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About The Hillsboro argus. (Hillsboro, Or.) 1895-current | View Entire Issue (July 2, 1903)
NLY MRS. CHAPTER IX.-ContinndJ i Th party at Endoa Vilt waa breaking op. I.i.ly Marios Alton on being in-1 formed of her niece's engagement had com to Endon Vale and carried her on" ta I-ondon, and thence to pa; visit to Berkshire. Francis Clayton had left th day before for London. Miw Champion had stajred on, in the hope of winning back Lord Harold to hia allegiance; but now that she found each day attracting him more and more to her cousin, she could endure it no longer. The visit to Lady Grace, from which she had antici pated such great results, had been fraught with the most bitter mortifica tion. .That same evening while Lady Grace was In her own little sanctum reading, Winifred knocked at her door and, in an swer to her "come in," the girl went In . and shut the door. Lady Grace looked np and smiled kindly, and then she looked again. Wiui fred did not seem bright and beaming a was her wont she was nervous, and there were tear atains on her face. "What is It, my love? Too hare been crying:" There was such tender solici tude in the tone that it was too much for the girl's overstrung nerves, and the tears came thick and fast. "O Lady Grace, I am so grieved !" "Grieved, my child ? You have not had bad news from homer" "Oh, no, not that; but I am so afraid yon will be angry with me and never for give me. It is about Lord Harold Ere . kine," Winifred said, nervously, and a udden chill came into the heart of the elder lady, for she was very fond of her nephew. "About Harold, my dearr "Lord Harold asked asked me to mar ry him this morning; and, oh. Lady Grace, I am so sorry!" "Sorry that be asked yon to marry hlmT "Because indeed. Lady Grace, I never dreamt of such a thing I thought hia position made bim so tar beyond me. I thought he was kind to me, just from (enerous-mindedness like yon, that I might not feel strange at coming Into society I was not nsed to." "Then yon do not love him!" "I do like him very much I could not kelp it, he is so good but, oh, dear Lady Grace, I could not marry him," and the tears rained down. "Then yon have refused him 7" . "1 told him the truth I could Hot de ceive him." And then all of a sndden It Bashed on Lady Grace Farquhar's mind that there was something noble and high-minded In this girl's refusing such a position and such wealth because ahe did not love the man. A more worldly minded woman would have held such romantic folly in contempt, and thought the girl a fool for her pains; but not so Lady Grace. BUM there was a momentary struggle in her heart before she rose from her seat and kissed Winifred. "My love," she said sweetly, "I think 70a have done quite right, if yon feel sure in your own mind that yea cannot love film RiO im vnn mitt IIimM ( kind and good; he is handsome, and is rich ought yon not to weigh everything In your mind thoroughly before you de cide?" , "I like him, I respect him, but I do not love him I cannot marry him!" conclud ed Winifred, piteously. "Very well, my dear, I will aay no more. I am sorry, for my boy's sake, and I ahould hare, been well content to have you for a niece." And then the kind-hearted woman took the sobbing girl in her arms and Wini fred laid her head on the kind breast, and cried to her heart's content There waa a good deal more talk before the two parted, and it was settled that Winifred ahould go home the next day but one, and stay there a few weeks; and then ahe should pay Endon Vale another visit, when Lord Harold should hare left. But Lord Harold left that very day, after see ing and conBding in his aunt. His part ing words were: "Aunt, do you think there is any hope that she will ever come to care for me 7" Lady Grace kissed his forehead and stroked his head very tenderly. "I cannot tell, my boy, but I am afraid of CHAPTER X. . . Seventeen months have elapsed since Errol Hastings had stood on the deck of the Enone, looking down Into the Med iterranean, and thinking of the woman he loved so deeply. She was not a wom an, though, then she was only a fresh, young girl; and in her sweet, simple purity lay the charm ahe had for the man f the world. He was staying for a month in Paris on the way home, and the brilliant so ciety he mixed with waa very pleasant after his long Isolation. To-nlght, too, he waa to meet an old friend at the opera a woman whom he had always liked, but who had never seemed so charming to him as she did now, with her pretty assumption of matronhood. Her husband was detest able, certainly, and ahe knew It. Surely the continuance of an old friendship must be grateful to one who could not be very happy. And with a strong Interest, tery keenly awakened, Mr. Hastings walked that evening into Mrs. Clayton's pera box. The husband and wife