and we trudged to camp. We hung our game up on a couple of stunted
stumps and skinned them. Then we prepared supper. We cooked potatoes and
rice, made coffee, and cornbread, and fried the antelope livers with
bacon. Just as our meal was ready, our roustabout came into camp, riding
one of the horses barebacked, with only a halter and leading the other
two. He had had his hat blown away and was bareheaded. He was nearly
frozen, having started off in the morning without his coat.

Horses Recovered.

He trailed the horses, which were traveling before the wind, for twelve
miles. Fortunately at a point on the south side of the valley, they
entered a ravine, in which there was plenty of bunch grass. Here,
sheltered from the wind, they fed up the ravine a mile or so, where he
found them lying down in a sheltered spot near a water hole. He had had
nothing to eat since leaving us. Coming back he faced the wind until it
died away. Riding a horse bareback, with a halter for a bridle, and
leading two other horses, you can well imagine was no picnic. We tied
the animals to some willow stumps, so there was no danger of their
getting loose, and gave them a feed of barley. By this time the
roustabout was thawed out by our fire, and we had supper.

As we had all the antelope we wanted, we made our plans for the next
day. Chauvin knew the country thoroughly. He proposed that the next
morning we go to where the horses had been found, and proceed up that
canyon onto the Liebre ranch to a camping spot he knew of. He was
certain we would find deer there. At peace with the world, we went to
bed that night well fed and contented. Next morning we had antelope
steak, right out of the loin, for breakfast. I never tasted better meat
but once, and that was a moose steak served us one morning at the Hotel