only lacked the old-fashioned Concord coach, from +which to descend Jack Hamlin or Judge Starbottle. +As for M'liss, she was there, sunbonnet and all. + +Down in the gulch bottoms were the old placer +diggings. Elaborate little ditches for the deflection +of water, long cradles for the separation of gold, +decayed rockers, and shining in the sun the tons and +tons of pay dirt which had been turned over pound +by pound in the concentrating of its treasure. Some +of the old cabins still stood. It was all deserted now, +save for the few who kept trail for the freighters, or +who tilled the restricted bottom-lands of the flats. +Road-runners racked away down the paths; squirrels +scurried over worn-out placers; jays screamed and +chattered in and out of the abandoned cabins. Strange +and shy little creatures and birds, reassured by the +silence of many years, had ventured to take to +themselves the engines of man's industry. And the warm +California sun embalmed it all in a peaceful forgetfulness. + +Now the trees grew bigger, and the hills more +impressive. We should call them mountains in the East. +Pines covered them to the top, straight slender pines +with voices. The little flats were planted with great +oaks. When we rode through them, they shut out +the hills, so that we might have imagined ourselves +in the level wooded country. There insisted the effect +of limitless tree-grown plains, which the warm drowsy +sun, the park-like landscape, corroborated. And yet +the contrast of the clear atmosphere and the sharp air +equally insisted on the mountains. It was a strange +and delicious double effect, a contradiction of natural +impressions, a negation of our right to generalize from +previous experience. + +Always the trail wound up and up. Never was it +steep; never did it command an outlook. Yet we +felt that at last we were rising, were leaving the level +of the Inferno, were nearing the threshold of the high +country. + +Mountain peoples came to the edges of their clearings +and gazed at us, responding solemnly to our +salutations. They dwelt in cabins and held to +agriculture and the herding of the wild mountain cattle. +From them we heard of the high country to which +we were bound. They spoke of it as you or I +would speak of interior Africa, as something inconceivably +remote, to be visited only by the adventurous, +an uninhabited realm of vast magnitude and +unknown dangers. In the same way they spoke of +the plains. Only the narrow pine-clad strip between +the two and six thousand feet of elevation they felt +to be their natural environment. In it they found the +proper conditions for their existence. Out of it those +conditions lacked. They were as much a localized +product as are certain plants which occur only at +certain altitudes. Also were they densely ignorant of +trails and routes outside of their own little districts. + +All this, you will understand, was in what is known +as the low country. The landscape was still brown; +the streams but trickles; sage-brush clung to the +ravines; the valley quail whistled on the side hills. + +But one day we came suddenly into the big pines and +rocks; and that very night we made our first camp in a +meadow typical of the mountains we had dreamed about. + + + +THE PINES + +VIII + +THE PINES + +I do not know exactly how to make you feel the charm +of that first camp in the big country. Certainly I can +never quite repeat it in my own experience. + +Remember that for two months we had grown +accustomed to the brown of the California landscape, +and that for over a week we had traveled in the +Inferno. We had forgotten the look of green grass, +of abundant water; almost had we forgotten the taste +of cool air. So invariably had the trails been dusty, +and the camping-places hard and exposed, that we +had come subconsciously to think of such as typical +of the country. Try to put yourself in the frame of +mind those conditions would make. + +Then imagine yourself climbing in an hour or +so up into a high ridge country of broad cup-like +sweeps and bold outcropping ledges. Imagine a forest +of pine-trees bigger than any pines you ever saw +before,--pines eight and ten feet through, so huge +that you can hardly look over one of their prostrate +trunks even from the back of your pony. Imagine, +further, singing little streams of ice-cold water, deep +refreshing shadows, a soft carpet of pine-needles +through which the faint furrow of the trail runs as +over velvet. And then, last of all, in a wide opening, +clear as though chopped and plowed by some back- +woodsman, a park of grass, fresh grass, green as a +precious stone. + +This was our first sight of the mountain meadows. +From time to time we found others, sometimes a half +dozen in a day. The rough country came down close +about them, edging to the very hair-line of the magic +circle, which seemed to assure their placid sunny +peace. An upheaval of splintered granite often tossed +and tumbled in the abandon of an unrestrained passion +that seemed irresistibly to overwhelm the sanities +of a whole region; but somewhere, in the very forefront +of turmoil, was like to slumber one of these little +meadows, as unconscious of anything but its own +flawless green simplicity as a child asleep in mid-ocean. +Or, away up in the snows, warmed by the fortuity of +reflected heat, its emerald eye looked bravely out to +the heavens. Or, as here, it rested confidingly in the +very heart of the austere forest. + +Always these parks are green; always are they clear +and open. Their size varies widely. Some are as +little as a city lawn; others, like the great Monache,[2] +are miles in extent. In them resides the possibility +of your traveling the high country; for they supply +the feed for your horses. + + +[2] Do not fail to sound the final e. + + +Being desert-weary, the Tenderfoot and I cried out +with the joy of it, and told in extravagant language +how this was the best camp we had ever made. + +"It's a bum camp," growled Wes. "If we couldn't +get better camps than this, I'd quit the game." + +He expatiated on the fact that this particular +meadow was somewhat boggy; that the feed was too +watery; that there'd be a cold wind down through +the pines; and other small and minor details. But +we, our backs propped against appropriately slanted +rocks, our pipes well aglow, gazed down the twilight +through the wonderful great columns of the trees to +where the white horses shone like snow against the +unaccustomed relief of green, and laughed him to +scorn. What did we--or the horses for that matter +--care for trifling discomforts of the body? In these +intangible comforts of the eye was a great refreshment +of the spirit. + +The following day we rode through the pine +forests growing on the ridges and hills and in the +elevated bowl-like hollows. These were not the so- +called "big trees,"--with those we had to do later, +as you shall see. They were merely sugar and yellow +pines, but never anywhere have I seen finer specimens. +They were planted with a grand sumptuousness +of space, and their trunks were from five to +twelve feet in diameter and upwards of two hundred +feet high to the topmost spear. Underbrush, ground +growth, even saplings of the same species lacked +entirely, so that we proceeded in the clear open aisles +of a tremendous and spacious magnificence. + +This very lack of the smaller and usual growths, +the generous plan of spacing, and the size of the trees +themselves necessarily deprived us of a standard +of comparison. At first the forest seemed immense. +But after a little our eyes became accustomed to its +proportions. We referred it back to the measures of +long experience. The trees, the wood-aisles, the +extent of vision shrunk to the normal proportions of an +Eastern pinery. And then we would lower our gaze. +The pack-train would come into view. It had become +lilliputian, the horses small as white mice, the men +like tin soldiers, as though we had undergone an +enchantment. But in a moment, with the rush of a mighty +transformation, the great trees would tower huge again. + +In the pine woods of the mountains grows also a +certain close-clipped parasitic moss. In color it is +a brilliant yellow-green, more yellow than green. In +shape it is crinkly and curly and tangled up with +itself like very fine shavings. In consistency it is dry +and brittle. This moss girdles the trunks of trees +with innumerable parallel inch-wide bands a foot or +so apart, in the manner of old-fashioned striped +stockings. It covers entirely sundry twigless branches. +Always in appearance is it fantastic, decorative, +almost Japanese, as though consciously laid in with its +vivid yellow-green as an intentional note of a tone +scheme. The somberest shadows, the most neutral +twilights, the most austere recesses are lighted by it +as though so many freakish sunbeams had severed +relations with the parent luminary to rest quietly in +the coolnesses of the ancient forest. + +Underfoot the pine-needles were springy beneath +the horse's hoof. The trail went softly, with the +courtesy of great gentleness. Occasionally we caught sight +of other ridges,--also with pines,--across deep +sloping valleys, pine filled. The effect of the distant +trees seen from above was that of roughened velvet, +here smooth and shining, there dark with rich +shadows. On these slopes played the wind. In the +level countries it sang through the forest progressively: +here on the slope it struck a thousand trees at +once. The air was ennobled with the great voice, as +a church is ennobled by the tones of a great organ. +Then we would drop back again to the inner country, +for our way did not contemplate the descents nor +climbs, but held to the general level of a plateau. + +Clear fresh brooks ran in every ravine. Their water +was snow-white against the black rocks; or lay dark +in bank-shadowed pools. As our horses splashed +across we could glimpse the rainbow trout flashing +to cover. Where the watered hollows grew lush were +thickets full of birds, outposts of the aggressively +and cheerfully worldly in this pine-land of spiritual +detachment. Gorgeous bush-flowers, great of petal +as magnolias, with perfume that lay on the air like +a heavy drowsiness; long clear stretches of an ankle- +high shrub of vivid emerald, looking in the distance +like sloping meadows of a peculiar color-brilliance; +patches of smaller flowers where for the trifling space +of a street's width the sun had unobstructed fall,-- +these from time to time diversified the way, brought +to our perceptions the endearing trifles of earthiness, +of humanity, befittingly to modify the austerity of +the great forest. At a brookside we saw, still fresh +and moist, the print of a bear's foot. From a patch +of the little emerald brush, a barren doe rose to +her feet, eyed us a moment, and then bounded away +as though propelled by springs. We saw her from +time to time surmounting little elevations farther and +farther away. + +The air was like cold water. We had not lung +capacity to satisfy our desire for it. There came with +it a dry exhilaration that brought high spirits, an +optimistic viewpoint, and a tremendous keen appetite. +It seemed that we could never tire. In fact we never +did. Sometimes, after a particularly hard day, we +felt like resting; but it was always after the day's +work was done, never while it was under way. The +Tenderfoot and I one day went afoot twenty-two +miles up and down a mountain fourteen thousand +feet high. The last three thousand feet were nearly +straight up and down. We finished at a four-mile +clip an hour before sunset, and discussed what to +do next to fill in the time. When we sat down, we +found we had had about enough; but we had not +discovered it before. + +All of us, even the morose and cynical Dinkey, felt +the benefit of the change from the lower country. +Here we were definitely in the Mountains. Our +plateau ran from six to eight thousand feet in +altitude. Beyond it occasionally we could see three more +ridges, rising and falling, each higher than the last. +And then, in the blue distance, the very crest of the +broad system called the Sierras,--another wide region +of sheer granite rising in peaks, pinnacles, and minarets, +rugged, wonderful, capped with the eternal snows. + + + +IX + +THE TRAIL + +When you say "trail" to a Westerner, his eye +lights up. This is because it means something +to him. To another it may mean something +entirely different, for the blessed word is of that rare +and beautiful category which is at once of the widest +significance and the most intimate privacy to him +who utters it. To your mind leaps the picture of +the dim forest-aisles and the murmurings of tree-top +breezes; to him comes a vision of the wide dusty +desert; to me, perhaps, a high wild country of wonder. +To all of us it is the slender, unbroken, never- +ending thread connecting experiences. + +For in a mysterious way, not to be understood, our +trails never do end. They stop sometimes, and wait +patiently while we dive in and out of houses, but +always when we are ready to go on, they are ready +too, and so take up the journey placidly as though +nothing had intervened. They begin, when? Sometime, +away in the past, you may remember a single +episode, vivid through the mists of extreme youth. +Once a very little boy walked with his father under a +green roof of leaves that seemed farther than the sky +and as unbroken. All of a sudden the man raised +his gun and fired upwards, apparently through the +green roof. A pause ensued. Then, hurtling roughly +through still that same green roof, a great bird fell, +hitting the earth with a thump. The very little boy +was I. My trail must have begun there under the +bright green roof of leaves. + +From that earliest moment the Trail unrolls behind +you like a thread so that never do you quite lose +connection with your selves. There is something a +little fearful to the imaginative in the insistence of it. +You may camp, you may linger, but some time or +another, sooner or later, you must go on, and when +you do, then once again the Trail takes up its +continuity without reference to the muddied place you +have tramped out in your indecision or indolence or +obstinacy or necessity. It would be exceedingly +curious to follow out in patience the chart of a man's +going, tracing the pattern of his steps with all its +windings of nursery, playground, boys afield, country, +city, plain, forest, mountain, wilderness, home, +always on and on into the higher country of responsibility +until at the last it leaves us at the summit of the +Great Divide. Such a pattern would tell his story as +surely as do the tracks of a partridge on the snow. + +A certain magic inheres in the very name, or at +least so it seems to me. I should be interested to +know whether others feel the same glamour that I do +in the contemplation of such syllables as the Lo-Lo +Trail, the Tunemah Trail, the Mono Trail, the Bright +Angel Trail. A certain elasticity of application too +leaves room for the more connotation. A trail may +be almost anything. There are wagon-trails which +East would rank as macadam roads; horse-trails that +would compare favorably with our best bridle-paths; +foot-trails in the fur country worn by constant use as +smooth as so many garden-walks. Then again there +are other arrangements. I have heard a mule-driver +overwhelmed with skeptical derision because he +claimed to have upset but six times in traversing a +certain bit of trail not over five miles long; in charts +of the mountains are marked many trails which are +only "ways through,"--you will find few traces of +predecessors; the same can be said of trails in the +great forests where even an Indian is sometimes at +fault. "Johnny, you're lost," accused the white man. +"Trail lost: Injun here," denied the red man. And +so after your experience has led you by the campfires +of a thousand delights, and each of those campfires +is on the Trail, which only pauses courteously +for your stay and then leads on untiring into new +mysteries forever and ever, you come to love it as the +donor of great joys. You too become a Westerner, and +when somebody says "trail," your eye too lights up. + +The general impression of any particular trail is +born rather of the little incidents than of the big +accidents. The latter are exotic, and might belong to +any time or places; the former are individual. For +the Trail is a vantage-ground, and from it, as your +day's travel unrolls, you see many things. Nine +tenths of your experience comes thus, for in the long +journeys the side excursions are few enough and +unimportant enough almost to merit classification with +the accidents. In time the character of the Trail thus +defines itself. + +Most of all, naturally, the kind of country has to +do with this generalized impression. Certain surprises, +through trees, of vista looking out over unexpected +spaces; little notches in the hills beyond which +you gain to a placid far country sleeping under a sun +warmer than your elevation permits; the delicious +excitement of the moment when you approach the +very knife-edge of the summit and wonder what lies +beyond,--these are the things you remember with a +warm heart. Your saddle is a point of vantage. By +it you are elevated above the country; from it you +can see clearly. Quail scuttle away to right and left, +heads ducked low; grouse boom solemnly on the +rigid limbs of pines; deer vanish through distant +thickets to appear on yet more distant ridges, thence +to gaze curiously, their great ears forward; across the +canon the bushes sway violently with the passage of +a cinnamon bear among them,--you see them all +from your post of observation. Your senses are +always alert for these things; you are always bending +from your saddle to examine the tracks and signs that +continually offer themselves for your inspection +and interpretation. + +Our trail of this summer led at a general high +elevation, with comparatively little climbing and +comparatively easy traveling for days at a time. Then +suddenly we would find ourselves on the brink of a +great box canon from three to seven thousand feet +deep, several miles wide, and utterly precipitous. In +the bottom of this canon would be good feed, fine +groves of trees, and a river of some size in which +swam fish. The trail to the canon-bed was always +bad, and generally dangerous. In many instances we +found it bordered with the bones of horses that had +failed. The river had somehow to be forded. We +would camp a day or so in the good feed and among +the fine groves of trees, fish in the river, and then +address ourselves with much reluctance to the ascent +of the other bad and dangerous trail on the other +side. After that, in the natural course of events, +subject to variation, we could expect nice trails, the +comfort of easy travel, pines, cedars, redwoods, and +joy of life until another great cleft opened before us +or another great mountain-pass barred our way. + +This was the web and woof of our summer. But +through it ran the patterns of fantastic delight such +as the West alone can offer a man's utter disbelief in +them. Some of these patterns stand out in memory +with peculiar distinctness. + +Below Farewell Gap is a wide canon with high +walls of dark rock, and down those walls run many +streams of water. They are white as snow with the +dash of their descent, but so distant that the eye +cannot distinguish their motion. In the half light of +dawn, with the yellow of sunrise behind the mountains, +they look like gauze streamers thrown out from +the windows of morning to celebrate the solemn +pageant of the passing of many hills. + +Again, I know of a canon whose westerly wall is +colored in the dull rich colors, the fantastic patterns +of a Moorish tapestry. Umber, seal brown, red, terra- +cotta, orange, Nile green, emerald, purple, cobalt +blue, gray, lilac, and many other colors, all rich with +the depth of satin, glow wonderful as the craftiest +textures. Only here the fabric is five miles long and +half a mile wide. + +There is no use in telling of these things. They, +and many others of their like, are marvels, and exist; +but you cannot tell about them, for the simple reason +that the average reader concludes at once you +must be exaggerating, must be carried away by the +swing of words. The cold sober truth is, you cannot +exaggerate. They haven't made the words. Talk +as extravagantly as you wish to one who will in the +most childlike manner believe every syllable you +utter. Then take him into the Big Country. He will +probably say, "Why, you didn't tell me it was +going to be anything like THIS!" We in the East have +no standards of comparison either as regards size or +as regards color--especially color. Some people +once directed me to "The Gorge" on the New +England coast. I couldn't find it. They led me to it, +and rhapsodized over its magnificent terror. I could +have ridden a horse into the ridiculous thing. As for +color, no Easterner believes in it when such men as +Lungren or Parrish transposit it faithfully, any more +than a Westerner would believe in the autumn foliage +of our own hardwoods, or an Englishman in the +glories of our gaudiest sunsets. They are all true. + +In the mountains, the high mountains above the +seven or eight thousand foot level, grows an affair +called the snow-plant. It is, when full grown, about +two feet in height, and shaped like a loosely +constructed pine-cone set up on end. Its entire +substance is like wax, and the whole concern--stalk, +broad curling leaves, and all--is a brilliant scarlet. +Sometime you will ride through the twilight of deep +pine woods growing on the slope of the mountain, +a twilight intensified, rendered more sacred to your +mood by the external brilliancy of a glimpse of vivid +blue sky above dazzling snow mountains far away. +Then, in this monotone of dark green frond and dull +brown trunk and deep olive shadow, where, like +the ordered library of one with quiet tastes, nothing +breaks the harmony of unobtrusive tone, suddenly +flames the vivid red of a snow-plant. You will never +forget it. + +Flowers in general seem to possess this concentrated +brilliancy both of color and of perfume. You +will ride into and out of strata of perfume as sharply +defined as are the quartz strata on the ridges. They +lie sluggish and cloying in the hollows, too heavy to +rise on the wings of the air. + +As for color, you will see all sorts of queer things. +The ordered flower-science of your childhood has +gone mad. You recognize some of your old friends, +but strangely distorted and changed,--even the dear +old "butter 'n eggs" has turned pink! Patches of +purple, of red, of blue, of yellow, of orange are laid +in the hollows or on the slopes like brilliant blankets +out to dry in the sun. The fine grasses are spangled +with them, so that in the cup of the great fierce +countries the meadows seem like beautiful green +ornaments enameled with jewels. The Mariposa +Lily, on the other hand, is a poppy-shaped flower +varying from white to purple, and with each petal +decorated by an "eye" exactly like those on the +great Cecropia or Polyphemus moths, so that their +effect is that of a flock of gorgeous butterflies come +to rest. They hover over the meadows poised. A +movement would startle them to flight; only the +proper movement somehow never comes. + +The great redwoods, too, add to the colored- +edition impression of the whole country. A redwood, +as perhaps you know, is a tremendous big tree sometimes +as big as twenty feet in diameter. It is exquisitely +proportioned like a fluted column of noble +height. Its bark is slightly furrowed longitudinally, and +of a peculiar elastic appearance that lends it an almost +perfect illusion of breathing animal life. The color +is a rich umber red. Sometimes in the early morning +or the late afternoon, when all the rest of the forest +is cast in shadow, these massive trunks will glow as +though incandescent. The Trail, wonderful always, +here seems to pass through the outer portals of the +great flaming regions where dwell the risings and +fallings of days. + +As you follow the Trail up, you will enter also the +permanent dwelling-places of the seasons. With us +each visits for the space of a few months, then steals +away to give place to the next. Whither they go you +have not known until you have traveled the high +mountains. Summer lives in the valley; that you +know. Then a little higher you are in the spring- +time, even in August. Melting patches of snow +linger under the heavy firs; the earth is soggy with +half-absorbed snow-water, trickling with exotic little +rills that do not belong; grasses of the year before +float like drowned hair in pellucid pools with an air +of permanence, except for the one fact; fresh green +things are sprouting bravely; through bare branches +trickles a shower of bursting buds, larger at the top, +as though the Sower had in passing scattered them +from above. Birds of extraordinary cheerfulness sing +merrily to new and doubtful flowers. The air tastes +cold, but the sun is warm. The great spring +humming and promise is in the air. And a few thousand +feet higher you wallow over the surface of drifts +while a winter wind searches your bones. I used to +think that Santa Claus dwelt at the North Pole. +Now I am convinced that he has a workshop somewhere +among the great mountains where dwell the +Seasons, and that his reindeer paw for grazing in the +alpine meadows below the highest peaks. + +Here the birds migrate up and down instead of +south and north. It must be a great saving of trouble +to them, and undoubtedly those who have discovered +it maintain toward the unenlightened the same +delighted and fraternal secrecy with which you and I +guard the knowledge of a good trout-stream. When +you can migrate adequately in a single day, why +spend a month at it? + +Also do I remember certain spruce woods with +openings where the sun shone through. The shadows +were very black, the sunlight very white. As I looked +back I could see the pack-horses alternately suffer +eclipse and illumination in a strange flickering manner +good to behold. The dust of the trail eddied +and billowed lazily in the sun, each mote flashing +as though with life; then abruptly as it crossed the +sharp line of shade it disappeared. + +From these spruce woods, level as a floor, we came +out on the rounded shoulder of a mountain to find +ourselves nearly nine thousand feet above the sea. +Below us was a deep canon to the middle of the +earth. And spread in a semicircle about the curve +of our mountain a most magnificent panoramic view. +First there were the plains, represented by a brown +haze of heat; then, very remote, the foot-hills, the +brush-hills, the pine mountains, the upper timber, +the tremendous granite peaks, and finally the barrier +of the main crest with its glittering snow. From the +plains to that crest was over seventy miles. I should +not dare say how far we could see down the length of +the range; nor even how distant was the other wall of +the canon over which we rode. Certainly it was many +miles; and to reach the latter point consumed three days. + +It is useless to multiply instances. The principle +is well enough established by these. Whatever +impression of your trail you carry away will come from +the little common occurrences of every day. That is true +of all trails; and equally so, it seems to me, of our +Trail of Life sketched at the beginning of this essay. + +But the trail of the mountains means more than +wonder; it means hard work. Unless you stick to +the beaten path, where the freighters have lost so +many mules that they have finally decided to fix +things up a bit, you are due for lots of trouble. Bad +places will come to be a nightmare with you and a +topic of conversation with whomever you may meet. +We once enjoyed the company of a prospector three +days while he made up his mind to tackle a certain +bit of trail we had just descended. Our accounts did +not encourage him. Every morning he used to squint +up at the cliff which rose some four thousand feet +above us. "Boys," he said finally as he started, "I +may drop in on you later in the morning." I am +happy to say he did not. + +The most discouraging to the tenderfoot, but in +reality the safest of all bad trails, is the one that skirts +a precipice. Your horse possesses a laudable desire +to spare your inside leg unnecessary abrasion, so he +walks on the extreme outer edge. If you watch the +performance of the animal ahead, you will observe +that every few moments his outer hind hoof slips off +that edge, knocking little stones down into the abyss. +Then you conclude that sundry slight jars you have +been experiencing are from the same cause. Your +peace of mind deserts you. You stare straight ahead, +sit VERY light indeed, and perhaps turn the least bit +sick. The horse, however, does not mind, nor will +you, after a little. There is absolutely nothing to do +but to sit steady and give your animal his head. In +a fairly extended experience I never got off the edge +but once. Then somebody shot a gun immediately +ahead; my horse tried to turn around, slipped, and +slid backwards until he overhung the chasm. +Fortunately his hind feet caught a tiny bush. He gave +a mighty heave, and regained the trail. Afterwards +I took a look and found that there were no more +bushes for a hundred feet either way. + +Next in terror to the unaccustomed is an ascent by +lacets up a very steep side hill. The effect is +cumulative. Each turn brings you one stage higher, adds +definitely one more unit to the test of your hardihood. +This last has not terrified you; how about the +next? or the next? or the one after that? There is +not the slightest danger. You appreciate this point +after you have met head-on some old-timer. After +you have speculated frantically how you are to pass +him, he solves the problem by calmly turning his +horse off the edge and sliding to the next lacet below. +Then you see that with a mountain horse it does not +much matter whether you get off such a trail or not. + +The real bad places are quite as likely to be on +the level as on the slant. The tremendous granite +slides, where the cliff has avalanched thousands of +tons of loose jagged rock-fragments across the passage, +are the worst. There your horse has to be a goat +in balance. He must pick his way from the top of +one fragment to the other, and if he slips into the +interstices he probably breaks a leg. In some parts +of the granite country are also smooth rock aprons +where footing is especially difficult, and where often +a slip on them means a toboggan chute off into space. +I know of one spot where such an apron curves +off the shoulder of the mountain. Your horse slides +directly down it until his hoofs encounter a little +crevice. Checking at this, he turns sharp to the left +and so off to the good trail again. If he does not +check at the little crevice, he slides on over the curve +of the shoulder and lands too far down to bury. + +Loose rocks in numbers on a very steep and narrow +trail are always an abomination, and a numerous +abomination at that. A horse slides, skates, slithers. +It has always seemed to me that luck must count +largely in such a place. When the animal treads on +a loose round stone--as he does every step of the +way--that stone is going to roll under him, and he +is going to catch himself as the nature of that stone +and the little gods of chance may will. Only furthermore +I have noticed that the really good horse keeps +his feet, and the poor one tumbles. A judgmatical +rider can help a great deal by the delicacy of his +riding and the skill with which he uses his reins. Or +better still, get off and walk. + +Another mean combination, especially on a slant, +is six inches of snow over loose stones or small +boulders. There you hope for divine favor and flounder +ahead. There is one compensation; the snow is soft +to fall on. Boggy areas you must be able to gauge +the depth of at a glance. And there are places, beautiful +to behold, where a horse clambers up the least +bit of an ascent, hits his pack against a projection, +and is hurled into outer space. You must recognize +these, for he will be busy with his feet. + +Some of the mountain rivers furnish pleasing +afternoons of sport. They are deep and swift, and below +the ford are rapids. If there is a fallen tree of any sort +across them,--remember the length of California +trees, and do not despise the rivers,--you would +better unpack, carry your goods across yourself, and +swim the pack-horses. If the current is very bad, you +can splice riatas, hitch one end to the horse and the +other to a tree on the farther side, and start the +combination. The animal is bound to swing across +somehow. Generally you can drive them over loose. In +swimming a horse from the saddle, start him well +upstream to allow for the current, and never, never, +never attempt to guide him by the bit. The Tenderfoot +tried that at Mono Creek and nearly drowned +himself and Old Slob. You would better let him +alone, as he probably knows more than you do. If +you must guide him, do it by hitting the side of his +head with the flat of your hand. + +Sometimes it is better that you swim. You can +perform that feat by clinging to his mane on the +downstream side, but it will be easier both for you +and him if you hang to his tail. Take my word for +it, he will not kick you. + +Once in a blue moon you may be able to cross +the whole outfit on logs. Such a log bridge spanned +Granite Creek near the North Fork of the San Joaquin +at an elevation of about seven thousand feet. +It was suspended a good twenty feet above the water, +which boiled white in a most disconcerting manner +through a gorge of rocks. If anything fell off that +log it would be of no further value even to the +curiosity seeker. We got over all the horses save +Tunemah. He refused to consider it, nor did peaceful +argument win. As he was more or less of a fool, +we did not take this as a reflection on our judgment, +but culled cedar clubs. We beat him until we were +ashamed. Then we put a slip-noose about his neck. +The Tenderfoot and I stood on the log and heaved +while Wes stood on the shore and pushed. Suddenly +it occurred to me that if Tunemah made up his silly +mind to come, he would probably do it all at once, +in which case the Tenderfoot and I would have about +as much show for life as fossil formations. I didn't +say anything about it to the Tenderfoot, but I hitched +my six-shooter around to the front, resolved to find +out how good I was at wing-shooting horses. But +Tunemah declared he would die for his convictions. +"All right," said we, "die then," with the embellishment +of profanity. So we stripped him naked, and +stoned him into the raging stream, where he had one +chance in three of coming through alive. He might +as well be dead as on the other side of that stream. +He won through, however, and now I believe he'd +tackle a tight rope. + +Of such is the Trail, of such its wonders, its +pleasures, its little comforts, its annoyances, its dangers. +And when you are forced to draw your six-shooter +to end mercifully the life of an animal that has served +you faithfully, but that has fallen victim to the leg- +breaking hazard of the way, then you know a little +of its tragedy also. May you never know the greater +tragedy when a man's life goes out, and you unable +to help! May always your trail lead through fine trees, +green grasses, fragrant flowers, and pleasant waters! + + + +X + +ON SEEING DEER + +Once I happened to be sitting out a dance with +a tactful young girl of tender disposition who +thought she should adapt her conversation to the +one with whom she happened to be talking. Therefore +she asked questions concerning out-of-doors. She +knew nothing whatever about it, but she gave a very +good imitation of one interested. For some occult +reason people never seem to expect me to own evening +clothes, or to know how to dance, or to be able +to talk about anything civilized; in fact, most of +them appear disappointed that I do not pull off a +war-jig in the middle of the drawing-room. + +This young girl selected deer as her topic. She +mentioned liquid eyes, beautiful form, slender ears; +she said "cute," and "darlings," and "perfect dears." +Then she shuddered prettily. + +"And I don't see how you can ever BEAR to shoot +them, Mr. White," she concluded. + +"You quarter the onions and slice them very thin," +said I dreamily. "Then you take a little bacon fat +you had left over from the flap-jacks and put it in +the frying-pan. The frying-pan should be very hot. +While the onions are frying, you must keep turning +them over with a fork. It's rather difficult to get +them all browned without burning some. I should +broil the meat. A broiler is handy, but two willows, +peeled and charred a little so the willow taste won't +penetrate the meat, will do. Have the steak fairly +thick. Pepper and salt it thoroughly. Sear it well +at first in order to keep the juices in; then cook +rather slowly. When it is done, put it on a hot +plate and pour the browned onions, bacon fat and +all, over it." + +"What ARE you talking about?" she interrupted. + +"I'm telling you why I can bear to shoot deer," +said I. + +"But I don't see--" said she. + +"Don't you?" said I. "Well; suppose you've +been climbing a mountain late in the afternoon when +the sun is on the other side of it. It is a mountain of +big boulders, loose little stones, thorny bushes. The +slightest misstep would send pebbles rattling, brush +rustling; but you have gone all the way without +making that misstep. This is quite a feat. It means +that you've known all about every footstep you've +taken. That would be business enough for most +people, wouldn't it? But in addition you've managed +to see EVERYTHING on that side of the mountain +--especially patches of brown. You've seen lots of +patches of brown, and you've examined each one +of them. Besides that, you've heard lots of little +rustlings, and you've identified each one of them. To +do all these things well keys your nerves to a high +tension, doesn't it? And then near the top you look +up from your last noiseless step to see in the brush +a very dim patch of brown. If you hadn't been looking +so hard, you surely wouldn't have made it out. +Perhaps, if you're not humble-minded, you may +reflect that most people wouldn't have seen it at all. +You whistle once sharply. The patch of brown +defines itself. Your heart gives one big jump. You +know that you have but the briefest moment, the +tiniest fraction of time, to hold the white bead of +your rifle motionless and to press the trigger. It has +to be done VERY steadily, at that distance,--and you +out of breath, with your nerves keyed high in the +tension of such caution." + +"NOW what are you talking about?" she broke in +helplessly. + +"Oh, didn't I mention it?" I asked, surprised. +"I was telling you why I could bear to shoot deer." + +"Yes, but--" she began. + +"Of course not," I reassured her. "After all, it's +very simple. The reason I can bear to kill deer is +because, to kill deer, you must accomplish a skillful +elimination of the obvious." + +My young lady was evidently afraid of being +considered stupid; and also convinced of her inability to +understand what I was driving at. So she temporized +in the manner of society. + +"I see," she said, with an air of complete enlightenment. + +Now of course she did not see. Nobody could see the +force of that last remark without the grace of further +explanation, and yet in the elimination of the obvious +rests the whole secret of seeing deer in the woods. + +In traveling the trail you will notice two things: +that a tenderfoot will habitually contemplate the +horn of his saddle or the trail a few yards ahead +of his horse's nose, with occasionally a look about at +the landscape; and the old-timer will be constantly +searching the prospect with keen understanding eyes. +Now in the occasional glances the tenderfoot takes, +his perceptions have room for just so many impressions. +When the number is filled out he sees nothing +more. Naturally the obvious features of the landscape +supply the basis for these impressions. He sees +the configuration of the mountains, the nature of their +covering, the course of their ravines, first of all. Then +if he looks more closely, there catches his eye an odd- +shaped rock, a burned black stub, a flowering bush, +or some such matter. Anything less striking in its +appeal to the attention actually has not room for +its recognition. In other words, supposing that a +man has the natural ability to receive x visual +impressions, the tenderfoot fills out his full capacity with +the striking features of his surroundings. To be able +to see anything more obscure in form or color, he +must naturally put aside from his attention some one +or another of these obvious features. He can, for +example, look for a particular kind of flower on a side +hill only by refusing to see other kinds. + +If this is plain, then, go one step further in the +logic of that reasoning. Put yourself in the mental +attitude of a man looking for deer. His eye sweeps +rapidly over a side hill; so rapidly that you cannot +understand how he can have gathered the main features +of that hill, let alone concentrate and refine his +attention to the seeing of an animal under a bush. +As a matter of fact he pays no attention to the main +features. He has trained his eye, not so much to see +things, as to leave things out. The odd-shaped rock, +the charred stub, the bright flowering bush do not +exist for him. His eye passes over them as unseeing +as yours over the patch of brown or gray that represents +his quarry. His attention stops on the unusual, +just as does yours; only in his case the unusual is +not the obvious. He has succeeded by long training +in eliminating that. Therefore he sees deer where +you do not. As soon as you can forget the naturally +obvious and construct an artificially obvious, then you +too will see deer. + +These animals are strangely invisible to the +untrained eye even when they are standing "in plain +sight." You can look straight at them, and not see +them at all. Then some old woodsman lets you sight +over his finger exactly to the spot. At once the figure +of the deer fairly leaps into vision. I know of no +more perfect example of the instantaneous than this. +You are filled with astonishment that you could for +a moment have avoided seeing it. And yet next time +you will in all probability repeat just this "puzzle +picture" experience. + +The Tenderfoot tried for six weeks before he +caught sight of one. He wanted to very much. +Time and again one or the other of us would hiss +back, "See the deer! over there by the yellow bush!" +but before he could bring the deliberation of his +scrutiny to the point of identification, the deer would +be gone. Once a fawn jumped fairly within ten feet +of the pack-horses and went bounding away through +the bushes, and that fawn he could not help seeing. +We tried conscientiously enough to get him a shot; +but the Tenderfoot was unable to move through the +brush less majestically than a Pullman car, so we had +ended by becoming apathetic on the subject. + +Finally, while descending a very abrupt mountain- +side I made out a buck lying down perhaps three +hundred feet directly below us. The buck was not +looking our way, so I had time to call the Tenderfoot. +He came. With difficulty and by using my +rifle-barrel as a pointer I managed to show him the +animal. Immediately he began to pant as though +at the finish of a mile race, and his rifle, when he +leveled it, covered a good half acre of ground. This +would never do. + +"Hold on!" I interrupted sharply. + +He lowered his weapon to stare at me wild-eyed. + +"What is it?" he gasped. + +"Stop a minute!" I commanded. "Now take +three deep breaths." + +He did so. + +"Now shoot," I advised, "and aim at his knees." + +The deer was now on his feet and facing us, so +the Tenderfoot had the entire length of the animal +to allow for lineal variation. He fired. The deer +dropped. The Tenderfoot thrust his hat over one +eye, rested hand on hip in a manner cocky to behold. + +"Simply slaughter!" he proffered with lofty scorn. + +We descended. The bullet had broken the deer's +back--about six inches from the tail. The Tenderfoot +had overshot by at least three feet. + +You will see many deer thus from the trail,--in +fact, we kept up our meat supply from the saddle, +as one might say,--but to enjoy the finer savor of +seeing deer, you should start out definitely with that +object in view. Thus you have opportunity for the +display of a certain finer woodcraft. You must know +where the objects of your search are likely to be found, +and that depends on the time of year, the time of days +their age, their sex, a hundred little things. When +the bucks carry antlers in the velvet, they frequent +the inaccessibilities of the highest rocky peaks, so +their tender horns may not be torn in the brush, but +nevertheless so that the advantage of a lofty viewpoint +may compensate for the loss of cover. Later you +will find them in the open slopes of a lower altitude, +fully exposed to the sun, that there the heat may +harden the antlers. Later still, the heads in fine +condition and tough to withstand scratches, they plunge +into the dense thickets. But in the mean time the +fertile does have sought a lower country with patches of +small brush interspersed with open passages. There +they can feed with their fawns, completely concealed, +but able, by merely raising the head, to survey the +entire landscape for the threatening of danger. The +barren does, on the other hand, you will find through +the timber and brush, for they are careless of all +responsibilities either to offspring or headgear. These +are but a few of the considerations you will take into +account, a very few of the many which lend the +deer countries strange thrills of delight over new +knowledge gained, over crafty expedients invented +or well utilized, over the satisfactory matching of +your reason, your instinct, your subtlety and skill +against the reason, instinct, subtlety, and skill of one +of the wariest of large wild animals. + +Perversely enough the times when you did NOT see +deer are more apt to remain vivid in your memory +than the times when you did. I can still see distinctly +sundry wide jump-marks where the animal I was +tracking had evidently caught sight of me and lit out +before I came up to him. Equally, sundry little thin +disappearing clouds of dust; cracklings of brush, +growing ever more distant; the tops of bushes waving +to the steady passage of something remaining persistently +concealed,--these are the chief ingredients often +repeated which make up deer-stalking memory. When I +think of seeing deer, these things automatically rise. + +A few of the deer actually seen do, however, stand +out clearly from the many. When I was a very small +boy possessed of a 32-20 rifle and large ambitions, +I followed the advantage my father's footsteps made +me in the deep snow of an unused logging-road. +His attention was focused on some very interesting +fresh tracks. I, being a small boy, cared not at all +for tracks, and so saw a big doe emerge from the +bushes not ten yards away, lope leisurely across the +road, and disappear, wagging earnestly her tail. +When I had recovered my breath I vehemently +demanded the sense of fooling with tracks when there +were real live deer to be had. My father examined me. + +"Well, why didn't you shoot her?" he inquired dryly. + +I hadn't thought of that. + +In the spring of 1900 I was at the head of the +Piant River waiting for the log-drive to start. One +morning, happening to walk over a slashing of many +years before in which had grown a strong thicket of +white popples, I jumped a band of nine deer. I shall +never forget the bewildering impression made by the +glancing, dodging, bouncing white of those nine +snowy tails and rumps. + +But most wonderful of all was a great buck, of I +should be afraid to say how many points, that stood +silhouetted on the extreme end of a ridge high above +our camp. The time was just after twilight, and as +we watched, the sky lightened behind him in prophecy +of the moon. + + + +ON TENDERFEET + +XI + +ON TENDERFEET + +The tenderfoot is a queer beast. He makes +more trouble than ants at a picnic, more work +than a trespassing goat; he never sees anything, +knows where anything is, remembers accurately your +instructions, follows them if remembered, or is able to +handle without awkwardness his large and pathetic +hands and feet; he is always lost, always falling off +or into things, always in difficulties; his articles of +necessity are constantly being burned up or washed +away or mislaid; he looks at you beamingly through +great innocent eyes in the most chuckle-headed of +manners; he exasperates you to within an inch of +explosion,--and yet you love him. + +I am referring now to the real tenderfoot, the fellow +who cannot learn, who is incapable ever of adjusting +himself to the demands of the wild life. Sometimes +a man is merely green, inexperienced. But give him +a chance and he soon picks up the game. That is +your greenhorn, not your tenderfoot. Down near +Monache meadows we came across an individual leading +an old pack-mare up the trail. The first thing, he +asked us to tell him where he was. We did so. Then +we noticed that he carried his gun muzzle-up in his +hip-pocket, which seemed to be a nice way to shoot +a hole in your hand, but a poor way to make your +weapon accessible. He unpacked near us, and promptly +turned the mare into a bog-hole because it looked +green. Then he stood around the rest of the evening +and talked deprecating talk of a garrulous nature. + +"Which way did you come?" asked Wes. + +The stranger gave us a hazy account of misnamed +canons, by which we gathered that he had come +directly over the rough divide below us. + +"But if you wanted to get to Monache, why +didn't you go around to the eastward through that +pass, there, and save yourself all the climb? It must +have been pretty rough through there." + +"Yes, perhaps so," he hesitated. "Still--I got +lots of time--I can take all summer, if I want to-- +and I'd rather stick to a straight line--then you +know where you ARE--if you get off the straight +line, you're likely to get lost, you know." + +We knew well enough what ailed him, of course. +He was a tenderfoot, of the sort that always, to its +dying day, unhobbles its horses before putting their +halters on. Yet that man for thirty-two years had +lived almost constantly in the wild countries. He +had traveled more miles with a pack-train than we +shall ever dream of traveling, and hardly could we +mention a famous camp of the last quarter century +that he had not blundered into. Moreover he proved +by the indirections of his misinformation that he had +really been there and was not making ghost stories +in order to impress us. Yet if the Lord spares him +thirty-two years more, at the end of that time he will +probably still be carrying his gun upside down, turning +his horse into a bog-hole, and blundering through +the country by main strength and awkwardness. He +was a beautiful type of the tenderfoot. + +The redeeming point of the tenderfoot is his +humbleness of spirit and his extreme good nature. +He exasperates you with his fool performances to +the point of dancing cursing wild crying rage, and +then accepts your--well, reproofs--so meekly that you +come off the boil as though some one had removed you +from the fire, and you feel like a low-browed thug. + +Suppose your particular tenderfoot to be named +Algernon. Suppose him to have packed his horse +loosely--they always do--so that the pack has +slipped, the horse has bucked over three square miles +of assorted mountains, and the rest of the train is +scattered over identically that area. You have run +your saddle-horse to a lather heading the outfit. You +have sworn and dodged and scrambled and yelled, +even fired your six-shooter, to turn them and bunch +them. In the mean time Algernon has either sat his +horse like a park policeman in his leisure hours, +or has ambled directly into your path of pursuit on +an average of five times a minute. Then the trouble +dies from the landscape and the baby bewilderment +from his eyes. You slip from your winded horse and +address Algernon with elaborate courtesy. + +"My dear fellow," you remark, "did you not see +that the thing for you to do was to head them down +by the bottom of that little gulch there? Don't you +really think ANYBODY would have seen it? What in +hades do you think I wanted to run my horse all +through those boulders for? Do you think I want +to get him lame 'way up here in the hills? I don't +mind telling a man a thing once, but to tell it to +him fifty-eight times and then have it do no good-- +Have you the faintest recollection of my instructing +you to turn the bight OVER instead of UNDER when you +throw that pack-hitch? If you'd remember that, we +shouldn't have had all this trouble." + +"You didn't tell me to head them by the little +gulch," babbles Algernon. + +This is just the utterly fool reply that upsets your +artificial and elaborate courtesy. You probably foam +at the mouth, and dance on your hat, and shriek wild +imploring imprecations to the astonished hills. This +is not because you have an