were together alone. The former was gaxlng intently through his glass at a very showy looking supernumerary, the latter leant back In differently, with a strong evpression of discontent and weariness on her pretty luce. She was prettier, perhaps, than when we last saw her as Fee Alton; bnt sadder, more pensive, and her beauty was enhanced by the magnificence of her Jew elry, "I am so glad yon have come!" Mrs. Clayton said, smiling up in Errol's face, and yielding her band to his gentle pres sure "I was so dull. None of my friends has been up to see me. and Mr. Clayton la so fascinated by some lovely creature on the stage that he has no eyes for any one els. Francis," she continued, touch ing her husband "Francis, Mr. Hastings Is here." Mr. Clayton looked savagely at her, and then he gar a surly recognition to Mr. Hastings. "I hardly expected to sea yon here this evening," be said. "Ynn know. Francis. I told yon I asked Mr. Hastings to come," said Fee, ma liciously. "Your memory Is not usually an defective." Madame was not In the best of tempers -constant contact with a man Ilka her husband bad not tended to Increnat the amiability of few disposition. A FARMER'S I DAUGHTER. By FORRESTER. r rlvt.n tnttiA.1 tA th tSC. and left his wife to an uninterrupted con- rersation with her friend. But all the same he was trying to hear every word that passed between them; he was far too small-minded to be free from jealousy and suspicion. Fee was perfectly aware that he was listening, so she dropped ber voice to a whisper, and flirted away in a very animated manner with Mr. Hast ings. Francis Clayton was graduslly be coming furious. At the end of the third act he arose. "It is time to put on your cloak," he said in a harsh and unpleasant voice. "Why, dear?" asked Fee, looking up with languid innocence, "are you afraid I shall take cold? lou are Hot usually so solicitous about me." "I ordered the carriage early, and 1 do not choose my horses to be kept wait ing," he replied, scarcely deigning to look at her. Mr. Clayton moved toward the door, and hia wife resumed her conversation with more animation than ever. "Are you coming?" he exclaimed, turn ing Impatiently. "Me coming ?"' returned Fee, nonchal antly, raising her eyebrows. "My dear Francis, what could put such an absurd idea into your head?" To be treated with indifference, and, worse, ridicule, is naturally disagreeable to any man; but it made Mr. Clayton, sulky and ill-tempered as he already was, perfectly aflame with rage. "Marion, are you coming? "Certainly not." "Then I shall go alone. Henry can get yon a fiacre when you feel disposed to follow me." And the amiable husband left the box. Mrs. Clayton was as bitter and angry as a high-spirited woman would be under the clrcumsthances; but she went on talk ing to her companion very fast, to conceal her annoyance. She was too proud ts make any allusion to her husband's treat ment of her; and Mr. Hastings appeared not to have noticed it But he felt for her keenly. He did not quite justify her, or think she had behaved wisely, but he saw what the man was, and felt there must have been some strong undercurrent of bitterness to change the bright, good tempered, sunny, little fairy he had known formerly to the indifferent, pro voking woman of to-night "Poor little girl!" he thought to himself. "I dsre say she has found out by this time that money doesn't bring happiness." Mrs. Clsyton remained until the fifth act was half over, then she asked Errol to see If her servsnt was in the ball. He left the box, and returned almost immedi ately. "My brougham is at your disposal, Mrs. Clayton, and your servant is just calling it up." She thanked him; and he put her cloak carefully round her, and gave her his arm. "Good-night" she said, when ahe waa seated in the carriage. "Many thanks for your timely aid. Will you come and see us to-morrow at our hotel?" He promised; and at parting he held her hand longer than is strictly necessary In wishing good-by. The day after their meeting at the opera Mr. Hastings called on Mrs. Clay ton; and Mr. Clayton, suspecting the visit was purposely at home. Fee bright ened np when Mr. Haatlngs was announc ed. She had always liked him; now in . her loneliness and misery she rsnked him as a dear old friend. Her manner was all the more cordial because she wanted to annoy her husband. "Mr. Hastings, I am delighted to see yon; I was just feeling so frightfully bor ed and dull. I hope yon bring a whole budget of news." "I must ask first after my old friend. Lady Marion," be answered. "I cannot forgive myself for my remissness la sot doing so last night." "Aunt is very well, thank yon. I heard from her this morning. She says she is dreadfully dull without me, and is longing to see ns bsck again." "I often think how she must miss yon. I almost wonder she does not remain with