remember that you did, but it was a good thing to shoe them; the roads between here and town are cruel on horses' feet, and, while one trip won't wear down a team's feet, still, they have work to do all summer, and there is so much gravel in this soil that their feet would be bound to get tender before summer is over."

"Well," replied Hugh, "that's just the way I think. A pair of shoes in front will last them pretty nearly all summer, and when they are shod we know they won't get tender."

While he had been talking, Hugh had whittled himself some tobacco, ground it fine between the palms of his hands, filled his pipe and lit it, and now he sat comfortably by the blaze, with his head encircled by a smoke wreath.

"Well, Hugh," said Mr. Sturgis, "I asked you to come in here so that we could talk about what you and Jack are going to do this summer."

"Well," said Hugh, "that's for you to say, I reckon. I'm working for you—at least I'm supposed to be working for you, but it seems to me that for the last three or four years I haven't been doing much work, because I've been off playing with Jack every summer. Lord, son," he continued with a smile, "what great travelers you and me are getting to be! First we went up to the Blackfeet and played with them a season; that's when you counted your first coup; and then we went up with them another year, and came down south through the mountains and saw all them hot springs in that country, that they used to call Coulter's Hell, in old times; and then last year we went out to the big water in the west and paddled around in the salt water and got fish. You and me surely have got to be great travelers."

"Well, Hugh," said Mr. Sturgis, "I guess we will have to think up something for this year. Of course, you and Jack could sit around and look after the stock, just as the rest of us do here on the ranch, but I believe it would be better for you to go off and make a trip by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Well, Mr. Sturgis," said Hugh, "it really would be pleasant to go off and make a long trip, and there's lots of good country left yet that Jack has not seen, but I don't think I get exactly what you mean. If you will speak a little plainer I will understand better."

"It is like this, Hugh," said Mr. Sturgis; "Jack is out here for the summer, and I want him to have a good time, and to see as much as he can of what there is in this country. It is all beginning to change here so fast that I am afraid the first thing we know the country will be full of people, and every time you want to ride off in some direction you will have to turn out for a wire fence, or you will get lost because there are so many roads running over the prairie. Where do you suppose you could take Jack this summer so as to give him a good time? Of course, I don't want you to take any chances, or to go where there is any danger, but, then, I know you won't do that, so I needn't speak about it."

For some moments Hugh sat silently puffing at his pipe and staring into the fireplace, while Jack, on his left hand, watched his face with absorbed interest, wondering what he would say. Presently he raised his head, and turning to Mr. Sturgis, said, "Well, Mr. Sturgis, there's a mighty nice trip to be made in the high mountains down to the southward. It's a country where there's no possible danger that I can see, though, as you know, it's only a little while ago that the Utes wiped out Major Thornburgh's command. Now everything is peaceable, and likely to remain so, I reckon."

"Where do you mean, Hugh," said Mr. Sturgis, "down in the Parks of Colorado?"

"Yes, sir, that's what I mean. It's a great hunting ground down there still, and besides that, it is a fur country. I have been through there many times, and I never saw any place in the southern country where beaver were so plenty; besides that, as you know, it is up in the high mountains and the fur is good till midsummer. If you all think well of it, Jack and I could go down there and spend a couple of months trapping beaver, and if we have good luck, we might make quite a stake. We wouldn't need to carry much in the way of grub, for the country is full of game, and there are even some bison down there, though it ain't likely that we would get to see any of them. I don't know of any prettier mountains, or where you can live better than you can down there; deer, elk, antelope, sheep, trout, and birds, till you can't rest. That seems to me about the nicest trip one could make without going off far; what do you say to it?"

"That sounds good to me, Hugh," said Mr. Sturgis. "What do you think about it, Jack?"

"Why," said Jack, "it sounds awful good to me. I never thought of making a trip this year. I just thought that I was to come out here and loaf around the ranch, and hunt, and help with the stock."

"No," said Mr. Sturgis, "I think it is better for you to be off in the mountains by yourselves, and if Hugh's plan suits you, it suits me, and you can say that it can be carried out."

"Splendid!" exclaimed Jack.

"But, Hugh," Mr. Sturgis went on, "what's the shortest way to get there; and how would you go?"

"Well," said Hugh, "if we should go, I'd say the best way to do would be to take two or three pack horses and start from here with them. Of course, you can drive a wagon all the way down there, through North and Middle and South Park, but I wouldn't want to take a wagon if I could help it. If you wanted to go up in the mountains, why, you'd have to come back to that wagon. You can't make any cut-offs, or short side trips; you've always got to get back to your wagon again. I say, take some pack animals, and then you will be perfectly foot-loose, and can go where you want to and as far as you want to. If I should go that way, I would start from here, go down the Muddy, cross the Medicine Bow, follow up Rock Creek, and cross over to the Laramie, and follow up the Laramie until I got into North Park. From there, it's plain sailing, either through the valley or among the mountains. Son, here, is a good packer, and with a simple outfit like that we can make good time."

"Then, when you get into the high mountains," said Mr. Sturgis, "you think you can get some beaver, do you?"

"Yes," assented Hugh, "unless things have changed there almightily within a few years. The last time I came through there, I was looking for beaver sign and it seemed to me that all the streams up the mountains were full of beaver, and, as I say, up there in that high country they hold their coats well, and you can trap them until July or August. Indeed, I have known of men that trapped right on through the whole summer, but I don't think it's a good thing to do."

"Is there any other fur there?" said Mr. Sturgis.

"Not much else," answered Hugh. "Of course, there are some marten, and now and then a wolverine or two, but you can't get them until the snow comes. Mink are not worth much, and otter are so few that you might as well count them out of the question, too; but there are some bears; in fact there should be a good many bears, and their coats are good until July; but if we are going to trap, beaver are what we would have to depend upon. Maybe we might catch a bear or two in a dead fall, but I wouldn't bother to take along one of those big steel traps on the chance of getting one or two hides with it. Those traps are not worth bothering with if you have a long way to go. They are all right to set around the ranch, if you think you need a bear hide, or if you have got a wagon to drive around in, but I have no use for them on a pack. I have heard lately that some of these pilgrims that come from the East and are stuck on getting bears, put out baits and set traps near them, but I never could see any fun in that sort of thing. If you want to hunt bears, why,