unfortunate disposition, +but because Algernon has been doing precisely the +same thing for two months. + +"Listen to him!" you howl. "Didn't tell him! +Why you gangle-legged bug-eyed soft-handed pop- +eared tenderfoot, you! there are some things you +never THINK of telling a man. I never told you to +open your mouth to spit, either. If you had a hired +man at five dollars a year who was so all-around +hopelessly thick-headed and incompetent as you are, +you'd fire him to-morrow morning." + +Then Algernon looks truly sorry, and doesn't +answer back as he ought to in order to give occasion +for the relief of a really soul-satisfying scrap, and +utters the soft answer humbly. So your wrath is +turned and there remain only the dregs which taste +like some of Algernon's cooking. + +It is rather good fun to relieve the bitterness of +the heart. Let me tell you a few more tales of the +tenderfoot, premising always that I love him, and +when at home seek him out to smoke pipes at his +fireside, to yarn over the trail, to wonder how much +rancor he cherishes against the maniacs who declaimed +against him, and by way of compensation to build up +in the mind of his sweetheart, his wife, or his mother +a fearful and wonderful reputation for him as the +Terror of the Trail. These tales are selected from +many, mere samples of a varied experience. They +occurred here, there, and everywhere, and at various +times. Let no one try to lay them at the door of our +Tenderfoot merely because such is his title in this +narrative. We called him that by way of distinction. + +Once upon a time some of us were engaged in +climbing a mountain rising some five thousand feet +above our starting-place. As we toiled along, one of +the pack-horses became impatient and pushed ahead. +We did not mind that, especially, as long as she +stayed in sight, but in a little while the trail was +closed in by brush and timber. + +"Algernon," said we, "just push on and get ahead +of that mare, will you?" + +Algernon disappeared. We continued to climb. The trail +was steep and rather bad. The labor was strenuous, and +we checked off each thousand feet with thankfulness. As +we saw nothing further of Algernon, we naturally +concluded he had headed the mare and was continuing on +the trail. Then through a little opening we saw him +riding cheerfully along without a care to occupy his +mind. Just for luck we hailed him. + +"Hi there, Algernon! Did you find her?" + +"Haven't seen her yet." + +"Well, you'd better push on a little faster. She +may leave the trail at the summit." + +Then one of us, endowed by heaven with a keen intuitive +instinct for tenderfeet,--no one could have a knowledge +of them, they are too unexpected,--had an inspiration. + +"I suppose there are tracks on the trail ahead of +you?" he called. + +We stared at each other, then at the trail. Only +one horse had preceded us,--that of the tenderfoot. +But of course Algernon was nevertheless due for his +chuckle-headed reply. + +"I haven't looked," said he. + +That raised the storm conventional to such an occasion. + +"What in the name of seventeen little dicky-birds +did you think you were up to!" we howled. "Were +you going to ride ahead until dark in the childlike +faith that that mare might show up somewhere? Here's +a nice state of affairs. The trail is all tracked up +now with our horses, and heaven knows whether she's +left tracks where she turned off. It may be rocky there." + +We tied the animals savagely, and started back on +foot. It would be criminal to ask our saddle-horses +to repeat that climb. Algernon we ordered to stay +with them. + +"And don't stir from them no matter what happens, +or you'll get lost," we commanded out of the +wisdom of long experience. + +We climbed down the four thousand odd feet, +and then back again, leading the mare. She had +turned off not forty rods from where Algernon had +taken up her pursuit. + +Your Algernon never does get down to little +details like tracks--his scheme of life is much too +magnificent. To be sure he would not know fresh +tracks from old if he should see them; so it is +probably quite as well. In the morning he goes out after +the horses. The bunch he finds easily enough, but +one is missing. What would you do about it? You +would naturally walk in a circle around the bunch +until you crossed the track of the truant leading +away from it, wouldn't you? If you made a wide +enough circle you would inevitably cross that track, +wouldn't you? provided the horse started out with +the bunch in the first place. Then you would follow +the track, catch the horse, and bring him back. Is +this Algernon's procedure? Not any. "Ha!" says +he, "old Brownie is missing. I will hunt him up." +Then he maunders off into the scenery, trusting to +high heaven that he is going to blunder against +Brownie as a prominent feature of the landscape. +After a couple of hours you probably saddle up +Brownie and go out to find the tenderfoot. + +He has a horrifying facility in losing himself. +Nothing is more cheering than to arise from a hard- +earned couch of ease for the purpose of trailing an +Algernon or so through the gathering dusk to the +spot where he has managed to find something--a very +real despair of ever getting back to food and warmth. +Nothing is more irritating then than his gratitude. + +I traveled once in the Black Hills with such a +tenderfoot. We were off from the base of supplies +for a ten days' trip with only a saddle-horse apiece. +This was near first principles, as our total provisions +consisted of two pounds of oatmeal, some tea, and +sugar. Among other things we climbed Mt. Harney. +The trail, after we left the horses, was as plain as a +strip of Brussels carpet, but somehow or another +that tenderfoot managed to get off it. I hunted him +up. We gained the top, watched the sunset, and +started down. The tenderfoot, I thought, was fairly +at my coat-tails, but when I turned to speak to him +he had gone; he must have turned off at one of the +numerous little openings in the brush. I sat down +to wait. By and by, away down the west slope of +the mountain, I heard a shot, and a faint, a very faint, +despairing yell. I, also, shot and yelled. After various +signals of the sort, it became evident that the +tenderfoot was approaching. In a moment he tore by +at full speed, his hat off, his eye wild, his six-shooter +popping at every jump. He passed within six feet +of me, and never saw me. Subsequently I left him +on the prairie, with accurate and simple instructions. + +"There's the mountain range. You simply keep +that to your left and ride eight hours. Then you'll +see Rapid City. You simply CAN'T get lost. Those +hills stick out like a sore thumb." + +Two days later he drifted into Rapid City, having +wandered off somewhere to the east. How he had +done it I can never guess. That is his secret. + +The tenderfoot is always in hard luck. Apparently, +too, by all tests of analysis it is nothing but +luck, pure chance, misfortune. And yet the very +persistence of it in his case, where another escapes, +perhaps indicates that much of what we call good luck +is in reality unconscious skill in the arrangement +of those elements which go to make up events. A +persistently unlucky man is perhaps sometimes to be +pitied, but more often to be booted. That philosophy +will be cryingly unjust about once in ten. + +But lucky or unlucky, the tenderfoot is human. +Ordinarily that doesn't occur to you. He is a +malevolent engine of destruction--quite as impersonal +as heat or cold or lack of water. He is an unfortunate +article of personal belonging requiring much looking +after to keep in order. He is a credulous and +convenient response to practical jokes, huge tales, +misinformation. He is a laudable object of attrition +for the development of your character. But somehow, +in the woods, he is not as other men, and so you do +not come to feel yourself in close human relations to him. + +But Algernon is real, nevertheless. He has +feelings, even if you do not respect them. He has his +little enjoyments, even though he does rarely contemplate +anything but the horn of his saddle. + +"Algernon," you cry, "for heaven's sake stick +that saddle of yours in a glass case and glut yourself +with the sight of its ravishing beauties next WINTER. +For the present do gaze on the mountains. That's +what you came for." + +No use. + +He has, doubtless, a full range of all the appreciative +emotions, though from his actions you'd never suspect +it. Most human of all, he possesses his little vanities. + +Algernon always overdoes the equipment question. +If it is bird-shooting, he accumulates leggings and +canvas caps and belts and dog-whistles and things +until he looks like a picture from a department-store +catalogue. In the cow country he wears Stetson hats, +snake bands, red handkerchiefs, six-shooters, chaps, +and huge spurs that do not match his face. If it is +yachting, he has a chronometer with a gong in the +cabin of a five-ton sailboat, possesses a nickle-plated +machine to register the heel of his craft, sports a +brass-bound yachting-cap and all the regalia. This +is merely amusing. But I never could understand +his insane desire to get sunburned. A man will get +sunburned fast enough; he could not help it if he +would. Algernon usually starts out from town without +a hat. Then he dares not take off his sweater +for a week lest it carry away his entire face. I have +seen men with deep sores on their shoulders caused +by nothing but excessive burning in the sun. This, +too, is merely amusing. It means quite simply that +Algernon realizes his inner deficiencies and wants to +make up for them by the outward seeming. Be kind +to him, for he has been raised a pet. + +The tenderfoot is lovable--mysterious in how he +does it--and awfully unexpected. + + + +XII + +THE CANON + +One day we tied our horses to three bushes, and walked +on foot two hundred yards. Then we looked down. + +It was nearly four thousand feet down. Do you +realize how far that is? There was a river meandering +through olive-colored forests. It was so distant +that it was light green and as narrow as a piece of +tape. Here and there were rapids, but so remote that +we could not distinguish the motion of them, only +the color. The white resembled tiny dabs of cotton +wool stuck on the tape. It turned and twisted, +following the turns and twists of the canon. Somehow +the level at the bottom resembled less forests and +meadows than a heavy and sluggish fluid like +molasses flowing between the canon walls. It emerged +from the bend of a sheer cliff ten miles to eastward: +it disappeared placidly around the bend of another +sheer cliff an equal distance to the westward. + +The time was afternoon. As we watched, the +shadow of the canon wall darkened the valley. +Whereupon we looked up. + +Now the upper air, of which we were dwellers for +the moment, was peopled by giants and clear +atmosphere and glittering sunlight, flashing like silver +and steel and precious stones from the granite domes, +peaks, minarets, and palisades of the High Sierras. +Solid as they were in reality, in the crispness of this +mountain air, under the tangible blue of this mountain +sky, they seemed to poise light as so many balloons. +Some of them rose sheer, with hardly a fissure; some +had flung across their shoulders long trailing pine +draperies, fine as fur; others matched mantles of the +whitest white against the bluest blue of the sky. +Towards the lower country were more pines rising in +ridges, like the fur of an animal that has been alarmed. + +We dangled our feet over the edge and talked about it. +Wes pointed to the upper end where the sluggish lava-like +flow of the canon-bed first came into view. + +"That's where we'll camp," said he. + +"When?" we asked. + +"When we get there," he answered. + +For this canon lies in the heart of the mountains. +Those who would visit it have first to get into the +country--a matter of over a week. Then they have +their choice of three probabilities of destruction. + +The first route comprehends two final days of +travel at an altitude of about ten thousand feet, where +the snow lies in midsummer; where there is no feed, +no comfort, and the way is strewn with the bones of +horses. This is known as the "Basin Trail." After +taking it, you prefer the others--until you try them. + +The finish of the second route is directly over the +summit of a mountain. You climb two thousand +feet and then drop down five. The ascent is heart- +breaking but safe. The descent is hair-raising and +unsafe: no profanity can do justice to it. Out of a +pack-train of thirty mules, nine were lost in the +course of that five thousand feet. Legend has it that +once many years ago certain prospectors took in a +Chinese cook. At first the Mongolian bewailed his +fate loudly and fluently, but later settled to a single +terrified moan that sounded like "tu-ne-mah! tu-ne- +mah!" The trail was therefore named the "Tu-ne- +mah Trail." It is said that "tu-ne-mah" is the very +worst single vituperation of which the Chinese +language is capable. + +The third route is called "Hell's Half Mile." It is +not misnamed. + +Thus like paradise the canon is guarded; but +like paradise it is wondrous in delight. For when +you descend you find that the tape-wide trickle +of water seen from above has become a river with +profound darkling pools and placid stretches and +swift dashing rapids; that the dark green sluggish +flow in the canon-bed has disintegrated into a noble +forest with great pine-trees, and shaded aisles, and +deep dank thickets, and brush openings where the +sun is warm and the birds are cheerful, and groves +of cottonwoods where all day long softly, like snow, +the flakes of cotton float down through the air. +Moreover there are meadows, spacious lawns, opening +out, closing in, winding here and there through +the groves in the manner of spilled naphtha, actually +waist high with green feed, sown with flowers like a +brocade. Quaint tributary little brooks babble and +murmur down through these trees, down through +these lawns. A blessed warm sun hums with the joy +of innumerable bees. To right hand and to left, +in front of you and behind, rising sheer, forbidding, +impregnable, the cliffs, mountains, and ranges hem +you in. Down the river ten miles you can go: then +the gorge closes, the river grows savage, you can only +look down the tumbling fierce waters and turn back. +Up the river five miles you can go, then interpose +the sheer snow-clad cliffs of the Palisades, and them, +rising a matter of fourteen thousand feet, you may +not cross. You are shut in your paradise as +completely as though surrounded by iron bars. + +But, too, the world is shut out. The paradise is +yours. In it are trout and deer and grouse and bear +and lazy happy days. Your horses feed to the fatness +of butter. You wander at will in the ample +though definite limits of your domain. You lie on +your back and examine dispassionately, with an +interest entirely detached, the huge cliff-walls of the +valley. Days slip by. Really, it needs at least an +angel with a flaming sword to force you to move on. + +We turned away from our view and addressed +ourselves to the task of finding out just when we were +going to get there. The first day we bobbed up and +over innumerable little ridges of a few hundred feet +elevation, crossed several streams, and skirted the +wide bowl-like amphitheatre of a basin. The second +day we climbed over things and finally ended in a +small hanging park named Alpine Meadows, at an +elevation of eight thousand five hundred feet. There +we rested-over a day, camped under a single pine- +tree, with the quick-growing mountain grasses thick +about us, a semicircle of mountains on three sides, +and the plunge into the canon on the other. As +we needed meat, we spent part of the day in finding +a deer. The rest of the time we watched idly for bear. + +Bears are great travelers. They will often go +twenty miles overnight, apparently for the sheer +delight of being on the move. Also are they exceedingly +loath to expend unnecessary energy in getting +to places, and they hate to go down steep hills. You +see, their fore legs are short. Therefore they are +skilled in the choice of easy routes through the +mountains, and once having made the choice they +stick to it until through certain narrow places on +the route selected they have worn a trail as smooth +as a garden-path. The old prospectors used quite +occasionally to pick out the horse-passes by trusting +in general to the bear migrations, and many a +well-traveled route of to-day is superimposed over +the way-through picked out by old bruin long ago. + +Of such was our own trail. Therefore we kept +our rifles at hand and our eyes open for a straggler. +But none came, though we baited craftily with +portions of our deer. All we gained was a rattlesnake, +and he seemed a bit out of place so high up in the air. + +Mount Tunemah stood over against us, still +twenty-two hundred feet above our elevation. We +gazed on it sadly, for directly by its summit, and for +five hours beyond, lay our trail, and evil of +reputation was that trail beyond all others. The horses, +as we bunched them in preparation for the packing, +took on a new interest, for it was on the cards that +the unpacking at evening would find some missing +from the ranks. + +"Lily's a goner, sure," said Wes. "I don't know +how she's got this far except by drunken man's luck. +She'll never make the Tunemah." + +"And Tunemah himself," pointed out the Tenderfoot, +naming his own fool horse; "I see where I start in to walk." + +"Sort of a `morituri te salutamur,' " said I. + +We climbed the two thousand two hundred feet, +leading our saddle-horses to save their strength. +Every twenty feet we rested, breathing heavily of +the rarified air. Then at the top of the world we +paused on the brink of nothing to tighten cinches, +while the cold wind swept by us, the snow glittered +in a sunlight become silvery like that of early April, +and the giant peaks of the High Sierras lifted into a +distance inconceivably remote, as though the horizon +had been set back for their accommodation. + +To our left lay a windrow of snow such as you +will see drifted into a sharp crest across a corner of +your yard; only this windrow was twenty feet high +and packed solid by the sun, the wind, and the weight +of its age. We climbed it and looked over directly +into the eye of a round Alpine lake seven or eight +hundred feet below. It was of an intense cobalt blue, +a color to be seen only in these glacial bodies of +water, deep and rich as the mantle of a merchant +of Tyre. White ice floated in it. The savage fierce +granite needles and knife-edges of the mountain crest +hemmed it about. + +But this was temporizing, and we knew it. The +first drop of the trail was so steep that we could flip +a pebble to the first level of it, and so rough in its +water-and-snow-gouged knuckles of rocks that it +seemed that at the first step a horse must necessarily +fall end over end. We made it successfully, however, +and breathed deep. Even Lily, by a miracle of +lucky scrambling, did not even stumble. + +"Now she's easy for a little ways," said Wes, +"then we'll get busy." + +When we "got busy" we took our guns in our +hands to preserve them from a fall, and started in. +Two more miracles saved Dinkey at two more places. +We spent an hour at one spot, and finally built a +new trail around it. Six times a minute we held our +breaths and stood on tiptoe with anxiety, powerless +to help, while the horse did his best. At the +especially bad places we checked them off one after +another, congratulating ourselves on so much saved +as each came across without accident. When there +were no bad places, the trail was so extraordinarily +steep that we ahead were in constant dread of +a horse's falling on us from behind, and our legs did +become wearied to incipient paralysis by the constant +stiff checking of the descent. Moreover every +second or so one of the big loose stones with which +the trail was cumbered would be dislodged and come +bouncing down among us. We dodged and swore; +the horses kicked; we all feared for the integrity of +our legs. The day was full of an intense nervous +strain, an entire absorption in the precise present. +We promptly forgot a difficulty as soon as we were +by it: we had not time to think of those still ahead. +All outside the insistence of the moment was blurred +and unimportant, like a specialized focus, so I cannot +tell you much about the scenery. The only outside +impression we received was that the canon floor +was slowly rising to meet us. + +Then strangely enough, as it seemed, we stepped +off to level ground. + +Our watches said half-past three. We had made +five miles in a little under seven hours. + +Remained only the crossing of the river. This +was no mean task, but we accomplished it lightly, +searching out a ford. There were high grasses, and +on the other side of them a grove of very tall +cottonwoods, clean as a park. First of all we cooked +things; then we spread things; then we lay on our +backs and smoked things, our hands clasped back +of our heads. We cocked ironical eyes at the sheer +cliff of old Mount Tunemah, very much as a man +would cock his eye at a tiger in a cage. + +Already the meat-hawks, the fluffy Canada jays, +had found us out, and were prepared to swoop down +boldly on whatever offered to their predatory skill. +We had nothing for them yet,--there were no +remains of the lunch,--but the fire-irons were out, +and ribs of venison were roasting slowly over the +coals in preparation for the evening meal. Directly +opposite, visible through the lattice of the trees, were +two huge mountain peaks, part of the wall that shut +us in, over against us in a height we had not dared +ascribe to the sky itself. By and by the shadow of +these mountains rose on the westerly wall. It crept +up at first slowly, extinguishing color; afterwards +more rapidly as the sun approached the horizon. +The sunlight disappeared. A moment's gray intervened, +and then the wonderful golden afterglow laid +on the peaks its enchantment. Little by little that +too faded, until at last, far away, through a rift in +the ranks of the giants, but one remained gilded +by the glory of a dream that continued with it after +the others. Heretofore it had seemed to us an +insignificant peak, apparently overtopped by many, but +by this token we knew it to be the highest of them all. + +Then ensued another pause, as though to give the +invisible scene-shifter time to accomplish his work, +followed by a shower of evening coolness, that seemed +to sift through the trees like a soft and gentle rain. +We ate again by the flicker of the fire, dabbing a +trifle uncertainly at the food, wondering at the +distant mountain on which the Day had made its final +stand, shrinking a little before the stealthy dark that +flowed down the canon in the manner of a heavy smoke. + +In the notch between the two huge mountains +blazed a star,--accurately in the notch, like the +front sight of a rifle sighted into the marvelous +depths of space. Then the moon rose. + +First we knew of it when it touched the crest of +our two mountains. The night has strange effects on +the hills. A moment before they had menaced black +and sullen against the sky, but at the touch of the +moon their very substance seemed to dissolve, leaving +in the upper atmosphere the airiest, most nebulous, +fragile, ghostly simulacrums of themselves you could +imagine in the realms of fairy-land. They seemed +actually to float, to poise like cloud-shapes about to +dissolve. And against them were cast the inky silhouettes +of three fir-trees in the shadow near at hand. + +Down over the stones rolled the river, crying out +to us with the voices of old accustomed friends in +another wilderness. The winds rustled. + + + +XIII + +TROUT, BUCKSKIN, AND PROSPECTORS + +As I have said, a river flows through the canon. +It is a very good river with some riffles that +can be waded down to the edges of black pools +or white chutes of water; with appropriate big trees +fallen slantwise into it to form deep holes; and with +hurrying smooth stretches of some breadth. In all of +these various places are rainbow trout. + +There is no use fishing until late afternoon. The +clear sun of the high altitudes searches out mercilessly +the bottom of the stream, throwing its miniature +boulders, mountains, and valleys as plainly into +relief as the buttes of Arizona at noon. Then the +trout quite refuse. Here and there, if you walk far +enough and climb hard enough over all sorts of +obstructions, you may discover a few spots shaded by +big trees or rocks where you can pick up a half dozen +fish; but it is slow work. When, however, the +shadow of the two huge mountains feels its way +across the stream, then, as though a signal had been +given, the trout begin to rise. For an hour and a +half there is noble sport indeed. + +The stream fairly swarmed with them, but of course +some places were better than others. Near the upper +reaches the water boiled like seltzer around the base +of a tremendous tree. There the pool was at least ten +feet deep and shot with bubbles throughout the +whole of its depth, but it was full of fish. They rose +eagerly to your gyrating fly,--and took it away with +them down to subaqueous chambers and passages +among the roots of that tree. After which you broke +your leader. Royal Coachman was the best lure, and +therefore valuable exceedingly were Royal Coachmen. +Whenever we lost one we lifted up our voices +in lament, and went away from there, calling to mind +that there were other pools, many other pools, free +of obstruction and with fish in them. Yet such is the +perversity of fishermen, we were back losing more +Royal Coachmen the very next day. In all I managed +to disengage just three rather small trout from +that pool, and in return decorated their ancestral halls +with festoons of leaders and the brilliance of many flies. + +Now this was foolishness. All you had to do was +to walk through a grove of cottonwoods, over a +brook, through another grove of pines, down a sloping +meadow to where one of the gigantic pine-trees +had obligingly spanned the current. You crossed +that, traversed another meadow, broke through a +thicket, slid down a steep grassy bank, and there you +were. A great many years before a pine-tree had +fallen across the current. Now its whitened skeleton +lay there, opposing a barrier for about twenty-five +feet out into the stream. Most of the water turned +aside, of course, and boiled frantically around the end +as though trying to catch up with the rest of the +stream which had gone on without it, but some of it +dived