you." "So she would, gladly, but Mr. Clayton won't let her. Of course, if we have a difference of opinion she takes my part, and he says something rude to her, and she is offended. Is It not so, Francis?" Mr. Clayton muttered something about a mother-in-law being bad enough, but an aunt-In-law was more than anybody bargained for. "And as matrimony is altogether a com mercial speculation," rejoined Fee, with a delightful smile, "you can't, of course, take more than you bargain for can you, Mr. Hastings?" Errol was by no mesns pleased at be ing made a third party to matrimonial differences, and made an effort to change the conversation. "Have you seen anything of Lady Grace Farquhar lately, Mrs. Clayton'" he asked. "She was here not s month ago; and she has adopted such a sweet charming girl. They are like mother and daugh ter; and even that selfish old bookworm. Sir Clayton, seems quite taken with her. I wish you bad been here sooner. 1 know you would hare been In love with her." "I thought Mr. Hastings knew Miss Eyre," interposed Francis Clayton. "At all events, I recollect hearing their names connected In some story about meeting in a wood." Errol started slightly, and it might have been fancy, but Fee certainly thought a deeper color came into his bronzed face. Mr. Clayton seemed to think the same, for he proceeded In bis usual amiable manner: "She and Erskine were awfully sweet on each other when we were staying at the rale. I dare say that will be a match. Lady Grace seems quite agree able to It; bnt of course It's a shocking bad one for him." "Francis," exclaimed bis wife, "bow you exaggerate! You know Winifred nev er cared for Lord Harold. She won't confess It, but I am quite sura be made her an offer, snd that she refused him. He never will meet her if he can help It." "Did you say that Lady Grace had adopted her, Mrs. Clayton?' "Yes, more than a year ago; Indeed, before I was married. She was in such sad trouble, poor girl. She was very fond of ber father, and be was killed suddenly in a very shocking way. His horse ran away with him, and be was thrown out of the dogcart and killed on the spot They thought she never would get over It and Lady Grace took her horns and nursed her aa If she had been her own child. Old Sir Howard Cham pion would bars taken bar. but aba re fused to go nev them. feecanee ttirj j would not acknowledge her father. She has promised to come and stay with me when we get back to town. Vou must come snd meet her." "I shall be very happy, stammered Errol. CHAPTER XI. Errol Hastings, riding toward the Bols de Boulogne, pouderiug much on what he had heard. He waa surprised he tried to believe he was pleased; but somehow or other his satisfaction waa not very genuine. Miss Eyre had certainly made a fortunate step in life; true she had lost a father whom she had loved, but then she had gained a friend, in Lady Grace Farquhar, She would get lutioduced into good society, and perhaps, but that waa not a train of thought he cared to fol low. Had not Erskiue already been at her feet? Mr. Hastings soliloquy was cut short by seeing Col. d'Aguilar walking leisure ly along the Champa Elytees. He drew rein instantly. "O'Aguilar"' he cried. "Hastings!" exclaimed the other, and they shook hands warmly. "I thought you were back with your regiment" aaid Errol. "I have a month more leave, and my brother asked me to join him here, and so I came." A great, many questions came Into Er rot's head that he would have liked to ask Col. d'Aguilar at once; but conver sation ta neither easy nor agreeable when carried on with a pedestrian from the altitude of a horse's back, particularly when your steed is restive and impatient "Come up to my hotel to-night, d'Agui lar, will yon?" Mr. Hastings aaid. "Very well; I suppose you are going to the ball at the Embassy?" "Yes: but not before twelve." "Then I'll look in about ten." And the two men parted just as Mrs. Cla.vton rolled past in her handsome car riage, drawn by high-stepping horses. She looked like a lovely little Esquimaux en veloped in her soft white furs, and she gsre Mr. Hastings a bright smile, and the wave of a delicately gloved little hand. She had not observed Col. d'Agui lar. Sixteen months had passed since the dsy when they hsd ridden together down the avenue of broad-leaved chestnuts at Endon Vale. She was not altered at all events, it did not seem so In the momen tary glance he had caught of her smiling face. Was she then utterly heartless? Could she hare lived ail these months with such a hatefut. contemptible wretch ss Clsyton, and still go on smiling and flirting, and give no sign? Col. d'Aguilar knew none of the particulars of the mar riage; he had not even heard that she was happy; he had but met her once, and then ahe had left him at her husband's command, with a smile on her tips. Ha turned and walked back