I had often heard of a hunter's paradise, and when I got sight of
this lovely valley, with its thousands of wild animals of almost
every description known to the continent, I made up my mind that
if there ever was such a place as a hunter's paradise, I had
surely found it. The high mountains with scattering pine trees on
the sides; the snowy white peaks above the timber line, and the
many little mountain streams and rills that paid tribute to the
main stream that coursed this beautiful valley, all combined to
form a scene of magnificent grandeur. The quaking-asp, balm and
various other kinds of small timber that grew along the streams
all helped to add to the beauty of the scene.
We crossed over to the west side to a cove that ran back some
twelve miles from the main valley; here, we decided, was the best
place to establish our winter quarters. Every little mountain
stream in the valley was alive with beaver, and Uncle Kit thought
it so late that we would not be bothered by the Indians that fall,
but, that we would have to get out early the following spring.
Feeling perfectly safe, we built our cabin this winter entirely on
top of the ground, consequently we were not long in getting our
winter quarters completed and were soon ready to start in
trapping. We had excellent success this winter; very little snow
to contend with, making it much better getting around than usual
and an easier task to look after strings of traps.
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