down under and came up on the other side. +There, as though bewildered, it paused in an uneasy +pool. Its constant action had excavated a very deep +hole, the debris of which had formed a bar immediately +below. You waded out on the bar and cast along +the length of the pine skeleton over the pool. + +If you were methodical, you first shortened your +line, and began near the bank, gradually working +out until you were casting forty-five feet to the very +edge of the fast current. I know of nothing pleasanter +for you to do. You see, the evening shadow +was across the river, and a beautiful grass slope at your +back. Over the way was a grove of trees whose birds +were very busy because it was near their sunset, while +towering over them were mountains, quite peaceful +by way of contrast because THEIR sunset was still far +distant. The river was in a great hurry, and was talking +to itself like a man who has been detained and +is now at last making up time to his important +engagement. And from the deep black shadow beneath +the pine skeleton, occasionally flashed white bodies +that made concentric circles where they broke the +surface of the water, and which fought you to a finish +in the glory of battle. The casting was against the +current, so your flies could rest but the briefest possible +moment on the surface of the stream. That moment +was enough. Day after day you could catch your +required number from an apparently inexhaustible supply. + +I might inform you further of the gorge downstream, +where you lie flat on your stomach ten feet +above the river, and with one hand cautiously +extended over the edge cast accurately into the angle +of the cliff. Then when you get your strike, you tow +him downstream, clamber precariously to the water's +level--still playing your fish--and there land him,--if +he has accommodatingly stayed hooked. A three-pound +fish will make you a lot of tribulation at this game. + +We lived on fish and venison, and had all we +wanted. The bear-trails were plenty enough, and +the signs were comparatively fresh, but at the time +of our visit the animals themselves had gone over +the mountains on some sort of a picnic. Grouse, +too, were numerous in the popple thickets, and +flushed much like our ruffed grouse of the East. +They afforded first-rate wing-shooting for Sure-Pop, +the little shot-gun. + +But these things occupied, after all, only a small +part of every day. We had loads of time left. Of +course we explored the valley up and down. That +occupied two days. After that we became lazy. +One always does in a permanent camp. So did +the horses. Active--or rather restless interest in +life seemed to die away. Neither we nor they had +to rustle hard for food. They became fastidious +in their choice, and at all times of day could be +seen sauntering in Indian file from one part of the +meadow to the other for the sole purpose apparently +of cropping a half dozen indifferent mouthfuls. The +rest of the time they roosted under trees, one hind +leg relaxed, their eyes half closed, their ears +wabbling, the pictures of imbecile content. We were +very much the same. + +Of course we had our outbursts of virtue. While +under their influence we undertook vast works. But +after their influence had died out, we found ourselves +with said vast works on our hands, and so came to +cursing ourselves and our fool spasms of industry. + +For instance, Wes and I decided to make buckskin +from the hide of the latest deer. We did not +need the buckskin--we already had two in the +pack. Our ordinary procedure would have been to +dry the hide for future treatment by a Mexican, at a +dollar a hide, when we should have returned home. +But, as I said, we were afflicted by sporadic activity, +and wanted to do something. + +We began with great ingenuity by constructing a +graining-tool out of a table-knife. We bound it with +rawhide, and encased it with wood, and wrapped it +with cloth, and filed its edge square across, as is +proper. After this we hunted out a very smooth, +barkless log, laid the hide across it, straddled it, and +began graining. + +Graining is a delightful process. You grasp the +tool by either end, hold the square edge at a certain +angle, and push away from you mightily. A half- +dozen pushes will remove a little patch of hair; +twice as many more will scrape away half as much +of the seal-brown grain, exposing the white of the +hide. Then, if you want to, you can stop and establish +in your mind a definite proportion between the +amount thus exposed, the area remaining unexposed, +and the muscular fatigue of these dozen and +a half of mighty pushes. The proportion will be +wrong. You have left out of account the fact that you +are going to get almighty sick of the job; that your +arms and upper back are going to ache shrewdly +before you are done; and that as you go on it is going +to be increasingly difficult to hold down the edges +firmly enough to offer the required resistance to your +knife. Besides--if you get careless--you'll scrape +too hard: hence little holes in the completed buckskin. +Also--if you get careless--you will probably +leave the finest, tiniest shreds of grain, and each of +them means a hard transparent spot in the product. +Furthermore, once having started in on the job, you +are like the little boy who caught the trolley: you +cannot let go. It must be finished immediately, all +at one heat, before the hide stiffens. + +Be it understood, your first enthusiasm has evaporated, +and you are thinking of fifty pleasant things +you might just as well be doing. + +Next you revel in grease,--lard oil, if you have +it; if not, then lard, or the product of boiled brains. +This you must rub into the skin. You rub it in +until you suspect that your finger-nails have worn +away, and you glisten to the elbows like an Eskimo +cutting blubber. + +By the merciful arrangement of those who +invented buckskin, this entitles you to a rest. You +take it--for several days--until your conscience +seizes you by the scruff of the neck. + +Then you transport gingerly that slippery, clammy, +soggy, snaky, cold bundle of greasy horror to the +bank of the creek, and there for endless hours you +wash it. The grease is more reluctant to enter the +stream than you are in the early morning. Your +hands turn purple. The others go by on their way +to the trout-pools, but you are chained to the stake. + +By and by you straighten your back with creaks, +and walk home like a stiff old man, carrying your +hide rid of all superfluous oil. Then if you are just +learning how, your instructor examines the result. + +"That's all right," says he cheerfully. "Now when +it dries, it will be buckskin." + +That encourages you. It need not. For during +the process of drying it must be your pastime +constantly to pull and stretch at every square inch of +that boundless skin in order to loosen all the fibres. +Otherwise it would dry as stiff as whalebone. Now +there is nothing on earth that seems to dry slower +than buckskin. You wear your fingers down to the +first joints, and, wishing to preserve the remainder for +future use, you carry the hide to your instructor. + +"Just beginning to dry nicely," says he. + +You go back and do it some more, putting the +entire strength of your body, soul, and religious +convictions into the stretching of that buckskin. It looks +as white as paper; and feels as soft and warm as the +turf on a southern slope. Nevertheless your tyrant +declares it will not do. + +"It looks dry, and it feels dry," says he, "but it +isn't dry. Go to it!" + +But at this point your outraged soul arches its back +and bucks. You sneak off and roll up that piece of +buckskin, and thrust it into the alforja. You KNOW +it is dry. Then with a deep sigh of relief you come +out of prison into the clear, sane, lazy atmosphere of +the camp. + +"Do you mean to tell me that there is any one chump +enough to do that for a dollar a hide?" you inquire. + +"Sure," say they. + +"Well, the Fool Killer is certainly behind on his +dates," you conclude. + +About a week later one of your companions drags out of +the alforja something crumpled that resembles in general +appearance and texture a rusted five-gallon coal-oil +can that has been in a wreck. It is only imperceptibly +less stiff and angular and cast-iron than rawhide. + +"What is this?" the discoverer inquires. + +Then quietly you go out and sit on a high place +before recognition brings inevitable--and sickening +--chaff. For you know it at a glance. It is your +buckskin. + +Along about the middle of that century an old +prospector with four burros descended the Basin +Trail and went into camp just below us. Towards +evening he sauntered in. + +I sincerely wish I could sketch this man for you +just as he came down through the fire-lit trees. He +was about six feet tall, very leanly built, with a +weather-beaten face of mahogany on which was +superimposed a sweeping mustache and beetling eye- +brows. These had originally been brown, but the +sun had bleached them almost white in remarkable +contrast to his complexion. Eyes keen as sunlight +twinkled far down beneath the shadows of the brows +and a floppy old sombrero hat. The usual flannel +shirt, waistcoat, mountain-boots, and six-shooter +completed the outfit. He might have been forty, but +was probably nearer sixty years of age. + +"Howdy, boys," said he, and dropped to the +fireside, where he promptly annexed a coal for his pipe. + +We all greeted him, but gradually the talk fell +to him and Wes. It was commonplace talk enough +from one point of view: taken in essence it was +merely like the inquiry and answer of the civilized +man as to another's itinerary--"Did you visit Florence? +Berlin? St. Petersburg?"--and then the +comparing of impressions. Only here again that old +familiar magic of unfamiliar names threw its glamour +over the terse sentences. + +"Over beyond the Piute Monument," the old +prospector explained, "down through the Inyo +Range, a leetle north of Death Valley--" + +"Back in seventy-eight when I was up in Bay +Horse Canon over by Lost River--" + +"Was you ever over in th' Panamit Mountains? +--North of th' Telescope Range?"-- + +That was all there was to it, with long pauses for +drawing at the pipes. Yet somehow in the aggregate +that catalogue of names gradually established in the +minds of us two who listened an impression of long +years, of wide wilderness, of wandering far over the +face of the earth. The old man had wintered here, +summered a thousand miles away, made his strike +at one end of the world, lost it somehow, and cheerfully +tried for a repetition of his luck at the other. +I do not believe the possibility of wealth, though +always of course in the background, was ever near +enough his hope to be considered a motive for +action. Rather was it a dream, remote, something to +be gained to-morrow, but never to-day, like the mediaeval +Christian's idea of heaven. His interest was +in the search. For that one could see in him a real +enthusiasm. He had his smattering of theory, his +very real empirical knowledge, and his superstitions, +like all prospectors. So long as he could keep in +grub, own a little train of burros, and lead the life +he loved, he was happy. + +Perhaps one of the chief elements of this remarkable +interest in the game rather than the prizes of it +was his desire to vindicate his guesses or his conclusions. +He liked to predict to himself the outcome of +his solitary operations, and then to prove that +prediction through laborious days. His life was a +gigantic game of solitaire. In fact, he mentioned a +dozen of his claims many years apart which he had +developed to a certain point,--"so I could see what +they was,"--and then abandoned in favor of fresher +discoveries. He cherished the illusion that these were +properties to whose completion some day he would +return. But we knew better; he had carried them to +the point where the result was no longer in doubt +and then, like one who has no interest in playing on +in an evidently prescribed order, had laid his cards +on the table to begin a new game. + +This man was skilled in his profession; he had +pursued it for thirty odd years; he was frugal and +industrious; undoubtedly of his long series of +discoveries a fair percentage were valuable and are +producing-properties to-day. Yet he confessed his bank +balance to be less than five hundred dollars. Why +was this? Simply and solely because he did not care. +At heart it was entirely immaterial to him whether +he ever owned a dollar above his expenses. When +he sold his claims, he let them go easily, loath to +bother himself with business details, eager to get +away from the fuss and nuisance. The few hundred +dollars he received he probably sunk in unproductive +mining work, or was fleeced out of in the towns. +Then joyfully he turned back to his beloved mountains +and the life of his slow deep delight and his +pecking away before the open doors of fortune. By +and by he would build himself a little cabin down +in the lower pine mountains, where he would grow +a white beard, putter with occult wilderness crafts, +and smoke long contemplative hours in the sun before +his door. For tourists he would braid rawhide +reins and quirts, or make buckskin. The jays and +woodpeckers and Douglas squirrels would become +fond of him. So he would be gathered to his fathers, +a gentle old man whose life had been spent harmlessly +in the open. He had had his ideal to which +blindly he reached; he had in his indirect way +contributed the fruits of his labor to mankind; his +recompenses he had chosen according to his desires. +When you consider these things, you perforce have +to revise your first notion of him as a useless sort of +old ruffian. As you come to know him better, you +must love him for the kindliness, the simple honesty, +the modesty, and charity that he seems to draw from +his mountain environment. There are hundreds of +him buried in the great canons of the West. + +Our prospector was a little uncertain as to his +plans. Along toward autumn he intended to land at +some reputed placers near Dinkey Creek. There +might be something in that district. He thought he +would take a look. In the mean time he was just +poking up through the country--he and his jackasses. +Good way to spend the summer. Perhaps he might run +across something 'most anywhere; up near the top of +that mountain opposite looked mineralized. Didn't +know but what he'd take a look at her to-morrow. + +He camped near us during three days. I never +saw a more modest, self-effacing man. He seemed +genuinely, childishly, almost helplessly interested in +our fly-fishing, shooting, our bear-skins, and our +travels. You would have thought from his demeanor +--which was sincere and not in the least ironical-- +that he had never seen or heard anything quite like +that before, and was struck with wonder at it. Yet +he had cast flies before we were born, and shot even +earlier than he had cast a fly, and was a very +Ishmael for travel. Rarely could you get an account of +his own experiences, and then only in illustration +of something else. + +"If you-all likes bear-hunting," said he, "you +ought to get up in eastern Oregon. I summered +there once. The only trouble is, the brush is thick +as hair. You 'most always have to bait them, or +wait for them to come and drink. The brush is so +small you ain't got much chance. I run onto a she- +bear and cubs that way once. Didn't have nothin' +but my six-shooter, and I met her within six foot." + +He stopped with an air of finality. + +"Well, what did you do?" we asked. + +"Me?" he inquired, surprised. "Oh, I just leaked +out of th' landscape." + +He prospected the mountain opposite, loafed with +us a little, and then decided that he must be going. +About eight o'clock in the morning he passed us, +hazing his burros, his tall, lean figure elastic in +defiance of years. + +"So long, boys," he called; "good luck!" + +"So long," we responded heartily. "Be good to +yourself." + +He plunged into the river without hesitation, emerged +dripping on the other side, and disappeared in the +brush. From time to time during the rest of the morning +we heard the intermittent tinkling of his bell-animal +rising higher and higher above us on the trail. + +In the person of this man we gained our first +connection, so to speak, with the Golden Trout. He had +caught some of them, and could tell us of their habits. + +Few fishermen west of the Rockies have not heard +of the Golden Trout, though, equally, few have +much definite information concerning it. Such information +usually runs about as follows: + +It is a medium size fish of the true trout family, +resembling a rainbow except that it is of a rich +golden color. The peculiarity that makes its capture +a dream to be dreamed of is that it swims in but one +little stream of all the round globe. If you would +catch a Golden Trout, you must climb up under the +very base of the end of the High Sierras. There is +born a stream that flows down from an elevation of +about ten thousand feet to about eight thousand +before it takes a long plunge into a branch of the Kern +River. Over the twenty miles of its course you can +cast your fly for Golden Trout; but what is the nature +of that stream, that fish, or the method of its +capture, few can tell you with any pretense of accuracy. + +To be sure, there are legends. One, particularly +striking, claims that the Golden Trout occurs in one +other stream--situated in Central Asia!--and that +the fish is therefore a remnant of some pre-glacial +period, like Sequoia trees, a sort of grand-daddy of +all trout, as it were. This is but a sample of what +you will hear discussed. + +Of course from the very start we had had our eye +on the Golden Trout, and intended sooner or later +to work our way to his habitat. Our prospector had +just come from there. + +"It's about four weeks south, the way you and +me travels," said he. "You don't want to try +Harrison's Pass; it's chock full of tribulation. Go +around by way of the Giant Forest. She's pretty +good there, too, some sizable timber. Then over by +Redwood Meadows, and Timber Gap, by Mineral +King, and over through Farewell Gap. You turn +east there, on a new trail. She's steeper than straight- +up-an'-down, but shorter than the other. When you +get down in the canon of Kern River,--say, she's a +fine canon, too,--you want to go downstream about +two mile to where there's a sort of natural over- +flowed lake full of stubs stickin' up. You'll get +some awful big rainbows in there. Then your best +way is to go right up Whitney Creek Trail to a big +high meadows mighty nigh to timber-line. That's +where I camped. They's lots of them little yaller +fish there. Oh, they bite well enough. You'll catch +'em. They's a little shy." + +So in that guise--as the desire for new and distant +things--did our angel with the flaming sword +finally come to us. + +We caught reluctant horses reluctantly. All the +first day was to be a climb. We knew it; and I +suspect that they knew it too. Then we packed +and addressed ourselves to the task offered us by +the Basin Trail. + + + +ON CAMP COOKERY + +XIV + +ON CAMP COOKERY + +One morning I awoke a little before the others, +and lay on my back staring up through the +trees. It was not my day to cook. We were camped +at the time only about sixty-five hundred feet high, +and the weather was warm. Every sort of green thing +grew very lush all about us, but our own little space +was held dry and clear for us by the needles of two +enormous red cedars some four feet in diameter. A +variety of thoughts sifted through my mind as it +followed lazily the shimmering filaments of loose spider- +web streaming through space. The last thought stuck. +It was that that day was a holiday. Therefore I un- +limbered my six-shooter, and turned her loose, each +shot being accompanied by a meritorious yell. + +The outfit boiled out of its blankets. I explained +the situation, and after they had had some breakfast +they agreed with me that a celebration was in order. +Unanimously we decided to make it gastronomic. + +"We will ride till we get to good feed," we +concluded, "and then we'll cook all the afternoon. +And nobody must eat anything until the whole business +is prepared and served." + +It was agreed. We rode until we were very +hungry, which was eleven o'clock. Then we rode +some more. By and by we came to a log cabin in a +wide fair lawn below a high mountain with a ducal +coronet on its top, and around that cabin was a fence, +and inside the fence a man chopping wood. Him we +hailed. He came to the fence and grinned at us from +the elevation of high-heeled boots. By this token we +knew him for a cow-puncher. + +"How are you?" said we. + +"Howdy, boys," he roared. Roared is the accurate +expression. He was not a large man, and his hair +was sandy, and his eye mild blue. But undoubtedly +his kinsmen were dumb and he had as birthright the +voice for the entire family. It had been subsequently +developed in the shouting after the wild cattle of the +hills. Now his ordinary conversational tone was that +of the announcer at a circus. But his heart was good. + +"Can we camp here?" we inquired. + +"Sure thing," he bellowed. "Turn your horses +into the meadow. Camp right here." + +But with the vision of a rounded wooded knoll a +few hundred yards distant we said we'd just get out +of his way a little. We crossed a creek, mounted an +easy slope to the top of the knoll, and were delighted +to observe just below its summit the peculiar fresh +green hump which indicates a spring. The Tenderfoot, +however, knew nothing of springs, for shortly +he trudged a weary way back to the creek, and so +returned bearing kettles of water. This performance +hugely astonished the cowboy, who subsequently +wanted to know if a "critter had died in the spring." + +Wes departed to borrow a big Dutch oven of the +man and to invite him to come across when we raised +the long yell. Then we began operations. + +Now camp cooks are of two sorts. Anybody can +with a little practice fry bacon, steak, or flapjacks, and +boil coffee. The reduction of the raw material to its +most obvious cooked result is within the reach of all +but the most hopeless tenderfoot who never knows +the salt-sack from the sugar-sack. But your true artist +at the business is he who can from six ingredients, by +permutation, combination, and the genius that is in +him turn out a full score of dishes. For simple +example: GIVEN, rice, oatmeal, and raisins. Your expert +accomplishes the following: + +ITEM--Boiled rice. + +ITEM--Boiled oatmeal. + +ITEM--Rice boiled until soft, then stiffened by the +addition of quarter as much oatmeal. + +ITEM--Oatmeal in which is boiled almost to the +dissolving point a third as much rice. + +These latter two dishes taste entirely unlike each +other or their separate ingredients. They are moreover +great in nutrition. + +ITEM--Boiled rice and raisins. + +ITEM--Dish number three with raisins. + +ITEM--Rice boiled with raisins, sugar sprinkled on +top, and then baked. + +ITEM--Ditto with dish number three. + +All these are good--and different. + +Some people like to cook and have a natural knack for +it. Others hate it. If you are one of the former, +select a propitious moment to suggest that you will +cook, if the rest will wash the dishes and supply the +wood and water. Thus you will get first crack at the +fire in the chill of morning; and at night you can squat +on your heels doing light labor while the others rustle. + +In a mountain trip small stout bags for the +provisions are necessary. They should be big enough to +contain, say, five pounds of corn-meal, and should tie +firmly at the top. It will be absolutely labor lost for +you to mark them on the outside, as the outside soon +will become uniform in color with your marking. +Tags might do, if occasionally renewed. But if you +have the instinct, you will soon come to recognize +the appearance of the different bags as you recognize +the features of your family. They should contain +small quantities for immediate use of the provisions +the main stock of which is carried on another pack- +animal. One tin plate apiece and "one to grow on"; +the same of tin cups; half a dozen spoons; four +knives and forks; a big spoon; two frying-pans; a +broiler; a coffee-pot; a Dutch oven; and three light +sheet-iron pails to nest in one another was what we +carried on this trip. You see, we had horses. Of course +in the woods that outfit would be materially reduced. + +For the same reason, since we had our carrying +done for us, we took along two flat iron bars about +twenty-four inches in length. These, laid across two +stones between which the fire had been built, we +used to support our cooking-utensils stove-wise. I +should never carry a stove. This arrangement is +quite as effective, and possesses the added advantage +that wood does not have to be cut for it of any +definite length. Again, in the woods these iron bars +would be a senseless burden. But early you will +learn that while it is foolish to carry a single ounce +more than will pay in comfort or convenience for its +own transportation, it is equally foolish to refuse the +comforts or conveniences that modified circumstance +will permit you. To carry only a forest equipment +with pack-animals would be as silly as to carry only +a pack-animal outfit on a Pullman car. Only look +out that you do not reverse it. + +Even if you do not intend to wash dishes, bring +along some "Gold Dust." It is much simpler in +getting at odd corners of obstinate kettles than any +soap. All you have to do is to boil some of it in +that kettle, and the utensil is tamed at once. + +That's about all you, as expert cook, are going to +need in the way of equipment. Now as to your fire. + +There are a number of ways of building a cooking +fire, but they share one first requisite: it should +be small. A blaze will burn everything, including +your hands and your temper. Two logs laid side by +side and slanted towards each other so that small +things can go on the narrow end and big things on +the wide end; flat rocks arranged in the same manner; +a narrow trench in which the fire is built; and +the flat irons just described--these are the best- +known methods. Use dry wood. Arrange to do your +boiling first--in the flame; and your frying and +broiling last--after the flames have died to coals. + +So much in general. You must remember that +open-air cooking is in many things quite different +from indoor cooking. You have different utensils, +are exposed to varying temperatures, are limited in +resources, and pursued by a necessity of haste. Pre- +conceived notions must go by the board. You are +after results; and if you get them, do not mind the +feminines of your household lifting the hands of +horror over the unorthodox means. Mighty few women +I have ever seen were good camp-fire cooks; not +because camp-fire cookery is especially difficult, but +because they are temperamentally incapable of ridding +themselves of the notion that certain things +should be done in a certain way, and because if an +ingredient lacks, they cannot bring themselves to +substitute an approximation. They would rather +abandon the dish than do violence to the sacred art. + +Most camp-cookery advice is quite useless for the +same reason. I have seen many a recipe begin with +the words: "Take the yolks of four eggs, half a +cup of butter, and a cup of fresh milk--" As if +any one really camping in the wilderness ever had +eggs, butter, and milk! + +Now here is something I cooked for this particular +celebration. Every woman to whom I have ever described +it has informed me vehemently that it is not cake, +and must be "horrid." Perhaps it is not cake, but +it looks yellow and light, and tastes like cake. + +First I took two cups of flour, and a half cup of +corn-meal to make it look yellow. In this I mixed +a lot of baking-powder,--about twice what one +should use for bread,--and topped off with a cup of +sugar. The whole I mixed with water into a light +dough. Into the dough went raisins that had previously +been boiled to swell them up. Thus was the +cake mixed. Now I poured half the dough into the +Dutch oven, sprinkled it with a good layer of sugar, +cinnamon, and unboiled raisins; poured in the rest +of the dough; repeated the layer of sugar, cinnamon, +and raisins; and baked in the Dutch oven. It +was gorgeous, and we ate it at one fell swoop. + +While we are about it, we may as well work backwards +on this particular orgy by describing the rest of our +dessert. In addition to the cake and some stewed +apricots, I, as cook of the day, constructed also a pudding. + +The basis was flour--two cups of it. Into this I +dumped a handful of raisins, a tablespoonful of baking- +powder, two of sugar, and about a pound of fat +salt pork cut into little cubes. This I mixed up into +a mess by means of a cup or so of water and a +quantity of larrupy-dope.