unhappy and resentful. Mr. Clayton, as well as his wife, wss profoundly Ignorant of Col. d'Agullar's arrival In Tarts, or be would as soon hsve trusted his wife alone In that fine city, as he would bare walked willingly himself into the cage of the lion in the Jardin des Plantes. (To be continued.) MISS COSTON IN BUSINESS. the Ie Now Active Heid of Company that Makes the Coston Fig-nata. In 1S40, when Benjamin Franklin Cos ton was 19 years old and was tn the Washington nary yard, he had many talks with Commodores Stockton and Stewart about night signals at seat. The result was that he fitted up a labors tory and set about the work of making what are now known as the Coston sig nals, which are In use pretty much ail over the world and are not confined to the sea and lakes alone, but are utilized by railroads, telegraph companies and other concerns for purpose that were not dreamed of by the Inventor when he began his work. Coston died when he was 22 years old, leaving his Inventions not fully de veloped, and his wife, knowing his formulae and plans, continued where he left off and In turn transmitted the Inventions to her son, the late William F. Coston, who carried on the business until August last, when be died as the result of an explosion In his laboratory on Staten Island. Mr. Coston trans mitted the formulae and patents to his daughter, Miss Aline H. Coston, who Is 21 years old. Miss Costen was at first disposed to sell out ber interests In their entirety, but being a spirited young woman she took a second thought on the matter, with the result that she reached the conclusion that there was no reason why she should not carry on the busi ness herself. To this end she organ ized a stock company recently, and with several members of her family as share holders and corporate officers ts con ducting the business herself, coming regularly to her office In New York and maintaining a general oversight of the works and laboratory on Staten Island. The principle of the Coston signal Is a series of different colored lights, burned in succession from the same cartridge. The different alternate com binations of color correspond to num bers in a code book, and different code books are made for commercial and naval ships, for railroads, for telegraph lines, for the life-saving service, for the lake marine, for different yacht clubs, for the regular army, the .National Guard, and so forth. Miss Coston, like other members of the family, has been brought up to know the business thoroughly and in studying It has become somewhat ex pert as a chemist. New York Sun. Devices to Pi event Collisions. In an English watering town, where the streets are narrow In some quar ters, a highly novel expedient has been devised to avoid accidents due to col lisions of teams and cyclers at sucb street corners. Two mirrors, about a yard square each, are attached to a lamp post at points where a narrow street runs at right angles Into the main thoroughfare. These are so plac ed that the users of the roadway can see what Is moving along the other street before reaching the corner, There are many localities In large cities this ingenious expedient of minimizing risk of collision might be utilized with advantage. All Actors Want It. "There's a man out In the waiting room," said the great man's secretary. "I think he's a bum actor." "Why do you think so?" "He says he's anxious te get an audl-ence."-PhIladelphla Press. God Is on the side of virtue; for who ever dreads punishment suffers it, and whoever deserves It dreads It Coltoa WITH k rf. - J f t I sketch is written. ( ''Ji 7 genuity. Until then the trail and pack train Is the only practicable way ol traversing these grand ami lofty defiles, where the forests bend, the rocks are washed out by the clouds, the mountain streams roar their way into the sea, and the fish and game thrive In seclusion. Stretching acrjn this region of tremendous distance:, high elevations, and abrupt declivities, runs an old Indian trail of historic renown. It waa origi nally known as the northern Net Perce Indian trail, In contradistinction to the southern Net Perce trail farther south. It is now and has long been kuown m the Lolo trail, and it extends from a I'oint about eleven miles south from Mis soula, Mont., westward to the Clearwater river In Idaho, It was over the west ern part of this well-worn trail that the writer essayed to make his way In the summer of l'J02, having been previously over the eastern portion. I have said that thin trail is historic. In a general way it is the rente used by Lewis and Clark in crossing the watershed between the Hitter-root and Clearwater tlvers both being brand ca of the Columbia in 1N05 and lHOfl, and the story of their experiences there reads like fiction. In 187? Chief Jos eph and the Nes Perce Indians, after beginning the well-known war