the lake and fished at the inlet.  Here he caught a fine trout.  I went around and up the little river that fed the lake.  It curved swiftly through a meadow, and had deep, dark eddies under mossy, flowering banks.  At other places the stream ran swiftly over clean gravel beds.  It was musical and clear as crystal, and to the touch of hand, as cold as ice water.  I waded in and began to cast.  I saw several big trout, and at last coaxed one to take my fly.  But I missed him.  Then in a swift current a flash of red caught my eye and I saw a big trout lazily rise to my fly.  Saw him take it!  And I hooked him.  He was not active, but heavy and plunging, and he bored in and out, and made short runs.  I had not seen such beautiful red colors in any fish.  He made a fine fight, but at last I landed him on the grass, a cutthroat of about one and three-quarter pounds, deep red and silver and green, and spotted all over.  That was the extent of my luck.

We went back to the point, and thought we would wait a little while to see if the trout would begin to rise.  But they did not.  A storm began to mutter and boom along the battlements.  Great gray clouds obscured the peaks, and at length the rain came.  It was cold and cutting.  We sought the shelter of spruces for a while, and waited.  After an hour it cleared somewhat, and R.C. caught a fine one-pound cutthroat, all green and silver, with only two slashes of red along under the gills.  Then another storm threatened.  Before we got ready to leave for camp the rain began again to fall, and we looked for a wetting.  It was raining hard when we rode into the woods and very cold.  The spruces were dripping.  But we soon got warm from hard riding up steep slopes.  After an hour the rain ceased, the sun came out, and from the open places high up we could see a great green void of spruce, and beyond, boundless black ranges, running off to dim horizon.  We flushed a big blue grouse with a brood of little ones, and at length another big one.

In one of the open parks the Airedale Fox showed signs of scenting game.  There was a patch of ground where the grass was pressed down.  Teague whispered and pointed.  I saw the gray rump of an elk protruding from behind some spruces.  I beckoned for R.C. and we both dismounted.  Just then the elk rose and stalked out.  It was a magnificent bull with crowning lofty antlers.  The shoulders and neck appeared black.  He raised his head, and turning, trotted away with ease and grace for such a huge beast.  That was a wild and beautiful sight I had not seen before.  We were entranced, and when he disappeared, we burst out with exclamations.

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