[3] Then I dipped a flour- +sack in hot water, wrung it out, sprinkled it with +dry flour, and half filled it with my pudding +mixture. The whole outfit I boiled for two hours in a +kettle. It, too, was good to the palate, and was even +better sliced and fried the following morning. + + +[3] Camp-lingo for any kind of syrup. + + +This brings us to the suspension of kettles. There +are two ways. If you are in a hurry, cut a springy +pole, sharpen one end, and stick it perpendicular in +the ground. Bend it down towards your fire. Hang +your kettle on the end of it. If you have jabbed it +far enough into the ground in the first place, it will +balance nicely by its own spring and the elasticity +of the turf. The other method is to plant two forked +sticks on either side your fire over which a strong +cross-piece is laid. The kettles are hung on hooks +cut from forked branches. The forked branches are +attached to the cross-piece by means of thongs or withes. + +On this occasion we had deer, grouse, and ducks +in the larder. The best way to treat them is as +follows. You may be sure we adopted the best way. + +When your deer is fresh, you will enjoy greatly a +dish of liver and bacon. Only the liver you will +discover to be a great deal tenderer and more delicate +than any calf's liver you ever ate. There is this +difference: a deer's liver should be parboiled in order +to get rid of a green bitter scum that will rise to the +surface and which you must skim off. + +Next in order is the "back strap" and tenderloin, +which is always tender, even when fresh. The hams +should be kept at least five days. Deer-steak, to my +notion, is best broiled, though occasionally it is +pleasant by way of variety to fry it. In that case a brown +gravy is made by thoroughly heating flour in the +grease, and then stirring in water. Deer-steak threaded +on switches and "barbecued" over the coals is delicious. +The outside will be a little blackened, but all +the juices will be retained. To enjoy this to the +utmost you should take it in your fingers and GNAW. +The only permissible implement is your hunting- +knife. Do not forget to peel and char slightly the +switches on which you thread the meat, otherwise +they will impart their fresh-wood taste. + +By this time the ribs are in condition. Cut little +slits between them, and through the slits thread in and +out long strips of bacon. Cut other little gashes, and +fill these gashes with onions chopped very fine. +Suspend the ribs across two stones between which +you have allowed a fire to die down to coals. + +There remain now the hams, shoulders, and heart. +The two former furnish steaks. The latter you will +make into a "bouillon." Here inserts itself quite +naturally the philosophy of boiling meat. It may be +stated in a paragraph. + +If you want boiled meat, put it in hot water. That +sets the juices. If you want soup, put it in cold water +and bring to a boil. That sets free the juices. +Remember this. + +Now you start your bouillon cold. Into a kettle +of water put your deer hearts, or your fish, a chunk +of pork, and some salt. Bring to a boil. Next drop +in quartered potatoes, several small whole onions, a +half cupful of rice, a can of tomatoes--if you have +any. Boil slowly for an hour or so--until things +pierce easily under the fork. Add several chunks of +bread and a little flour for thickening. Boil down to +about a chowder consistency, and serve hot. It is all +you will need for that meal; and you will eat of it +until there is no more. + +I am supposing throughout that you know enough +to use salt and pepper when needed. + +So much for your deer. The grouse you can split +and fry, in which case the brown gravy described +for the fried deer-steak is just the thing. Or you can +boil him. If you do that, put him into hot water, +boil slowly, skim frequently, and add dumplings +mixed of flour, baking-powder, and a little lard. Or +you can roast him in your Dutch oven with your ducks. + +Perhaps it might be well here to explain the Dutch +oven. It is a heavy iron kettle with little legs and +an iron cover. The theory of it is that coals go among +the little legs and on top of the iron cover. This heats +the inside, and so cooking results. That, you will +observe, is the theory. + +In practice you will have to remember a good +many things. In the first place, while other affairs are +preparing, lay the cover on the fire to heat it through; +but not on too hot a place nor too long, lest it warp +and so fit loosely. Also the oven itself is to be heated +through, and well greased. Your first baking will +undoubtedly be burned on the bottom. It is almost +impossible without many trials to understand just how +little heat suffices underneath. Sometimes it seems +that the warmed earth where the fire has been is +enough. And on top you do not want a bonfire. A +nice even heat, and patience, are the proper ingredients. +Nor drop into the error of letting your bread +chill, and so fall to unpalatable heaviness. Probably +for some time you will alternate between the extremes +of heavy crusts with doughy insides, and white +weighty boiler-plate with no distinguishable crusts at +all. Above all, do not lift the lid too often for the +sake of taking a look. Have faith. + +There are other ways of baking bread. In the North +Country forests, where you carry everything on your +back, you will do it in the frying-pan. The mixture +should be a rather thick batter or a rather thin dough. +It is turned into the frying-pan and baked first on one +side, then on the other, the pan being propped on +edge facing the fire. The whole secret of success is +first to set your pan horizontal and about three feet +from the fire in order that the mixture may be +thoroughly warmed--not heated--before the pan is +propped on edge. Still another way of baking is in +a reflector oven of tin. This is highly satisfactory, +provided the oven is built on the scientific angles to +throw the heat evenly on all parts of the bread-pan +and equally on top and bottom. It is not so easy as +you might imagine to get a good one made. These +reflectors are all right for a permanent camp, but too +fragile for transportation on pack-animals. + +As for bread, try it unleavened once in a while by +way of change. It is really very good,--just salt, +water, flour, and a very little sugar. For those who +like their bread "all crust," it is especially toothsome. +The usual camp bread that I have found the most +successful has been in the proportion of two cups of +flour to a teaspoonful of salt, one of sugar, and three +of baking-powder. Sugar or cinnamon sprinkled on +top is sometimes pleasant. Test by thrusting a splinter +into the loaf. If dough adheres to the wood, the +bread is not done. Biscuits are made by using twice +as much baking-powder and about two tablespoonfuls +of lard for shortening. They bake much more quickly +than the bread. Johnny-cake you mix of corn-meal +three cups, flour one cup, sugar four spoonfuls, salt +one spoonful, baking-powder four spoonfuls, and lard +twice as much as for biscuits. It also is good, very +good. + +The flapjack is first cousin to bread, very palatable, +and extremely indigestible when made of flour, as is +ordinarily done. However, the self-raising buckwheat +flour makes an excellent flapjack, which is likewise +good for your insides. The batter is rather thin, is +poured into the piping hot greased pan, "flipped" +when brown on one side, and eaten with larrupy-dope +or brown gravy. + +When you come to consider potatoes and beans +and onions and such matters, remember one thing: +that in the higher altitudes water boils at a low +temperature, and that therefore you must not expect your +boiled food to cook very rapidly. In fact, you'd +better leave beans at home. We did. Potatoes you can +sometimes tease along by quartering them. + +Rolled oats are better than oatmeal. Put them in +plenty of water and boil down to the desired consistency. +In lack of cream you will probably want it rather soft. + +Put your coffee into cold water, bring to a boil, let +boil for about two minutes, and immediately set off. +Settle by letting a half cup of cold water flow slowly +into the pot from the height of a foot or so. If your +utensils are clean, you will surely have good coffee +by this simple method. Of course you will never +boil your tea. + +The sun was nearly down when we raised our long +yell. The cow-puncher promptly responded. We ate. +Then we smoked. Then we basely left all our dishes +until the morrow, and followed our cow-puncher to +his log cabin, where we were to spend the evening. + +By now it was dark, and a bitter cold swooped +down from the mountains. We built a fire in a huge +stone fireplace and sat around in the flickering light +telling ghost-stories to one another. The place was +rudely furnished, with only a hard earthen floor, and +chairs hewn by the axe. Rifles, spurs, bits, revolvers, +branding-irons in turn caught the light and vanished +in the shadow. The skin of a bear looked at us from +hollow eye-sockets in which there were no eyes. We +talked of the Long Trail. Outside the wind, rising, +howled through the shakes of the roof. + + +ON THE WIND AT NIGHT + +XV + +ON THE WIND AT NIGHT + +The winds were indeed abroad that night. They +rattled our cabin, they shrieked in our eaves, +they puffed down our chimney, scattering the ashes +and leaving in the room a balloon of smoke as though +a shell had burst. When we opened the door and +stepped out, after our good-nights had been said, it +caught at our hats and garments as though it had +been lying in wait for us. + +To our eyes, fire-dazzled, the night seemed very +dark. There would be a moon later, but at present +even the stars seemed only so many pinpoints of +dull metal, lustreless, without illumination. We felt +our way to camp, conscious of the softness of grasses, +the uncertainty of stones. + +At camp the remains of the fire crouched beneath +the rating of the storm. Its embers glowed sullen +and red, alternately glaring with a half-formed resolution +to rebel, and dying to a sulky resignation. Once +a feeble flame sprang up for an instant, but was +immediately pounced on and beaten flat as though by +a vigilant antagonist. + +We, stumbling, gathered again our tumbled blankets. +Across the brow of the knoll lay a huge pine +trunk. In its shelter we respread our bedding, and +there, standing, dressed for the night. The power of +the wind tugged at our loose garments, hoping for +spoil. A towel, shaken by accident from the interior +of a sweater, departed white-winged, like a bird, into +the outer blackness. We found it next day caught +in the bushes several hundred yards distant. Our +voices as we shouted were snatched from our lips +and hurled lavishly into space. The very breath of +our bodies seemed driven back, so that as we faced +the elements, we breathed in gasps, with difficulty. + +Then we dropped down into our blankets. + +At once the prostrate tree-trunk gave us its +protection. We lay in a little back-wash of the racing +winds, still as a night in June. Over us roared the +battle. We felt like sharpshooters in the trenches; +as though, were we to raise our heads, at that instant +we should enter a zone of danger. So we lay quietly +on our backs and stared at the heavens. + +The first impression thence given was of stars +sailing serene and unaffected, remote from the +turbulence of what until this instant had seemed to fill +the universe. They were as always, just as we should +see them when the evening was warm and the tree-toads +chirped clearly audible at half a mile. The importance +of the tempest shrank. Then below them next we +noticed the mountains; they too were serene and calm. + +Immediately it was as though the storm were an +hallucination; something not objective; something +real, but within the soul of him who looked upon it. +It claimed sudden kinship with those blackest days +when nevertheless the sun, the mere external unimportant +sun, shines with superlative brilliancy. Emotions +of a power to shake the foundations of life +seemed vaguely to stir in answer to these their hollow +symbols. For after all, we were contented at heart +and tranquil in mind, and this was but the outer +gorgeous show of an intense emotional experience +we did not at the moment prove. Our nerves +responded to it automatically. We became excited, +keyed to a high tension, and so lay rigid on our +backs, as though fighting out the battles of our souls. + +It was all so unreal and yet so plain to our senses +that perforce automatically our experience had to +conclude it psychical. We were in air absolutely +still. Yet above us the trees writhed and twisted and +turned and bent and struck back, evidently in the +power of a mighty force. Across the calm heavens +the murk of flying atmosphere--I have always maintained +that if you looked closely enough you could +SEE the wind--the dim, hardly-made-out, fine debris +fleeing high in the air;--these faintly hinted at intense +movement rushing down through space. A roar of +sound filled the hollow of the sky. Occasionally it +intermitted, falling abruptly in volume like the +mysterious rare hushings of a rapid stream. Then the +familiar noises of a summer night became audible +for the briefest instant,--a horse sneezed, an owl +hooted, the wild call of birds came down the wind. +And with a howl the legions of good and evil took +up their warring. It was too real, and yet it was not +reconcilable with the calm of our resting-places. + +For hours we lay thus in all the intensity of an +inner storm and stress, which it seemed could not +fail to develop us, to mould us, to age us, to leave +on us its scars, to bequeath us its peace or remorse or +despair, as would some great mysterious dark experience +direct from the sources of life. And then +abruptly we were exhausted, as we should have been +by too great emotion. We fell asleep. The morning +dawned still and clear, and garnished and set in +order as though such things had never been. Only +our white towel fluttered like a flag of truce in the +direction the mighty elements had departed. + + + +THE VALLEY + +XVI + +THE VALLEY + +Once upon a time I happened to be staying in +a hotel room which had originally been part +of a suite, but which was then cut off from the others +by only a thin door through which sounds carried +clearly. It was about eleven o'clock in the evening. +The occupants of that next room came home. I +heard the door open and close. Then the bed +shrieked aloud as somebody fell heavily upon it. +There breathed across the silence a deep restful sigh. + +"Mary," said a man's voice, "I'm mighty sorry I +didn't join that Association for Artificial Vacations. +They guarantee to get you just as tired and just as +mad in two days as you could by yourself in two weeks." + +We thought of that one morning as we descended +the Glacier Point Trail in Yosemite. + +The contrast we need not have made so sharp. +We might have taken the regular wagon-road by +way of Chinquapin, but we preferred to stick to the +trail, and so encountered our first sign of civilization +within an hundred yards of the brink. It, the +sign, was tourists. They were male and female, as +the Lord had made them, but they had improved on +that idea since. The women were freckled, hatted +with alpines, in which edelweiss--artificial, I think +--flowered in abundance; they sported severely +plain flannel shirts, bloomers of an aggressive and +unnecessary cut, and enormous square boots weighing +pounds. The men had on hats just off the sunbonnet +effect, pleated Norfolk jackets, bloomers ditto ditto to +the women, stockings whose tops rolled over innumerable +times to help out the size of that which they +should have contained, and also enormous square +boots. The female children they put in skin-tight +blue overalls. The male children they dressed in +bloomers. Why this should be I cannot tell you. All +carried toy hatchets with a spike on one end built to +resemble the pictures of alpenstocks. + +They looked business-like, trod with an assured +air of veterans and a seeming of experience more +extended than it was possible to pack into any one +human life. We stared at them, our eyes bulging +out. They painfully and evidently concealed a +curiosity as to our pack-train. We wished them good-day, +in order to see to what language heaven had fitted +their extraordinary ideas as regards raiment. They +inquired the way to something or other--I think +Sentinel Dome. We had just arrived, so we did not +know, but in order to show a friendly spirit we +blandly pointed out A way. It may have led to Sentinel +Dome for all I know. They departed uttering +thanks in human speech. + +Now this particular bunch of tourists was evidently +staying at the Glacier Point, and so was fresh. But +in the course of that morning we descended straight +down a drop of, is it four thousand feet? The trail +was steep and long and without water. During the +descent we passed first and last probably twoscore +of tourists, all on foot. A good half of them were +delicate women,--young, middle-aged, a few gray- +haired and evidently upwards of sixty. There were +also old men, and fat men, and men otherwise out of +condition. Probably nine out of ten, counting in the +entire outfit, were utterly unaccustomed, when at +home where grow street-cars and hansoms, to even +the mildest sort of exercise. They had come into the +Valley, whose floor is over four thousand feet up, +without the slightest physical preparation for the +altitude. They had submitted to the fatigue of a long +and dusty stage journey. And then they had merrily +whooped it up at a gait which would have appalled +seasoned old stagers like ourselves. Those blessed +lunatics seemed positively unhappy unless they +climbed up to some new point of view every day. +I have never seen such a universally tired out, +frazzled, vitally exhausted, white-faced, nervous +community in my life as I did during our four days' +stay in the Valley. Then probably they go away, +and take a month to get over it, and have queer +residual impressions of the trip. I should like to know +what those impressions really are. + +Not but that Nature has done everything in her +power to oblige them. The things I am about to say +are heresy, but I hold them true. + +Yosemite is not as interesting nor as satisfying +to me as some of the other big box canons, like +those of the Tehipite, the Kings in its branches, or +the Kaweah. I will admit that its waterfalls are +better. Otherwise it possesses no features which are +not to be seen in its sister valleys. And there is +this difference. In Yosemite everything is jumbled +together, apparently for the benefit of the tourist +with a linen duster and but three days' time at his +disposal. He can turn from the cliff-headland to the +dome, from the dome to the half dome, to the glacier +formation, the granite slide and all the rest of it, +with hardly the necessity of stirring his feet. Nature +has put samples of all her works here within reach +of his cataloguing vision. Everything is crowded in +together, like a row of houses in forty-foot lots. The +mere things themselves are here in profusion and +wonder, but the appropriate spacing, the approach, +the surrounding of subordinate detail which should +lead in artistic gradation to the supreme feature-- +these things, which are a real and essential part of +esthetic effect, are lacking utterly for want of room. +The place is not natural scenery; it is a junk-shop, a +storehouse, a sample-room wherein the elements of +natural scenery are to be viewed. It is not an arrangement +of effects in accordance with the usual laws of +landscape, but an abnormality, a freak of Nature. + +All these things are to be found elsewhere. There +are cliffs which to the naked eye are as grand as El +Capitan; domes, half domes, peaks as noble as any +to be seen in the Valley; sheer drops as breath-taking +as that from Glacier Point. But in other places +each of these is led up to appropriately, and stands +the central and satisfying feature to which all other +things look. Then you journey on from your cliff, or +whatever it happens to be, until, at just the right +distance, so that it gains from the presence of its +neighbor without losing from its proximity, a dome or a +pinnacle takes to itself the right of prominence. I +concede the waterfalls; but in other respects I prefer +the sister valleys. + +That is not to say that one should not visit +Yosemite; nor that one will be disappointed. It is grand +beyond any possible human belief; and no one, even +a nerve-frazzled tourist, can gaze on it without the +strongest emotion. Only it is not so intimately satisfying +as it should be. It is a show. You do not take +it into your heart. "Whew!" you cry. "Isn't that +a wonder!" then after a moment, "Looks just like +the photographs. Up to sample. Now let's go." + +As we descended the trail, we and the tourists +aroused in each other a mutual interest. One husband +was trying to encourage his young and handsome wife +to go on. She was beautifully dressed for the part +in a marvelous, becoming costume of whipcord-- +short skirt, high laced elkskin boots and the rest of it; +but in all her magnificence she had sat down on the +ground, her back to the cliff, her legs across the trail, +and was so tired out that she could hardly muster +interest enough to pull them in out of the way of +our horses' hoofs. The man inquired anxiously of +us how far it was to the top. Now it was a long +distance to the top, but a longer to the bottom, so we +lied a lie that I am sure was immediately forgiven +us, and told them it was only a short climb. I should +have offered them the use of Bullet, but Bullet had +come far enough, and this was only one of a dozen +such cases. In marked contrast was a jolly white- +haired clergyman of the bishop type who climbed +vigorously and hailed us with a shout. + +The horses were decidedly unaccustomed to any +such sights, and we sometimes had our hands full +getting them by on the narrow way. The trail was +safe enough, but it did have an edge, and that edge +jumped pretty straight off. It was interesting to +observe how the tourists acted. Some of them were +perfect fools, and we had more trouble with them +than we did with the horses. They could not seem +to get the notion into their heads that all we wanted +them to do was to get on the inside and stand still. +About half of them were terrified to death, so that +at the crucial moment, just as a horse was passing +them, they had little fluttering panics that called the +beast's attention. Most of the remainder tried to be +bold and help. They reached out the hand of +assistance toward the halter rope; the astonished animal +promptly snorted, tried to turn around, cannoned +against the next in line. Then there was a mix-up. +Two tall clean-cut well-bred looking girls of our slim +patrician type offered us material assistance. They +seemed to understand horses, and got out of the way +in the proper manner, did just the right thing, and +made sensible suggestions. I offer them my homage. + +They spoke to us as though they had penetrated +the disguise of long travel, and could see we were +not necessarily members of Burt Alvord's gang. +This phase too of our descent became increasingly +interesting to us, a species of gauge by which we +measured the perceptions of those we encountered. +Most did not speak to us at all. Others responded +to our greetings with a reserve in which was more +than a tinge of distrust. Still others patronized us. +A very few overlooked our faded flannel shirts, our +soiled trousers, our floppy old hats with their +rattlesnake bands, the wear and tear of our equipment, to +respond to us heartily. Them in return we generally +perceived to belong to our totem. + +We found the floor of the Valley well sprinkled +with campers. They had pitched all kinds of tents; +built all kinds of fancy permanent conveniences; +erected all kinds of banners and signs advertising +their identity, and were generally having a nice, easy, +healthful, jolly kind of a time up there in the +mountains. Their outfits they had either brought in with +their own wagons, or had had freighted. The store +near the bend of the Merced supplied all their needs. +It was truly a pleasant sight to see so many people +enjoying themselves, for they were mostly those in +moderate circumstances to whom a trip on tourist +lines would be impossible. We saw bakers' and +grocers' and butchers' wagons that had been pressed +into service. A man, his