of that year in Idaho, retreated across this trail Into Montane, followed by tieneral Howard and the United States troops in a long and for that pait of the army, a fruitless stern chase. Mr. W, 11. Wright, a thorough mountaineer with whom I had befote cam paigned had provided for our tiip a pack train, outfit, and cook, which were rendezvoused at Kamiah, Idaho, on the Clearwater Short H.ine of the Northern Pacific Hallway. Kamiah is in one of the most attractive valleys I have ever seen. The val ley is rather circular aod oblong iu she, has a delightful climate and is sur rounded by high, most gracefully carved and grassy mountain slopes. Above these slopes to the south stretch the wide, fe. ti'e plains of Camas prairie. Here live the Net Perce Indians and, sandwiched among them, many wliito set tlers. The Indians have taken up the old lands of their reservation In severalty, and the surplus acres have been sold to the whites. The Indians have fine farms along the Clearwater and even high up among the hills, and both teds and whites appear to thrive with lit tle or no friction. Grain and vegetables grow to perfection here, and grapes, cherries, peaches, and other fruits find a natural soil snd a congenial climate that cannot be surpassed. Through this valley, its mountain walla mottled by the grain fields of the Indian fsrms in varying degrees of ripeness, flows the Clearwater river, fresh from the junction of the south and middle forks, and a rapid and clear water stream indeed. Up a long, brown slope from the stream, and just across from fine ferry owned and managed by an Indian, wound down stream waa the spot where Lewis and Clark camped tor some time in 1806, when on their return from Fort Clatsop at the mouth of the Columbia river. There were four of ns: Wright, whoso detailed knowledge of the region was most thorough; Casteel, the cook and a master of bis craft; Mr. lie Camp, a painter and photographer of Helena, Mont., and the writer. We left Kamiah at 9:00 o'clock one morning, crossed the trail, in packing the horses some time three animals had to be blindfolded while developed great disinclination to thus disposed of tc cavort around ami "buck." A pack saddle is much like an old fathloned saw buck. Over the boms side ropes are iwnng, with large loops hanging down the sides. With these, side packs the heavier packs always are fastened securely well down on the horse's sides, and above and between the saddle horns and over the horse's back the top and lighter pack aie placed. The vass pack cover and lashed on with a pack bitch, from the diamond shape formed pack. A regulation pack rope with broad length. Two men are required to pack a necessary if the animal be tractable. Our route was np an unshielded elimbed 1,000 feet, and the latter part of places toe wise climber and traiisman we did as much as possib'e, but two of us were fresh from offices and had to be gradually broken in. The legs of Wright and Casteel might as well have been of wood or steel so tar as any feeling of saddle once during the trip, and this is his usual way ol doing; be loves walk ing and appears tireless. After reaching the summit we traveled for a mile across pine and tama rack tree divide, which is being gradually I'sck Horse Lying Down, Knowing Method ot Tying on Pack, the descent to the crossing of Lolo creek, fortunately, a duplicate in name of another creek on the eastern slope of the same range. Heretofore the old trail and modern wagon road had been mote or less commingled, but now the road disappeared and the trail became one of those fine old Indian trails, wide, plain and deep, winding down through the forest and along the mountain side in the usual sharp zigzag fashion. At last we reached the Lolo, a clear rushing stream thirty feet wide and knee deep, In a wild, secluded spot. Other visitors had just arrived. A fine looking Nez Perce Indian; bis comely squaw and tier mother, perhaps : a black headed, black evod youngbter, five or sis years old and etark naked, and a tiny miss clad in a very dirty calico shift, were there. About a little fire the women were preparing a noonday meal. To the young squaw's ere lit, she carefully washed her hands and face at the border ol the st earn before not strange, however, for the Nez I'erces are a superior tribe of Indians in all respect. Aler some bantering conversation the canyon, over a tiara, tiresome trail, and then, down a gentle grade through the deep cool forest, made our way to the eastern side of Weinpe ( wee-ine) Drab rie, where we bivouacked for the night ana near people wno Know now to treat travelers in a hospitable mannor. We made our first camp at 4:'0 p. m., very tired and hungry, having eaten nothing since our 6 o'clock breakfast. The benefits ot a good cook were now manifested. We slept in the open air, and how I did rejoico in