wife, and little baby had +come in an ordinary buggy, the one horse of which, +led by the man, carried the woman and baby to the +various points of interest. + +We reported to the official in charge, were allotted +a camping and grazing place, and proceeded to make +ourselves at home. + +During the next two days we rode comfortably +here and there and looked at things. The things +could not be spoiled, but their effect was very +materially marred by the swarms of tourists. Sometimes +they were silly, and cracked inane and obvious jokes +in ridicule of the grandest objects they had come so +far to see; sometimes they were detestable and left +their insignificant calling-cards or their unimportant +names where nobody could ever have any object in +reading them; sometimes they were pathetic and +helpless and had to have assistance; sometimes +they were amusing; hardly ever did they seem +entirely human. I wonder what there is about the +traveling public that seems so to set it apart, to make +of it at least a sub-species of mankind? + +Among other things, we were vastly interested in +the guides. They were typical of this sort of thing. +Each morning one of these men took a pleasantly +awe-stricken band of tourists out, led them around in +the brush awhile, and brought them back in time for +lunch. They wore broad hats and leather bands +and exotic raiment and fierce expressions, and looked +dark and mysterious and extra-competent over the +most trivial of difficulties. + +Nothing could be more instructive than to see two +or three of these imitation bad men starting out in +the morning to "guide" a flock, say to Nevada Falls. +The tourists, being about to mount, have outdone +themselves in weird and awesome clothes--especially +the women. Nine out of ten wear their stirrups +too short, so their knees are hunched up. One guide +rides at the head--great deal of silver spur, clanking +chain, and the rest of it. Another rides in the rear. +The third rides up and down the line, very gruff, +very preoccupied, very careworn over the dangers +of the way. The cavalcade moves. It proceeds for +about a mile. There arise sudden cries, great but +subdued excitement. The leader stops, raising a +commanding hand. Guide number three gallops up. +There is a consultation. The cinch-strap of the brindle +shave-tail is taken up two inches. A catastrophe +has been averted. The noble three look volumes of +relief. The cavalcade moves again. + +Now the trail rises. It is a nice, safe, easy trail. +But to the tourists it is made terrible. The noble +three see to that. They pass more dangers by the +exercise of superhuman skill than you or I could +discover in a summer's close search. The joke of the +matter is that those forty-odd saddle-animals have +been over that trail so many times that one would +have difficulty in heading them off from it once they +got started. + +Very much the same criticism would hold as to +the popular notion of the Yosemite stage-drivers. +They drive well, and seem efficient men. But their +wonderful reputation would have to be upheld on +rougher roads than those into the Valley. The tourist +is, of course, encouraged to believe that he is doing +the hair-breadth escape; but in reality, as mountain +travel goes, the Yosemite stage-road is very mild. + +This that I have been saying is not by way of +depreciation. But it seems to me that the Valley is +wonderful enough to stand by itself in men's appreciation +without the unreality of sickly sentimentalism +in regard to imaginary dangers, or the histrionics of +playing wilderness where no wilderness exists. + +As we went out, this time by the Chinquapin +wagon-road, we met one stage-load after another of +tourists coming in. They had not yet donned the +outlandish attire they believe proper to the occasion, +and so showed for what they were,--prosperous, +well-bred, well-dressed travelers. In contrast to their +smartness, the brilliancy of new-painted stages, the +dash of the horses maintained by the Yosemite Stage +Company, our own dusty travel-worn outfit of mountain +ponies, our own rough clothes patched and +faded, our sheath-knives and firearms seemed out of +place and curious, as though a knight in medieval +armor were to ride down Broadway. + +I do not know how many stages there were. We +turned our pack-horses out for them all, dashing back +and forth along the line, coercing the diabolical +Dinkey. The road was too smooth. There were no +obstructions to surmount; no dangers to avert; no +difficulties to avoid. We could not get into trouble, +but proceeded as on a county turnpike. Too tame, +too civilized, too representative of the tourist +element, it ended by getting on our nerves. The +wilderness seemed to have left us forever. Never would +we get back to our own again. After a long time +Wes, leading, turned into our old trail branching off +to the high country. Hardly had we traveled a half +mile before we heard from the advance guard a crash +and a shout. + +"What is it, Wes?" we yelled. + +In a moment the reply came,-- + +"Lily's fallen down again,--thank God!" + +We understood what he meant. By this we knew +that the tourist zone was crossed, that we had left +the show country, and were once more in the open. + + + +XVII + +THE MAIN CREST + +The traveler in the High Sierras generally keeps +to the west of the main crest. Sometimes he +approaches fairly to the foot of the last slope; +sometimes he angles away and away even down to what +finally seems to him a lower country,--to the pine +mountains of only five or six thousand feet. But +always to the left or right of him, according to whether +he travels south or north, runs the rampart of the +system, sometimes glittering with snow, sometimes +formidable and rugged with splinters and spires of +granite. He crosses spurs and tributary ranges as high, +as rugged, as snow-clad as these. They do not quite +satisfy him. Over beyond he thinks he ought to see +something great,--some wide outlook, some space +bluer than his trail can offer him. One day or +another he clamps his decision, and so turns aside for +the simple and only purpose of standing on the top +of the world. + +We were bitten by that idea while crossing the +Granite Basin. The latter is some ten thousand feet +in the air, a cup of rock five or six miles across, +surrounded by mountains much higher than itself. That +would have been sufficient for most moods, but, +resting on the edge of a pass ten thousand six hundred +feet high, we concluded that we surely would have +to look over into Nevada. + +We got out the map. It became evident, after a +little study, that by descending six thousand feet into +a box canon, proceeding in it a few miles, and +promptly climbing out again, by climbing steadily +up the long narrow course of another box canon for +about a day and a half's journey, and then climbing +out of that to a high ridge country with little flat +valleys, we would come to a wide lake in a meadow +eleven thousand feet up. There we could camp. +The mountain opposite was thirteen thousand three +hundred and twenty feet, so the climb from the +lake became merely a matter of computation. This, +we figured, would take us just a week, which may +seem a considerable time to sacrifice to the gratification +of a whim. But such a glorious whim! + +We descended the great box canon, and scaled its +upper end, following near the voices of a cascade. +Cliffs thousands of feet high hemmed us in. At the +very top of them strange crags leaned out looking +down on us in the abyss. From a projection a colossal +sphinx gazed solemnly across at a dome as smooth +and symmetrical as, but vastly larger than, St. Peter's +at Rome. + +The trail labored up to the brink of the cascade. +At once we entered a long narrow aisle between regular +palisaded cliffs. + +The formation was exceedingly regular. At the +top the precipice fell sheer for a thousand feet or so; +then the steep slant of the debris, like buttresses, +down almost to the bed of the river. The lower parts +of the buttresses were clothed with heavy chaparral, +which, nearer moisture, developed into cottonwoods, +alders, tangled vines, flowers, rank grasses. And away +on the very edge of the cliffs, close under the sky, +were pines, belittled by distance, solemn and aloof, +like Indian warriors wrapped in their blankets watching +from an eminence the passage of a hostile force. + +We caught rainbow trout in the dashing white +torrent of the river. We followed the trail through +delicious thickets redolent with perfume; over the +roughest granite slides, along still dark aisles of forest +groves, between the clefts of boulders so monstrous +as almost to seem an insult to the credulity. Among +the chaparral, on the slope of the buttress across the +river, we made out a bear feeding. Wes and I sat +ten minutes waiting for him to show sufficiently +for a chance. Then we took a shot at about four +hundred yards, and hit him somewhere so he angled +down the hill furiously. We left the Tenderfoot to +watch that he did not come out of the big thicket of +the river bottom where last we had seen him, while +we scrambled upstream nearly a mile looking for a +way across. Then we trailed him by the blood, each +step one of suspense, until we fairly had to crawl in +after him; and shot him five times more, three in the +head, before he gave up not six feet from us; and +shouted gloriously and skinned that bear. But the +meat was badly bloodshot, for there were three bullets +in the head, two in the chest and shoulders, one +through the paunch, and one in the hind quarters. + +Since we were much in want of meat, this grieved +us. But that noon while we ate, the horses ran down +toward us, and wheeled, as though in cavalry formation, +looking toward the hill and snorting. So I put +down my tin plate gently, and took up my rifle, and +without rising shot that bear through the back of the +neck. We took his skin, and also his hind quarters, +and went on. + +By the third day from Granite Basin we reached +the end of the long narrow canon with the high cliffs +and the dark pine-trees and the very blue sky. +Therefore we turned sharp to the left and climbed +laboriously until we had come up into the land of +big boulders, strange spare twisted little trees, and +the singing of the great wind. + +The country here was mainly of granite. It out- +cropped in dikes, it slid down the slopes in aprons, +it strewed the prospect in boulders and blocks, it +seamed the hollows with knife-ridges. Soil gave the +impression of having been laid on top; you divined +the granite beneath it, and not so very far beneath it, +either. A fine hair-grass grew close to this soil, as +though to produce as many blades as possible in the +limited area. + +But strangest of all were the little thick twisted +trees with the rich shaded umber color of their trunks. +They occurred rarely, but still in sufficient regularity +to lend the impression of a scattered grove- +cohesiveness. Their limbs were sturdy and reaching +fantastically. On each trunk the colors ran in streaks, +patches, and gradations from a sulphur yellow, +through browns and red-orange, to a rich red-umber. +They were like the earth-dwarfs of German legend, +come out to view the roof of their workshop in the +interior of the hill; or, more subtly, like some of the +more fantastic engravings of Gustave Dore. + +We camped that night at a lake whose banks +were pebbled in the manner of an artificial pond, and +whose setting was a thin meadow of the fine hair- +grass, for the grazing of which the horses had to bare +their teeth. All about, the granite mountains rose. +The timber-line, even of the rare shrub-like gnome- +trees, ceased here. Above us was nothing whatever +but granite rock, snow, and the sky. + +It was just before dusk, and in the lake the fish +were jumping eagerly. They took the fly well, and +before the fire was alight we had caught three for +supper. When I say we caught but three, you will +understand that they were of good size. Firewood +was scarce, but we dragged in enough by means of +Old Slob and a riata to build us a good fire. And +we needed it, for the cold descended on us with the +sharpness and vigor of eleven thousand feet. + +For such an altitude the spot was ideal. The lake +just below us was full of fish. A little stream ran +from it by our very elbows. The slight elevation was +level, and covered with enough soil to offer a fairly +good substructure for our beds. The flat in which +was the lake reached on up narrower and narrower to +the foot of the last slope, furnishing for the horses an +admirable natural corral about a mile long. And the +view was magnificent. + +First of all there were the mountains above us, +towering grandly serene against the sky of morning; +then all about us the tumultuous slabs and boulders +and blocks of granite among which dare-devil and +hardy little trees clung to a footing as though in +defiance of some great force exerted against them; then +below us a sheer drop, into which our brook plunged, +with its suggestion of depths; and finally beyond those +depths the giant peaks of the highest Sierras rising +lofty as the sky, shrouded in a calm and stately peace. + +Next day the Tenderfoot and I climbed to the +top. Wes decided at the last minute that he hadn't +lost any mountains, and would prefer to fish. + +The ascent was accompanied by much breathlessness +and a heavy pounding of our hearts, so that we +were forced to stop every twenty feet to recover our +physical balance. Each step upward dragged at our +feet like a leaden weight. Yet once we were on the +level, or once we ceased our very real exertions for a +second or so, the difficulty left us, and we breathed +as easily as in the lower altitudes. + +The air itself was of a quality impossible to +describe to you unless you have traveled in the high +countries. I know it is trite to say that it had the +exhilaration of wine, yet I can find no better simile. +We shouted and whooped and breathed deep and +wanted to do things. + +The immediate surroundings of that mountain +peak were absolutely barren and absolutely still. +How it was accomplished so high up I do not know, +but the entire structure on which we moved--I cannot +say walked--was composed of huge granite +slabs. Sometimes these were laid side by side like +exaggerated paving flags; but oftener they were up- +ended, piled in a confusion over which we had +precariously to scramble. And the silence. It was so +still that the very ringing in our ears came to a +prominence absurd and almost terrifying. The wind +swept by noiseless, because it had nothing movable to +startle into noise. The solid eternal granite lay heavy +in its statics across the possibility of even a whisper. +The blue vault of heaven seemed emptied of sound. + +But the wind did stream by unceasingly, weird +in the unaccustomedness of its silence. And the sky +was blue as a turquoise, and the sun burned fiercely, +and the air was cold as the water of a mountain spring. + +We stretched ourselves behind a slab of granite, +and ate the luncheon we had brought, cold venison +steak and bread. By and by a marvelous thing +happened. A flash of wings sparkled in the air, a brave +little voice challenged us cheerily, a pert tiny rock- +wren flirted his tail and darted his wings and wanted +to know what we were thinking of anyway to enter +his especial territory. And shortly from nowhere +appeared two Canada Jays, silent as the wind itself, +hoping for a share in our meal. Then the Tenderfoot +discovered in a niche some strange, hardy alpine +flowers. So we established a connection, through these +wondrous brave children of the great mother, with +the world of living things. + +After we had eaten, which was the very first thing +we did, we walked to the edge of the main crest and +looked over. That edge went straight down. I do +not know how far, except that even in contemplation +we entirely lost our breaths, before we had fallen half +way to the bottom. Then intervened a ledge, and in +the ledge was a round glacier lake of the very deepest +and richest ultramarine you can find among your +paint-tubes, and on the lake floated cakes of +dazzling white ice. That was enough for the moment. + +Next we leaped at one bound direct down to some +brown hazy liquid shot with the tenderest filaments +of white. After analysis we discovered the hazy +brown liquid to be the earth of the plains, and the +filaments of white to be roads. Thus instructed we +made out specks which were towns. That was all. + +The rest was too insignificant to classify without the +aid of a microscope. + +And afterwards, across those plains, oh, many, +many leagues, were the Inyo and Panamit mountains, +and beyond them Nevada and Arizona, and +blue mountains, and bluer, and still bluer rising, +rising, rising higher and higher until at the level of the +eye they blended with the heavens and were lost +somewhere away out beyond the edge of the world. + +We said nothing, but looked for a long time. +Then we turned inland to the wonderful great titans +of mountains clear-cut in the crystalline air. Never +was such air. Crystalline is the only word which will +describe it, for almost it seemed that it would ring +clearly when struck, so sparkling and delicate and +fragile was it. The crags and fissures across the +way--two miles across the way--were revealed +through it as through some medium whose transparence +was absolute. They challenged the eye, stereoscopic +in their relief. Were it not for the belittling +effects of the distance, we felt that we might count +the frost seams or the glacial scorings on every granite +apron. Far below we saw the irregular outline +of our lake. It looked like a pond a few hundred +feet down. Then we made out a pin-point of white +moving leisurely near its border. After a while we +realized that the pin-point of white was one of +our pack-horses, and immediately the flat little scene +shot backwards as though moved from behind and +acknowledged its due number of miles. The miniature +crags at its back became gigantic; the peaks +beyond grew thousands of feet in the establishment +of a proportion which the lack of "atmosphere" had +denied. We never succeeded in getting adequate +photographs. As well take pictures of any eroded +little arroyo or granite canon. Relative sizes do not +exist, unless pointed out. + +"See that speck there?" we explain. "That's a +big pine-tree. So by that you can see how tremendous +those cliffs really are." + +And our guest looks incredulously at the speck. + +There was snow, of course, lying cold in the hot +sun. This phenomenon always impresses a man when +first he sees it. Often I have ridden with my sleeves +rolled up and the front of my shirt open, over drifts +whose edges, even, dripped no water. The direct +rays seem to have absolutely no effect. A scientific +explanation I have never heard expressed; but I +suppose the cold nights freeze the drifts and pack +them so hard that the short noon heat cannot penetrate +their density. I may be quite wrong as to my +reason, but I am entirely correct as to my fact. + +Another curious thing is that we met our mosquitoes +only rarely below the snow-line. The camping +in the Sierras is ideal for lack of these pests. They +never bite hard nor stay long even when found. But +just as sure as we approached snow, then we renewed +acquaintance with our old friends of the north woods. + +It is analogous to the fact that the farther north you +go into the fur countries, the more abundant they become. + +By and by it was time to descend. The camp lay +directly below us. We decided to go to it straight, +and so stepped off on an impossibly steep slope +covered, not with the great boulders and granite blocks, +but with a fine loose shale. At every stride we +stepped ten feet and slid five. It was gloriously near +to flying. Leaning far back, our arms spread wide to +keep our balance, spying alertly far ahead as to where +we were going to land, utterly unable to check until +we encountered a half-buried ledge of some sort, and +shouting wildly at every plunge, we fairly shot +downhill. The floor of our valley rose to us as the earth +to a descending balloon. In three quarters of an hour +we had reached the first flat. + +There we halted to puzzle over the trail of a mountain +lion clearly printed on the soft ground. What +had the great cat been doing away up there above +the hunting country, above cover, above everything +that would appeal to a well-regulated cat of any size +whatsoever? We theorized at length, but gave it +up finally, and went on. Then a familiar perfume +rose to our nostrils. We plucked curiously at a bed +of catnip and wondered whether the animal had +journeyed so far to enjoy what is always such a treat to +her domestic sisters. + +It was nearly dark when we reached camp. We +found Wes contentedly scraping away at the bearskins. + +"Hello," said he, looking up with a grin. "Hello, +you dam fools! I'VE been having a good time. I've +been fishing." + + + +THE GIANT FOREST + +XVIII + +THE GIANT FOREST + +Every one is familiar, at least by reputation and +photograph, with the Big Trees of California. +All have seen pictures of stage-coaches driving in +passageways cut through the bodies of the trunks; +of troops of cavalry ridden on the prostrate trees. No +one but has heard of the dancing-floor or the dinner- +table cut from a single cross-section; and probably +few but have seen some of the fibrous bark of +unbelievable thickness. The Mariposa, Calaveras, and +Santa Cruz groves have become household names. + +The public at large, I imagine, meaning by that +you and me and our neighbors, harbor an idea that +the Big Tree occurs only as a remnant, in scattered +little groves carefully fenced and piously visited by +the tourist. What would we have said to the information +that in the very heart of the Sierras there grows +a thriving forest of these great trees; that it takes +over a day to ride throughout that forest; and that +it comprises probably over five thousand specimens? + +Yet such is the case. On the ridges and high +plateaus north of the Kaweah River is the forest I +describe; and of that forest the trees grow from fifteen +to twenty-six feet in diameter. Do you know what +that means? Get up from your chair and pace off +the room you are in. If it is a very big room, its +longest dimension would just about contain one of the +bigger trunks. Try to imagine a tree like that. + +It must be a columnar tree straight and true as the +supports of a Greek facade. The least deviation from +the perpendicular of such a mass would cause it to +fall. The limbs are sturdy like the arms of Hercules, +and grow out from the main trunk direct instead of +dividing and leading that main trunk to themselves, +as is the case with other trees. The column rises with +a true taper to its full height; then is finished with +the conical effect of the top of a monument. +Strangely enough the frond is exceedingly fine, and +the cones small. + +When first you catch sight of a Sequoia, it does +not impress you particularly except as a very fine +tree. Its proportions are so perfect that its effect is +rather to belittle its neighbors than to show in its true +magnitude. Then, gradually, as your experience +takes cognizance of surroundings,--the size of a +sugar-pine, of a boulder, of a stream flowing near,-- +the giant swells and swells before your very vision +until he seems at the last even greater than the mere +statistics of his inches had led you to believe. And +after that first surprise over finding the Sequoia +something not monstrous but beautiful in proportion has +given place to the full realization of what you are +beholding, you will always wonder why no one who +has seen has ever given any one who has not seen an +adequate idea of these magnificent old trees. + +Perhaps the most insistent note, besides that of +mere size and dignity, is of absolute stillness. These +trees do not sway to the wind, their trunks are +constructed to stand solid. Their branches do not bend +and murmur, for they too are rigid in fiber. Their +fine thread-like needles may catch the breeze's whisper, +may draw together and apart for the exchange +of confidences as do the leaves of other trees, but if +so, you and I are too far below to distinguish it. +All about, the other forest growths may be rustling +and bowing and singing with the voices of the air; +the Sequoia stands in the hush of an absolute calm. +It is as though he dreamed, too wrapt in still great +thoughts of his youth, when the earth itself was +young, to share the worldlier joys of his neighbor, to +be aware of them, even himself to breathe deeply. +You feel in the presence of these trees as you would +feel in the presence of a kindly and benignant sage, +too occupied with larger things to enter fully into +your little affairs, but well disposed in the wisdom +of clear spiritual insight. + +This combination of dignity, immobility, and a +certain serene detachment has on me very much the +same effect as does a mountain against the sky. It is +quite unlike the impression made by any other tree, +however large, and is lovable. + +We entered the Giant Forest by a trail that +climbed. Always we entered desirable places by +trails that climbed or dropped. Our access to +paradise was never easy. About halfway up we met five +pack-mules and two men coming down. For some +reason, unknown, I suspect, even to the god of +chance, our animals behaved themselves and walked +straight ahead in a beautiful dignity, while those +weak-minded mules scattered and bucked and scraped +under trees and dragged back on their halters when +caught. The two men cast on us malevolent glances +as often as they were able, but spent most of their +time swearing and running about. We helped them +once or twice by heading off, but were too thankfully +engaged in treading lightly over our own phenomenal +peace to pay much attention. Long after +we had gone on, we caught bursts of rumpus ascending +from below. Shortly we came to a comparatively +level country, and a little meadow, and a rough sign +which read + + +"Feed 20C a night." + + +Just beyond this extortion was the Giant Forest. + +We entered it toward the close of the afternoon, +and rode on after our wonted time looking for feed +at less than twenty cents a night. The great trunks, +fluted like marble columns, blackened against the +western sky. As they grew huger, we seemed to +shrink, until we moved fearful as prehistoric man +must have moved among the forces over which he +had no control. We discovered our feed in a narrow +"stringer" a few miles on. That night, we, pigmies, +slept in the setting before which should have stridden +the colossi of another age. Perhaps eventually, in +spite of its magnificence and wonder, we were a little +glad to leave the Giant Forest. It held us too rigidly +to a spiritual standard of which our normal lives were +incapable; it insisted on a loftiness of soul, a dignity, +an aloofness from the ordinary affairs of life, the +ordinary occupations of thought hardly compatible with +the powers of any creature less noble, less aged, less +wise in the passing of centuries than itself. + + + +XIX + +ON COWBOYS + +Your cowboy is a species variously subdivided. +If you happen to be traveled as to the wild +countries, you will be able to recognize whence +your chance acquaintance hails by the kind of saddle +he rides, and the rigging of it; by the kind of rope +he throws, and the method of the throwing; by the +shape of hat he wears; by his twist of speech; even +by the very manner of his riding. Your California +"vaquero" from the Coast Ranges is as unlike as +possible to your Texas cowman, and both differ from +the Wyoming or South Dakota article. I should be +puzzled to define exactly the habitat of the "typical" +cowboy. No matter where you go, you will find +your individual acquaintance varying from the type +in respect to some of the minor details. + +Certain characteristics run through the whole tribe, +however. Of these some are so well known or have +been so adequately done elsewhere that it hardly +seems wise to elaborate on them here. Let us assume +that you and I know what sort of human beings cowboys +are,--with all their taciturnity, their surface +gravity, their keen sense of humor, their courage, +their kindness, their freedom, their lawlessness, their +foulness of mouth, and their supreme skill in the +handling of horses and cattle. I shall try to tell you +nothing of all that. + +If one thinks down doggedly to the last analysis, +he will find that the basic reason for the differences +between a cowboy and other men rests finally on +an individual liberty, a freedom from restraint either +of society or convention, a lawlessness, an accepting +of his own standard alone. He is absolutely self- +poised and sufficient; and that self-poise and that +sufficiency he takes pains to assure first of all. After +their assurance he is willing to enter into human +relations. His attitude toward everything in life is, not +suspicious, but watchful. He is "gathered together," +his elbows at his side. + +This evidences itself most strikingly in his terseness +of speech. A man dependent on himself naturally +does not give himself away to the first comer. +He is more interested in finding out what the other +fellow is than in exploiting his own importance. A +man who does much promiscuous talking he is likely +to despise, arguing that man incautious, hence weak. + +Yet when he does talk, he talks to the point and +with a vivid and direct picturesqueness of phrase +which is as refreshing as it is unexpected. The +delightful remodeling of the English language in Mr. +Alfred Lewis's "Wolfville" is exaggerated only in +quantity, not in quality. No cowboy talks habitually +in quite as original a manner as Mr. Lewis's Old +Cattleman; but I have no doubt that in time he +would be heard to say all the good things in that +volume. I myself have note-books full of just such +gorgeous language, some of the best of which I have +used elsewhere, and so will not repeat here.