it 1 Our next day's journey followed a wagon road tor most ol the way and about at right anglee to our first day's course. The country, level at first, soon became undulating, and finally we jumped fairly into the mountains. ' Ihe Weippe prairie is a wide, lovel stretch of country watered by Jim Ford creek, which Hows north and west into the main Clearwater river, Uraln, in cluding winter wheat, and the hardier vegetables, grow luxuriantly, but mel ons, cucumbers, etc., have not yet been successfully cultivated. The nights are cold, heavy dews fall, and frost is quite common. In winter the thermometer A PACK TRAIN IN IDAHO By OLIN D. WHEELER. Atrip into the mountains will) a pack train mulct modoiatdy tavoiahle circumstances is, lor the man who can thoroughly enjoy nature and oncouven tionality in traveling, a rare treat. In the hope that readers ol "Wonderland 11)03" may enjoy a brief sketch of a pack train journey' into a little known and very mountainous region in Idaho, this The Divide between Montana and Idaho is the summit lino ol the Hittorroot mointalu. This range is justly re pute I one ot the most forbidding ami dilllcull range on the continent through w hlch to travel. The engineering obsta cles to railways ami wagon roadsare extreme ly hard to overcome, but eventually (bene will necessarily yield to lui man persistency and in !'rk lions Ready For Parking. the trail we were to take, and a mile river on the terry and started np the was lost in adjusting packs, and two or packing them. One horse, buckskin, being made a Mast ol burden, and was whole is then covered with a heavy can rope in a form known as diamond by the tightened rope over the top of the canvass cinch is thirty-two feet in horse or mule, but one can do it when slope in the biasing sun until we had the way was very steep. At such ciiinhs afoot and relieves tils horse. I his faligue went. Wright was not In the cleared by settlers, and then began flowing into the Clearwater and, un beginning her culinary dutios. This is back and forth, we climbed slowly out of under a pine tree in 8 forly-acre pasture lit -wldem drops Mow zero, hut there la a go d fall of in , and live stock inn t , I ted lor eeveial months. The stock throughout this locality were ol good blood, tat and eleek. ri l.r n.l fuel are found In Inexhaustible quantities. lb country Is quite well settled and the people seem satisfied and contented. 1 ........, t .1..... ..... .!..!.. - .1 W had given the animal all 111 tinioiuy imv iney miring ma nltflit. and when we came to pack them. Hiickskln was veiy loploltl.al ami tin. agiued his neck was clothed with thunder and that be breathed Die from hie nostrils; Koan was in a mHd to cllinli trees and piy a laiuw witn 1111 heels, but the others were very well behaved, and submitted to packing with good grace and the Inevitable groanlngs characteristic ot old-time ramp meeting and tight cinching. Old White and Morrel thin as rails, tinweildv and akard aa a steady as old maid, old a Methusaleh, l m. l nance. In trailing, Wright led the way, leading Hoan; one of us lolli ), and then the other liorre were divided as well as ponlble betweeu US, so as to keep them well up in line on the trail. Up and down we went, passing three small creek trilling their way amid the dense timber, and we balled lor lb night at the forks of Ulo rret k where eolltu le reigned supreme. There were no bottom laud, ho grating, but the spot ws otberwire tuitahle for a night' ramp, and lide a beautiful trout stream, and we had brought along oats for the dumb brute who were nesnr. ly tied up during the night. Koan and lluckskln bad evidently never ouiied a taste lor oat, lor they refused to eat them and seemed surpicloti a to our motive In offering them. Our d.y' trailing had been longer than anticipated and two of us at least wote very tired. IVl'aiup, however, got - - , out his rod and line and was soon wad ing the creek and whipping the rapids, ami he secured a mess of trout for breakfast. 1 bath 'd my fnveiel feet lu the cold dream, changed hit shoes, and, after the royal upar provided, felt like a different man. We erected, usually, only the ccok'i tent, our ranva Imlcover being all needed protection except In rase of a heavy rain. Towards mini Ing, of this night, it began to rain and ny the time we were packed and ready to start the tain was steadily falling, and as we got well into the forest the trees dripped moinliire.tlie bushes along do the lrll deluged 0111 - legs and feet with crystal drop beautilul but coldly wet, and in th own snot the mist lloated, bjptialng n plentifully a w rode along and hiding Irout view the country about us. On thl day, to-i, one ol the riding borne, apparently In (air condition, gave completely out and had to le left behind. Our erstwhile bucking friend, put under a pack for the first limn, lost all interest In our proceedings, and was driven Into camp long alter the other reached there, almost i haunted. Our ramp was at a clearing tn the mo intalns shown on the map a Wei. til meadows. It is a fresh, green bit of mountain meadow-laud In tin depths ot the range, a fine camping miI where clear, pure water, gterii gras, and fuel are more than abundant. The meadows, while being much higher than Ka miah, so mm h so that the rhiinge In temperature wa easily noticeable, were yet at the base of the highest part of th 1 align, aod were twenty five miles fiom the next camping ground. The special object of the expedition wa thoroughly accomplished despite our forced delay, and on the third day we again gathered the horse, placed the packs upon their back alter some snorting and ravoitlng, and started lo re trace o'lr steps. Untkskln pulled up his picket pin and led Wright a longeha) through the swamp and wet grass, but wa finally totalled, thrown, and blind folded, and, once finally packed, trudged along like a god ami subotdinale sol dier, occasionally lying down in the vain hope ot being released from hi pack. The rain ceaed long enough to enable us to got our pack on w ithout get- "1"'1"11'1"- We were now reduced to one riding " ' horse tor four men. ily noontime our equine (rlend with the bucking propensities. Kln laboring under a pack, gave evidences of nervous or other sort of prostration, and his pack ws transferred to the one remaining saddle horse who as utned the burden like the trump that Wtn"' UUft '" 1,10 dtty "b,"'kBr" 0Ut ntiry. 1 w sbaiidoned Evory man must needs make the entire distance to Kamiah afoot, and the wo tenderfcet In more senses than one-hoed the alternative with the best grace possible. The day's tramp was a hard one, truly, and we reached the forks of the Lolo once more, very tired and hungry. Just before reaching there, old Sorrel, who at timet was the embodiment ot awkwardness slipped at a bad point In the trail and rolled over and over in picturesque fashion down the stoop mountain-side. Ills pack sived him from injury, but It reqnirod fifteen minutes to work Mm back to the trail for It was an awkward place for such a mishap. Rorrei cut an Interesting fig'r i, , sprawled on his hack tor a time, hi. feet pawing the air in an effort to right Lejvli and Clark had passed along here a century Wore, and we were blv ked at the forks ot the Collins creek. ouac o'clock it" t.lyll T,", '"l0 ,Kam",,h, Wn early and was ended by Urn., ouloik. It waa absolulely a pleasurable one. Through the cool for' st we trudged, gradually ascending, the day clear and balmy, crossed tne 1' Ide anil descended to Lolo creek, whore we t-xik the packs from the pack ai i naL d gave them a tlmm-houtV rest, and ate our luncheon. Not a horse r" sod la Jer Iouh objection to the work demanded. Kven Buckskin Z lustre, and they all followed the trail in better fashion. obstrepetous, We forded Lolo cruek, which was km deep, arid the cold rushing current was most grate ul in Its cooling effects, and then began our Inst n ward cl mb We stopped at interval, of about 200 feet vertical SnnnSwxXtolZ' I was the eas lest, most ei.oyal,U climb of the sort I ever saw made, a ml it w.i alrro.t astonishing he ea-e with which our nondescript outfit did it. TlVhwy timber .hleldeil u. rom the hot sun ami we were refreshed by distint views ot Rock ridne over which the clouds still linng. mn views 01 With a little more tl.no and a little less rain titles Jaunt would' have been horoughly enjoyable from beginning to end. As It was, it 1. a good lu tTa tion of what may result, in such an-enterprise, from . , K,t iJT, , nluns or iiwniiinliri.nau In nn,n..,.i 1 .1 . . m"n" ' '"" i"i'"""on. wneiner uy neglect cr forced by clr- I'acklug cnniHtatices. It illustrates, too. how much ImrduhU ..-i " ' to it m,y endure without .erS Z St en without any preliminary practice, I lunged into mountain traveT fo, tn a tint published in "Wonderland" tor 1003, copyrighted by Chas goneral passengor airent Nnrthni-n ratn t!i ' " '"u "J - were 1 Id tuner as pa s Horses, were pair of cows, hut tough a mule, a and ol a sternly moral ct el count. Wtt t'talile. Attiuwt l'srki. ling everything wet, and then began again In an aimless fashion, but Anally we rode out ot It entirely. Hut the in 1st and clouds remained about Welti for a week afterward. The first lg hours' travel were through dripping foliage, and we became thoroughly wet. From the higher divide we now ob tained glimpxesof the region around us. Kldge alter ridge, heavily timbered, ex tended from east to west, with deep, yawning ravine and canon between. To the noith the north fork of the Clear water could oe traced, with white, heav ily massed cloud lying motionless In the depression, a moil beautiful aiuht. mam Up, B. Fee, . t- h.wJaX 31 ..... - .. A Miiuu ibau way.