[4] + + +[4] See especially Jackson Himes in The Blazed Trail; +and TheRawhide. + + +This vividness manifests itself quite as often in the +selection of the apt word as in the construction of +elaborate phrases with a half-humorous intention. A +cowboy once told me of the arrival of a tramp by +saying, "He SIFTED into camp." Could any verb be +more expressive? Does not it convey exactly the +lazy, careless, out-at-heels shuffling gait of the hobo? +Another in the course of description told of a saloon +scene, "They all BELLIED UP TO the bar." Again, a +range cook, objecting to purposeless idling about his +fire, shouted: "If you fellows come MOPING around +here any more, I'LL SURE MAKE YOU HARD TO CATCH!" +"Fish in that pond, son? Why, there's some fish +in there big enough to rope," another advised me. +"I quit shoveling," one explained the story of his +life, "because I couldn't see nothing ahead of +shoveling but dirt." The same man described ploughing +as, "Looking at a mule's tail all day." And one of +the most succinct epitomes of the motifs of fiction +was offered by an old fellow who looked over my +shoulder as I was reading a novel. "Well, son," said +he, "what they doing now, KISSING OR KILLING?" + +Nor are the complete phrases behind in aptness. I +have space for only a few examples, but they will +illustrate what I mean. Speaking of a companion +who was "putting on too much dog," I was informed, +"He walks like a man with a new suit of WOODEN +UNDERWEAR!" Or again, in answer to my inquiry as to a +mutual acquaintance, "Jim? Oh, poor old Jim! For +the last week or so he's been nothing but an +insignificant atom of humanity hitched to a boil." + +But to observe the riot of imagination turned loose +with the bridle off, you must assist at a burst of anger +on the part of one of these men. It is mostly +unprintable, but you will get an entirely new idea of +what profanity means. Also you will come to the +conclusion that you, with your trifling DAMNS, and +the like, have been a very good boy indeed. The +remotest, most obscure, and unheard of conceptions +are dragged forth from earth, heaven, and hell, and +linked together in a sequence so original, so gaudy, +and so utterly blasphemous, that you gasp and are +stricken with the most devoted admiration. It is genius. + +Of course I can give you no idea here of what +these truly magnificent oaths are like. It is a pity, +for it would liberalize your education. Occasionally, +like a trickle of clear water into an alkali torrent, a +straight English sentence will drop into the flood. It +is refreshing by contrast, but weak. + +"If your brains were all made of dynamite, you +couldn't blow the top of your head off." + +"I wouldn't speak to him if I met him in hell +carrying a lump of ice in his hand." + +"That little horse'll throw you so high the black- +birds will build nests in your hair before you come +down." + +These are ingenious and amusing, but need the +blazing settings from which I have ravished them to +give them their due force. + +In Arizona a number of us were sitting around +the feeble camp-fire the desert scarcity of fuel +permits, smoking our pipes. We were all contemplative +and comfortably silent with the exception of one +very youthful person who had a lot to say. It was +mainly about himself. After he had bragged awhile +without molestation, one of the older cow-punchers +grew very tired of it. He removed his pipe deliberately, +and spat in the fire. + +"Say, son," he drawled, "if you want to say +something big, why don't you say `elephant'?" + +The young fellow subsided. We went on smoking +our pipes. + +Down near the Chiracahua Range in southeastern +Arizona, there is a butte, and halfway up that butte +is a cave, and in front of that cave is a ramshackle +porch-roof or shed. This latter makes the cave into +a dwelling-house. It is inhabited by an old "alkali" +and half a dozen bear dogs. I sat with the old fellow +one day for nearly an hour. It was a sociable visit, +but economical of the English language. He made +one remark, outside our initial greeting. It was +enough, for in terseness, accuracy, and compression, +I have never heard a better or more comprehensive +description of the arid countries. + +"Son," said he, "in this country thar is more cows +and less butter, more rivers and less water, and you +kin see farther and see less than in any other country +in the world." + +Now this peculiar directness of phrase means but +one thing,--freedom from the influence of convention. +The cowboy respects neither the dictionary nor +usage. He employs his words in the manner that +best suits him, and arranges them in the sequence +that best expresses his idea, untrammeled by tradition. +It is a phase of the same lawlessness, the same +reliance on self, that makes for his taciturnity and +watchfulness. + +In essence, his dress is an adaptation to the +necessities of his calling; as a matter of fact, it is an +elaboration on that. The broad heavy felt hat he +has found by experience to be more effective in turning +heat than a lighter straw; he further runs to +variety in the shape of the crown and in the nature +of the band. He wears a silk handkerchief about his +neck to turn the sun and keep out the dust, but +indulges in astonishing gaudiness of color. His gauntlets +save his hands from the rope; he adds a fringe +and a silver star. The heavy wide "chaps" of leather +about his legs are necessary to him when he is riding +fast through brush; he indulges in such frivolities +as stamped leather, angora hair, and the like. High +heels to his boots prevent his foot from slipping +through his wide stirrup, and are useful to dig into +the ground when he is roping in the corral. Even +his six-shooter is more a tool of his trade than a +weapon of defense. With it he frightens cattle from +the heavy brush; he slaughters old or diseased steers; +he "turns the herd" in a stampede or when rounding +it in; and especially is it handy and loose to his +hip in case his horse should fall and commence to +drag him. + +So the details of his appearance spring from the +practical, but in the wearing of them and the using +of them he shows again that fine disregard for the +way other people do it or think it. + +Now in civilization you and I entertain a double +respect for firearms and the law. Firearms are +dangerous, and it is against the law to use them +promiscuously. If we shoot them off in unexpected places, +we first of all alarm unduly our families and neighbors, +and in due course attract the notice of the police. +By the time we are grown up we look on shooting +a revolver as something to be accomplished after +an especial trip for the purpose. + +But to the cowboy shooting a gun is merely what +lighting a match would be to us. We take reasonable +care not to scratch that match on the wall nor to +throw it where it will do harm. Likewise the +cowboy takes reasonable care that his bullets do not land +in some one's anatomy nor in too expensive bric-a- +brac. Otherwise any time or place will do. + +The picture comes to me of a bunk-house on an +Arizona range. The time was evening. A half-dozen +cowboys were sprawled out on the beds smoking, +and three more were playing poker with the Chinese +cook. A misguided rat darted out from under one +of the beds and made for the empty fireplace. He +finished his journey in smoke. Then the four who +had shot slipped their guns back into their holsters +and resumed their cigarettes and drawling low-toned +conversation. + +On another occasion I stopped for noon at the +Circle I ranch. While waiting for dinner, I lay on +my back in the bunk-room and counted three hundred +and sixty-two bullet-holes in the ceiling. They +came to be there because the festive cowboys used to +while away the time while lying as I was lying, waiting +for supper, in shooting the flies that crawled about +the plaster. + +This beautiful familiarity with the pistol as a parlor +toy accounts in great part for a cowboy's propensity +to "shoot up the town" and his indignation +when arrested therefor. + +The average cowboy is only a fair target-shot with +the revolver. But he is chain lightning at getting +his gun off in a hurry. There are exceptions to this, +however, especially among the older men. Some can +handle the Colts 45 and its heavy recoil with almost +uncanny accuracy. I have seen individuals who could +from their saddles nip lizards darting across the road; +and one who was able to perforate twice before it hit +the ground a tomato-can tossed into the air. The +cowboy is prejudiced against the double-action gun, +for some reason or other. He manipulates his +single-action weapon fast enough, however. + +His sense of humor takes the same unexpected +slants, not because his mental processes differ from +those of other men, but because he is unshackled by +the subtle and unnoticed nothingnesses of precedent +which deflect our action toward the common +uniformity of our neighbors. It must be confessed that +his sense of humor possesses also a certain robustness. + +The J. H. outfit had been engaged for ten days in +busting broncos. This the Chinese cook, Sang, a +newcomer in the territory, found vastly amusing. +He liked to throw the ropes off the prostrate broncos, +when all was ready; to slap them on the flanks; to +yell shrill Chinese yells; and to dance in celestial +delight when the terrified animal arose and scattered +out of there. But one day the range men drove up +a little bunch of full-grown cattle that had been +bought from a smaller owner. It was necessary to +change the brands. Therefore a little fire was built, +the stamp-brand put in to heat, and two of the men +on horseback caught a cow by the horns and one +hind leg, and promptly upset her. The old brand +was obliterated, the new one burnt in. This irritated +the cow. Promptly the branding-men, who were of +course afoot, climbed to the top of the corral to be +out of the way. At this moment, before the horsemen +could flip loose their ropes, Sang appeared. + +"Hol' on!" he babbled. "I take him off;" and +he scrambled over the fence and approached the cow. + +Now cattle of any sort rush at the first object they +see after getting to their feet. But whereas a steer +makes a blind run and so can be avoided, a cow +keeps her eyes open. Sang approached that wild- +eyed cow, a bland smile on his countenance. + +A dead silence fell. Looking about at my +companions' faces I could not discern even in the depths +of their eyes a single faint flicker of human interest. + +Sang loosened the rope from the hind leg, he +threw it from the horns, he slapped the cow with his +hat, and uttered the shrill Chinese yell. So far all was +according to programme. + +The cow staggered to her feet, her eyes blazing fire. +She took one good look, and then started for Sang. + +What followed occurred with all the briskness of +a tune from a circus band. Sang darted for the corral +fence. Now, three sides of the corral were railed, +and so climbable, but the fourth was a solid adobe +wall. Of course Sang went for the wall. There, +finding his nails would not stick, he fled down the +length of it, his queue streaming, his eyes popping, +his talons curved toward an ideal of safety, gibbering +strange monkey talk, pursued a scant arm's length +behind by that infuriated cow. Did any one help +him? Not any. Every man of that crew was hanging +weak from laughter to the horn of his saddle or +the top of the fence. The preternatural solemnity +had broken to little bits. Men came running from +the bunk-house, only to go into spasms outside, to +roll over and over on the ground, clutching handfuls +of herbage in the agony of their delight. + +At the end of the corral was a narrow chute. Into +this Sang escaped as into a burrow. The cow came +too. Sang, in desperation, seized a pole, but the cow +dashed such a feeble weapon aside. Sang caught +sight of a little opening, too small for cows, back +into the main corral. He squeezed through. The +cow crashed through after him, smashing the boards. +At the crucial moment Sang tripped and fell on his +face. The cow missed him by so close a margin that +for a moment we thought she had hit. But she had +not, and before she could turn, Sang had topped the +fence and was halfway to the kitchen. Tom Waters +always maintained that he spread his Chinese sleeves +and flew. Shortly after a tremendous smoke arose from +the kitchen chimney. Sang had gone back to cooking. + +Now that Mongolian was really in great danger, +but no one of the outfit thought for a moment of +any but the humorous aspect of the affair. Analogously, +in a certain small cow-town I happened to be +transient when the postmaster shot a Mexican. +Nothing was done about it. The man went right on +being postmaster, but he had to set up the drinks +because he had hit the Mexican in the stomach. +That was considered a poor place to hit a man. + +The entire town of Willcox knocked off work for +nearly a day to while away the tedium of an enforced +wait there on my part. They wanted me to go fishing. +One man offered a team, the other a saddle-horse. All +expended much eloquence in directing me accurately, so +that I should be sure to find exactly the spot where +I could hang my feet over a bank beneath which there +were "a plumb plenty of fish." Somehow or other +they raked out miscellaneous tackle. But they were a +little too eager. I excused myself and hunted up a +map. Sure enough the lake was there, but it had been +dry since a previous geological period. The fish were +undoubtedly there too, but they were fossil fish. I +borrowed a pickaxe and shovel and announced myself +as ready to start. + +Outside the principal saloon in one town hung a +gong. When a stranger was observed to enter the +saloon, that gong was sounded. Then it behooved him +to treat those who came in answer to the summons. + +But when it comes to a case of real hospitality +or helpfulness, your cowboy is there every time. +You are welcome to food and shelter without price, +whether he is at home or not. Only it is etiquette to +leave your name and thanks pinned somewhere about +the place. Otherwise your intrusion may be +considered in the light of a theft, and you may be +pursued accordingly. + +Contrary to general opinion, the cowboy is not +a dangerous man to those not looking for trouble. +There are occasional exceptions, of course, but they +belong to the universal genus of bully, and can be +found among any class. Attend to your own business, +be cool and good-natured, and your skin is +safe. Then when it is really "up to you," be a man; +you will never lack for friends. + +The Sierras, especially towards the south where +the meadows are wide and numerous, are full of cattle +in small bands. They come up from the desert +about the first of June, and are driven back again +to the arid countries as soon as the autumn storms +begin. In the very high land they are few, and to +be left to their own devices; but now we entered a +new sort of country. + +Below Farewell Gap and the volcanic regions +one's surroundings change entirely. The meadows +become high flat valleys, often miles in extent; the +mountains--while registering big on the aneroid-- +are so little elevated above the plateaus that a few +thousand feet is all of their apparent height; the +passes are low, the slopes easy, the trails good, the +rock outcrops few, the hills grown with forests to +their very tops. Altogether it is a country easy to +ride through, rich in grazing, cool and green, with its +eight thousand feet of elevation. Consequently during +the hot months thousands of desert cattle are pastured +here; and with them come many of the desert men. + +Our first intimation of these things was in the +volcanic region where swim the golden trout. From the +advantage of a hill we looked far down to a hair-grass +meadow through which twisted tortuously a brook, +and by the side of the brook, belittled by distance, +was a miniature man. We could see distinctly his +every movement, as he approached cautiously the +stream's edge, dropped his short line at the end of a +stick over the bank, and then yanked bodily the fish +from beneath. Behind him stood his pony. We +could make out in the clear air the coil of his raw- +hide "rope," the glitter of his silver bit, the metal +points on his saddle skirts, the polish of his six- +shooter, the gleam of his fish, all the details of his +costume. Yet he was fully a mile distant. After a +time he picked up his string of fish, mounted, and +jogged loosely away at the cow-pony's little Spanish +trot toward the south. Over a week later, having +caught golden trout and climbed Mount Whitney, +we followed him and so came to the great central +camp at Monache Meadows. + +Imagine an island-dotted lake of grass four or five +miles long by two or three wide to which slope regular +shores of stony soil planted with trees. Imagine +on the very edge of that lake an especially fine grove +perhaps a quarter of a mile in length, beneath whose +trees a dozen different outfits of cowboys are camped +for the summer. You must place a herd of ponies +in the foreground, a pine mountain at the back, an +unbroken ridge across ahead, cattle dotted here and +there, thousands of ravens wheeling and croaking +and flapping everywhere, a marvelous clear sun and +blue sky. The camps were mostly open, though a +few possessed tents. They differed from the ordinary +in that they had racks for saddles and equipments. +Especially well laid out were the cooking arrangements. +A dozen accommodating springs supplied fresh water with +the conveniently regular spacing of faucets. + +Towards evening the men jingled in. This summer +camp was almost in the nature of a vacation to +them after the hard work of the desert. All they had +to do was to ride about the pleasant hills examining +that the cattle did not stray nor get into trouble. It +was fun for them, and they were in high spirits. + +Our immediate neighbors were an old man of +seventy-two and his grandson of twenty-five. At +least the old man said he was seventy-two. I should +have guessed fifty. He was as straight as an arrow, +wiry, lean, clear-eyed, and had, without food, ridden +twelve hours after some strayed cattle. On arriving +he threw off his saddle, turned his horse loose, and +set about the construction of supper. This consisted +of boiled meat, strong tea, and an incredible number +of flapjacks built of water, baking-powder, salt, and +flour, warmed through--not cooked--in a frying- +pan. He deluged these with molasses and devoured +three platefuls. It would have killed an ostrich, but +apparently did this decrepit veteran of seventy-two +much good. + +After supper he talked to us most interestingly in +the dry cowboy manner, looking at us keenly from +under the floppy brim of his hat. He confided to us +that he had had to quit smoking, and it ground him +--he'd smoked since he was five years old. + +"Tobacco doesn't agree with you any more?" I hazarded. + +"Oh, 'taint that," he replied; "only I'd ruther chew." + +The dark fell, and all the little camp-fires under the +trees twinkled bravely forth. Some of the men sang. +One had an accordion. Figures, indistinct and +formless, wandered here and there in the shadows, +suddenly emerging from mystery into the clarity of +firelight, there to disclose themselves as visitors. Out +on the plain the cattle lowed, the horses nickered. +The red firelight flashed from the metal of suspended +equipment, crimsoned the bronze of men's faces, +touched with pink the high lights on their gracefully +recumbent forms. After a while we rolled up in our +blankets and went to sleep, while a band of coyotes +wailed like lost spirits from a spot where a steer had +died. + + + +XX + +THE GOLDEN TROUT + +After Farewell Gap, as has been hinted, the +country changes utterly. Possibly that is why +it is named Farewell Gap. The land is wild, weird, +full of twisted trees, strangely colored rocks, fantastic +formations, bleak mountains of slabs, volcanic cones, +lava, dry powdery soil or loose shale, close-growing +grasses, and strong winds. You feel yourself in +an upper world beyond the normal, where only the +freakish cold things of nature, elsewhere crowded +out, find a home. Camp is under a lonely tree, none +the less solitary from the fact that it has companions. +The earth beneath is characteristic of the treeless +lands, so that these seem to have been stuck alien into +it. There is no shelter save behind great fortuitous +rocks. Huge marmots run over the boulders, like +little bears. The wind blows strong. The streams run +naked under the eye of the sun, exposing clear and +yellow every detail of their bottoms. In them there +are no deep hiding-places any more than there is +shelter in the land, and so every fish that swims shows +as plainly as in an aquarium. + +We saw them as we rode over the hot dry shale +among the hot and twisted little trees. They lay +against the bottom, transparent; they darted away +from the jar of our horses' hoofs; they swam slowly +against the current, delicate as liquid shadows, as +though the clear uniform golden color of the bottom +had clouded slightly to produce these tenuous ghostly +forms. We examined them curiously from the +advantage our slightly elevated trail gave us, and knew +them for the Golden Trout, and longed to catch some. + +All that day our route followed in general the +windings of this unique home of a unique fish. We +crossed a solid natural bridge; we skirted fields of +red and black lava, vivid as poppies; we gazed +marveling on perfect volcano cones, long since extinct: +finally we camped on a side hill under two tall +branchless trees in about as bleak and exposed a +position as one could imagine. Then all three, we +jointed our rods and went forth to find out what +the Golden Trout was like. + +I soon discovered a number of things, as follows: +The stream at this point, near its source, is very +narrow--I could step across it--and flows beneath +deep banks. The Golden Trout is shy of approach. +The wind blows. Combining these items of knowledge +I found that it was no easy matter to cast forty +feet in a high wind so accurately as to hit a three-foot +stream a yard below the level of the ground. In fact, +the proposition was distinctly sporty; I became as +interested in it as in accurate target-shooting, so that +at last I forgot utterly the intention of my efforts and +failed to strike my first rise. The second, however, +I hooked, and in a moment had him on the grass. + +He was a little fellow of seven inches, but mere +size was nothing, the color was the thing. And that +was indeed golden. I can liken it to nothing more +accurately than the twenty-dollar gold-piece, the +same satin finish, the same pale yellow. The fish was +fairly molten. It did not glitter in gaudy burnishment, +as does our aquarium gold-fish, for example, +but gleamed and melted and glowed as though fresh +from the mould. One would almost expect that on +cutting the flesh it would be found golden through +all its substance. This for the basic color. You +must remember always that it was a true trout, without +scales, and so the more satiny. Furthermore, +along either side of the belly ran two broad longitudinal +stripes of exactly the color and burnish of the +copper paint used on racing yachts. + +I thought then, and have ever since, that the +Golden Trout, fresh from the water, is one of the +most beautiful fish that swims. Unfortunately it +fades very quickly, and so specimens in alcohol +can give no idea of it. In fact, I doubt if you will +ever be able to gain a very clear idea of it unless +you take to the trail that leads up, under the end +of which is known technically as the High Sierras. + +The Golden Trout lives only in this one stream, +but occurs there in countless multitudes. Every little +pool, depression, or riffles has its school. When not +alarmed they take the fly readily. One afternoon I +caught an even hundred in a little over an hour. By +way of parenthesis it may be well to state that most +were returned unharmed to the water. They run +small,--a twelve-inch fish is a monster,--but are +of extraordinary delicacy for eating. We three +devoured sixty-five that first evening in camp. + +Now the following considerations seem to me at +this point worthy of note. In the first place, the +Golden Trout occurs but in this one stream, and is +easily caught. At present the stream is comparatively +inaccessible, so that the natural supply probably +keeps even with the season's catches. Still the +trail is on the direct route to Mount Whitney, and +year by year the ascent of this "top of the Republic" +is becoming more the proper thing to do. Every +camping party stops for a try at the Golden Trout, +and of course the fish-hog is a sure occasional migrant. +The cowboys told of two who caught six hundred +in a day. As the certainly increasing tide of summer +immigration gains in volume, the Golden Trout, in +spite of his extraordinary numbers at present, is going +to be caught out. + +Therefore, it seems the manifest duty of the Fisheries +to provide for the proper protection and distribution +of this species, especially the distribution. +Hundreds of streams in the Sierras are without trout +simply because of some natural obstruction, such as +a waterfall too high to jump, which prevents their +ascent of the current. These are all well adapted to +the planting of fish, and might just as well be stocked +by the Golden Trout as by the customary Rainbow. +Care should be taken lest the two species become +hybridized, as has occurred following certain misguided +efforts in the South Fork of the Kern. + +So far as I know but one attempt has been made +to transplant these fish. About five or six years ago +a man named Grant carried some in pails across to a +small lake near at hand. They have done well, and +curiously enough have grown to a weight of from one +and a half to two pounds. This would seem to show +that their small size in Volcano Creek results entirely +from conditions of feed or opportunity for development, +and that a study of proper environment might +result in a game fish to rival the Rainbow in size and +certainly to surpass him in curious interest. + +A great many well-meaning people who have +marveled at the abundance of the Golden Trout +in their natural habitat laugh at the idea that +Volcano Creek will ever become "fished out." To such +it should be pointed out that the fish in question is +a voracious feeder, is without shelter, and quickly +landed. A simple calculation will show how many +fish a hundred moderate anglers, camping a week +apiece, would take out in a season. And in a short +time there will be many more than a hundred, few +of them moderate, coming up into the mountains to +camp just as long as they have a good time. All it +needs is better trails, and better trails are under way. +Well-meaning people used to laugh at the idea that +the buffalo and wild pigeons would ever disappear. +They are gone. + + + +ON GOING OUT + +XXI + +ON GOING OUT + +The last few days of your stay in the wilderness +you will be consumedly anxious to get out. +It does not matter how much of a savage you are, +how good a time you are having, or how long you +have been away from civilization. Nor does it mean +especially that you are glad to leave the wilds. +Merely does it come about that you drift unconcernedly +on the stream of days until you approach the +brink of departure: then irresistibly the current +hurries you into haste. The last day of your week's +vacation; the last three of your month's or your +summer's or your year's outing,--these comprise the +hours in which by a mighty but invisible transformation +your mind forsakes its savagery, epitomizes +again the courses of social evolution, regains the poise +and cultivation of the world of men. Before that you +have been content; yes, and would have gone on +being content for as long as you please until the +approach of the limit you have set for your wandering. + +In effect this transformation from the state of +savagery to the state of civilization is very abrupt. +When you leave the towns your clothes and mind +are new. Only gradually do they take on the color +of their environment; only gradually do the subtle +influences of the great forest steal in on your dulled +faculties to flow over them in a tide that rises +imperceptibly. You glide as gently from the artificial to +the natural life as do the forest shadows from night +to day. But at the other end the affair is different. +There you awake on the appointed morning in complete +resumption of your old attitude of mind. The +tide of nature has slipped away from you in the night. + +Then you arise and do the most wonderful of your +wilderness traveling. On those days you look back +fondly, of them you boast afterwards in telling what +a rapid and enduring voyager you are. The biggest +day's journey I ever undertook was in just such a +case. We started at four in the morning through a +forest of the early spring-time, where the trees were +glorious overhead, but the walking ankle deep. On +our backs were thirty-pound burdens. We walked +steadily until three in the afternoon, by which time +we had covered thirty miles and had arrived at what +then represented civilization to us. Of the nine who +started, two Indians finished an hour ahead; the half +breed, Billy, and I staggered in together, encouraging +each other by words concerning the bottle of beer we +were going to buy; and the five white men never +got in at all until after nine o'clock that night. +Neither thirty miles, nor thirty pounds, nor ankle- +deep slush sounds formidable when considered as +abstract and separate propositions. + +In your first glimpse of the civilized peoples your +appearance in your own eyes will undergo the same +instantaneous and tremendous revulsion that has +already taken place in your mental sphere. Heretofore +you have considered yourself as a decently well +appointed gentleman of the woods. Ten to one, in +contrast to the voluntary or enforced simplicity of the +professional woodsman you have looked on your +little luxuries of carved leather hat-band, fancy knife +sheath, pearl-handled six-shooter, or khaki breeches +as giving you slightly the air of a forest exquisite. +But on that depot platform or in presence of that +staring group on the steps of the Pullman, you suddenly +discover yourself to be nothing less than a +disgrace to your bringing up. Nothing could be more +evident than the flop of your hat, the faded, dusty +appearance of your blue shirt, the beautiful black +polish of your khakis, the grime of your knuckles, the +three days' beard of your face. If you are a fool, you +worry about it. If you are a sensible man, you do not +mind;--and you prepare for amusing adventures. + +The realization of your external unworthiness, +however, brings to your heart the desire for a hot +bath in a porcelain tub. You gloat over the thought; +and when the dream comes to be a reality, you soak +away in as voluptuous a pleasure as ever falls to the +lot of man to enjoy. Then you shave, and array +yourself minutely and preciously in clean clothes +from head to toe, building up a new respectability, +and you leave scornfully in a heap your camping +garments. They have heretofore seemed clean, but +now you would not touch them, no, not even to put +them in the soiled-clothes basket, let your feminines +rave as they may. And for at least two days you +prove an almost childish delight in mere raiment. + +But before you can reach this blissful stage you +have still to order and enjoy your first civilized +dinner. It tastes good, not because your camp dinners +have palled on you, but because your transformation +demands its proper aliment. Fortunate indeed you +are if you step directly to a transcontinental train or +into the streets of a modern town. Otherwise the +transition through the small-hotel provender is apt +to offer too little contrast for the fullest enjoyment. +But aboard the dining-car or in the cafe you will +gather to yourself such ill-assorted succulence as thick, +juicy beefsteaks, and creamed macaroni, and sweet +potatoes, and pie, and red wine, and real cigars and +other things. + +In their acquisition your appearance will tell +against you. We were once watched anxiously by +a nervous female head waiter who at last mustered +up courage enough to inform me that guests were +not allowed to eat without coats. We politely pointed +out that we possessed no such garments. After a long +consultation with the proprietor she told us it was all +right for this time, but that we must not do it again. +At another place I had to identify myself as a +responsible person by showing a picture in a magazine +bought for the purpose. + +The public never will know how to take you. +Most of it treats you as though you were a two-dollar +a day laborer; some of the more astute are puzzled. +One February I walked out of the North Country on +snowshoes and stepped directly into a Canadian +Pacific transcontinental train. I was clad in fur cap, +vivid blanket coat, corded trousers, German stockings +and moccasins; and my only baggage was the +pair of snowshoes. It was the season of light travel. +A single Englishman touring the world as the crow +flies occupied the car. He looked at me so askance +that I made an opportunity of talking to him. I +should like to read his "Travels" to see what he +made out of the riddle. In similar circumstances, +and without explanation, I had fun talking French +and swapping boulevard reminiscences with a member +of a Parisian theatrical troupe making a long +jump through northern Wisconsin. And once, at +six of the morning, letting myself into my own +house with a latch-key, and sitting down to read the +paper until the family awoke, I was nearly brained +by the butler. He supposed me a belated burglar, +and had armed himself with the poker. The most +flattering experience of the kind was voiced by a +small urchin who plucked at his mother's sleeve: +"Look, mamma!" he exclaimed in guarded but +jubilant tones, "there's a real Indian!" + +Our last camp of this summer was built and broken +in the full leisure of at least a three weeks' expectation. +We had traveled south from the Golden Trout +through the Toowah range. There we had viewed +wonders which I cannot expect you to believe in,-- +such as a spring of warm water in which you could +bathe and from which you could reach to dip up a +cup of carbonated water on the right hand, or cast +a fly into a trout stream, on the left. At length we +entered a high meadow in the shape of a maltese +cross, with pine slopes about it, and springs of water +welling in little humps of green. There the long +pine-needles were extraordinarily thick and the pine- +cones exceptionally large. The former we scraped +together to the depth of three feet for a bed in the +lea of a fallen trunk; the latter we gathered in arm- +fuls to pile on the camp-fire. Next morning we rode +down a mile or so through the grasses, exclaimed +over the thousands of mountain quail buzzing from +the creek bottoms, gazed leisurely up at our well- +known pines and about at the grateful coolness of +our accustomed green meadows and leaves;--and +then, as though we had crossed a threshold, we +emerged into chaparral, dry loose shale, yucca, Spanish +bayonet, heated air and the bleached burned-out +furnace-like country of arid California in midsummer. +The trail dropped down through sage-brush, just as +it always did in the California we had known; the +mountains rose with the fur-like dark-olive effect of +the coast ranges; the sun beat hot. We had left the +enchanted land. + +The trail was very steep and very long, and took +us finally into the country of dry brown grasses, gray +brush, waterless stony ravines, and dust. Others had +traveled that trail, headed the other way, and +evidently had not liked it. Empty bottles blazed the +path. Somebody had sacrificed a pack of playing- +cards, which he had stuck on thorns from time to +time, each inscribed with a blasphemous comment +on the discomforts of such travel. After an apparently +interminable interval we crossed an irrigating +ditch, where the horses were glad to water, and so +came to one of those green flowering lush California +villages so startlingly in contrast to their surroundings. + +By this it was two o'clock and we had traveled +on horseback since four. A variety of circumstances +learned at the village made it imperative that both +the Tenderfoot and myself should go out without +the delay of a single hour. This left Wes to bring +the horses home, which was tough on Wes, but he +rose nobly to the occasion. + +When the dust of our rustling cleared, we found we +had acquired a team of wild broncos, a buckboard, +an elderly gentleman with a white goatee, two bottles of beer, +some crackers and some cheese. With these we hoped to +reach the railroad shortly after midnight. + +The elevation was five thousand feet, the road +dusty and hot, the country uninteresting in sage- +brush and alkali and rattlesnakes and general dryness. +Constantly we drove, checking off the landmarks +in the good old fashion. Our driver had immigrated +from Maine the year before, and by some +chance had drifted straight to the arid regions. He +was vastly disgusted. At every particularly atrocious +dust-hole or unlovely cactus strip he spat into space +and remarked in tones of bottomless contempt:-- + +"BEAU-ti-ful Cal-if-or-nia!" + +This was evidently intended as a quotation. + +Towards sunset we ran up into rounded hills, +where we got out at every rise in order to ease the +horses, and where we hurried the old gentleman beyond +the limits of his Easterner's caution at every descent. + +It grew dark. Dimly the road showed gray in the +twilight. We did not know how far exactly we were +to go, but imagined that sooner or later we would +top one of the small ridges to look across one of the +broad plateau plains to the lights of our station. +You see we had forgotten, in the midst of flatness, +that we were still over five thousand feet up. Then +the road felt its way between two hills;--and the +blackness of night opened below us as well as above, +and from some deep and tremendous abyss breathed +the winds of space. + +It was as dark as a cave, for the moon was yet two +hours below the horizon. Somehow the trail turned +to the right along that tremendous cliff. We thought +we could make out its direction, the dimness of its +glimmering; but equally well, after we had looked a +moment, we could imagine it one way or another, to +right and left. I went ahead to investigate. The trail +to left proved to be the faint reflection of a clump of +"old man" at least five hundred feet down; that to +right was a burned patch sheer against the rise of the +cliff. We started on the middle way. + +There were turns-in where a continuance straight +ahead would require an airship or a coroner; again +turns-out where the direct line would telescope you +against the state of California. These we could make +out by straining our eyes. The horses plunged and +snorted; the buckboard leaped. Fire flashed from +the impact of steel against rock, momentarily blinding +us to what we should see. Always we descended into +the velvet blackness of the abyss, the canon walls rising +steadily above us shutting out even the dim illumination +of the stars. From time to time our driver, desperately +scared, jerked out cheering bits of information. + +"My eyes ain't what they was. For the Lord's +sake keep a-lookin', boys." + +"That nigh hoss is deef. There don't seem to be +no use saying WHOA to her." + +"Them brakes don't hold fer sour peanuts. I been +figgerin' on tackin' on a new shoe for a week." + +"I never was over this road but onct, and then I +was headed th' other way. I was driving of a corpse." + +Then, after two hours of it, BING! BANG! SMASH! +our tongue collided with a sheer black wall, no +blacker than the atmosphere before it. The trail here +took a sharp V turn to the left. We had left the face +of the precipice and henceforward would descend the bed +of the canon. Fortunately our collision had done damage +to nothing but our nerves, so we proceeded to do so. + +The walls of the crevice rose thousands of feet +above us. They seemed to close together, like the +sides of a tent, to leave only a narrow pale lucent +strip of sky. The trail was quite invisible, and even +the sense of its existence was lost when we traversed +groves of trees. One of us had to run ahead of the +horses, determining its general direction, locating the +sharper turns. The rest depended on the instinct of +the horses and pure luck. + +It was pleasant in the cool of night thus to run down +through the blackness, shouting aloud to guide our +followers, swinging to the slope, bathed to the soul +in mysteries of which we had no time to take cognizance. + +By and by we saw a little spark far ahead of us +like a star. The smell of fresh wood smoke and stale +damp fire came to our nostrils. We gained the star +and found it to be a log smouldering; and up the +hill other stars red as blood. So we knew that we +had crossed the zone of an almost extinct forest fire, +and looked on the scattered camp-fires of an army +of destruction. + +The moon rose. We knew it by touches of white +light on peaks infinitely far above us; not at all by +the relieving of the heavy velvet blackness in which +we moved. After a time, I, running ahead in my +turn, became aware of the deep breathing of animals. +I stopped short and called a warning. Immediately +a voice answered me. + +"Come on, straight ahead. They're not on the road." + +When within five feet I made out the huge +freight wagons in which were lying the teamsters, +and very dimly the big freight mules standing tethered +to the wheels. + +"It's a dark night, friend, and you're out late." + +"A dark night," I agreed, and plunged on. Behind +me rattled and banged the abused buckboard, +snorted the half-wild broncos, groaned the unrepaired +brake, softly cursed my companions. + +Then at once the abrupt descent ceased. We glided out +to the silvered flat, above which sailed the moon. + +The hour was seen to be half past one. We had +missed our train. Nothing was visible of human +habitations. The land was frosted with the moonlight, +enchanted by it, etherealized. Behind us, huge +and formidable, loomed the black mass of the range +we had descended. Before us, thin as smoke in the +magic lucence that flooded the world, rose other +mountains, very great, lofty as the sky. We could +not understand them. The descent we had just +accomplished should have landed us on a level plain +in which lay our town. But here we found ourselves +in a pocket valley entirely surrounded by mountain +ranges through which there seemed to be no pass less +than five or six thousand feet in height. + +We reined in the horses to figure it out. + +"I don't see how it can be," said I. "We've +certainly come far enough. It would take us four +hours at the very least to cross that range, even if +the railroad should happen to be on the other side +of it." + +"I been through here only once," repeated the +driver,--"going the other way.--Then I drew a +corpse." He spat, and added as an afterthought, +"BEAU-ti-ful Cal-if-or-nia!" + +We stared at the mountains that hemmed us in. +They rose above us sheer and forbidding. In the +bright moonlight plainly were to be descried the +brush of the foothills, the timber, the fissures, the +canons, the granites, and the everlasting snows. +Almost we thought to make out a thread of a waterfall +high up where the clouds would be if the night +had not been clear. + +"We got off the trail somewhere," hazarded the +Tenderfoot. + +"Well, we're on a road, anyway," I pointed out. +"It's bound to go somewhere. We might as well +give up the railroad and find a place to turn-in." + +"It can't be far," encouraged the Tenderfoot; +"this valley can't be more than a few miles across." + +"Gi dap!" remarked the driver. + +We moved forward down the white wagon trail +approaching the mountains. And then we were +witnesses of the most marvelous transformation. For +as we neared them, those impregnable mountains, +as though panic-stricken by our advance, shrunk +back, dissolved, dwindled, went to pieces. Where +had towered ten-thousand-foot peaks, perfect in the +regular succession from timber to snow, now were +little flat hills on which grew tiny bushes of sage. A +passage opened between them. In a hundred yards +we had gained the open country, leaving behind us +the mighty but unreal necromancies of the moon. + +Before us gleamed red and green lights. The mass +of houses showed half distinguishable. A feeble +glimmer illuminated part of a white sign above the +depot. That which remained invisible was evidently +the name of the town. That which was revealed was +the supplementary information which the Southern +Pacific furnishes to its patrons. It read: "Elevation +482 feet." We were definitely out of the mountains. + + + +XXII + +THE LURE OF THE TRAIL + +The trail's call depends not at all on your +common sense. You know you are a fool for +answering it; and yet you go. The comforts of +civilization, to put the case on its lowest plane, are +not lightly to be renounced: the ease of having your +physical labor done for you; the joy of cultivated +minds, of theatres, of books, of participation in the +world's progress; these you leave behind you. And +in exchange you enter a life where there is much long +hard work of the hands--work that is really hard and +long, so that no man paid to labor would consider +it for a moment; you undertake to eat simply, to +endure much, to lie on the rack of anxiety; you +voluntarily place yourself where cold, wet, hunger, thirst, +heat, monotony, danger, and many discomforts will +wait upon you daily. A thousand times in the course +of a woods life even the stoutest-hearted will tell +himself softly--very softly if he is really stout-hearted, +so that others may not be annoyed--that if ever the +fates permit him to extricate himself he will never +venture again. + +These times come when long continuance has +worn on the spirit. You beat all day to windward +against the tide toward what should be but an hour's +sail: the sea is high and the spray cold; there are +sunken rocks, and food there is none; chill gray +evening draws dangerously near, and there is a +foot of water in the bilge. You have swallowed +your tongue twenty times on the alkali; and the +sun is melting hot, and the dust dry and pervasive, +and there is no water, and for all your effort the +relative distances seem to remain the same for days. +You have carried a pack until your every muscle +is strung white-hot; the woods are breathless; the +black flies swarm persistently and bite until your +face is covered with blood. You have struggled +through clogging snow until each time you raise +your snowshoe you feel as though some one had +stabbed a little sharp knife into your groin; it has +come to be night; the mercury is away below zero, +and with aching fingers you are to prepare a camp +which is only an anticipation of many more such +camps in the ensuing days. For a week it has +rained, so that you, pushing through the dripping +brush, are soaked and sodden and comfortless, and +the bushes have become horrible to your shrinking +goose-flesh. Or you are just plain tired out, not +from a single day's fatigue, but from the gradual +exhaustion of a long hike. Then in your secret soul +you utter these sentiments:-- + +"You are a fool. This is not fun. There is no real +reason why you should do this. If you ever get out +of here, you will stick right home where common +sense flourishes, my son!" + +Then after a time you do get out, and are thankful. +But in three months you will have proved in +your own experience the following axiom--I should +call it the widest truth the wilderness has to teach:-- + +"In memory the pleasures of a camping trip +strengthen with time, and the disagreeables weaken." + +I don't care how hard an experience you have had, +nor how little of the pleasant has been mingled with +it, in three months your general impression of that +trip will be good. You will look back on the hard +times with a certain fondness of recollection. + +I remember one trip I took in the early spring +following a long drive on the Pine River. It rained +steadily for six days. We were soaked to the skin +all the time, ate standing up in the driving downpour, +and slept wet. So cold was it that each morning +our blankets were so full of frost that they crackled +stiffly when we turned out. Dispassionately I can +appraise that as about the worst I ever got into. Yet +as an impression the Pine River trip seems to me a +most enjoyable one. + +So after you have been home for a little while the +call begins to make itself heard. At first it is very +gentle. But little by little a restlessness seizes hold +of you. You do not know exactly what is the matter: +you are aware merely that your customary life +has lost savor, that you are doing things more or less +perfunctorily, and that you are a little more irritable +than your naturally evil disposition. + +And gradually it is borne in on you exactly what +is the matter. Then say you to yourself:-- + +"My son, you know better. You are no tenderfoot. +You have had too long an experience to admit +of any glamour of indefiniteness about this thing. +No use bluffing. You know exactly how hard you +will have to work, and how much tribulation you are +going to get into, and how hungry and wet and cold +and tired and generally frazzled out you are going to +be. You've been there enough times so it's pretty +clearly impressed on you. You go into this thing +with your eyes open. You know what you're in for. +You're pretty well off right here, and you'd be a fool +to go." + +"That's right," says yourself to you. "You're dead +right about it, old man. Do you know where we can +get another pack-mule?" + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of The Mountains + diff --git a/old/tmtns10.zip b/old/tmtns10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3477dbb --- /dev/null +++ b/old/tmtns10.zip |