We broke camp and passed through Meeker early the following morning. The town—the site of the old military post—is pleasantly situated on a level place in the valley, skirted on one side by low hills and on the other by the river, from which rises a steep bluff; on the summit of this stands the remains of an adobe signal station, profiled against the background of sky. There is a square in the town, and surrounding it the adobe buildings erected by the government, but now utilized by the peaceful citizens as dwellings or stores. Indians are not presumed capable of bombs, mortars or big guns, and, of course, in selecting a military post with a view to their methods and capabilities a valley with water is better than a hill-top without. The country is rich with ripening grain, and every available acre is either being prepared for cultivation or is actually under tillage. The mountains that border all this valley are low and many covered with timber to their summits. Between the gaps of the closer hills one may discover glades opulent in pasturage.
Near noon we lunched at an excellent spring a little way from the forks of the river. We were overtaken here by Mr. Dide on horseback, for whom we had left, at the hotel, an invitation to join us. He had provided himself with a new rod and a pair of blankets. What the settlers thought of a man on horseback, with a glass in his eye and an umbrella over his head, riding through the country, has not yet transpired. He had experienced some difficulty at the start; the horse, objecting to the extraordinary equipment of the rider, had endeavored to throw him off, but failing in that, ran away. The dogs also had added to his discomfiture by making frequent sorties, threatening his legs and vociferously assailing the heels of his steed. Mr. Dide had, however, survived all impediments and came up smiling.
The valley of the South Fork is somewhat narrower than that of the main river through which we had come. The brush marks the course of the stream on the left, and beyond it the mountains rise gradually for perhaps two thousand feet, while to the right they reach about the same altitude. The aspen groves are abundant, their lighter green foliage being interspersed with the darker hue of the pines, clothing the sloping hillsides from the base to the summit. The road is smooth and we can trot the horses readily. At times we are close to the river and again half a mile away. Coming to a great clump of bushes on the left, a family of willow grouse was flushed from the grass near the road-side; there were six in the flock, and the major potted four of the young ones, they having alighted in the adjacent trees. We had gathered up the birds and gone but a little way when Joshua cried out excitedly:
"Look at her! look at her! right ahead there, in the road. Where's the rifle—gimme the rifle!"
Not two hundred feet from us stood a magnificent doe, broadside on, and an easy shot for the veriest tyro that ever pulled trigger. Instead of bringing the rifle to bear or giving it to Mr. Miles, the Major waved his hat and shouted. The beauty ceased staring at us and bounded away gracefully toward the aspens on the right.
"What'n thunder!—Major! you do beat all, that's a fact. Did anybody ever see such a pretty shot!" exclaimed Joshua regretfully and with an expression of disgust.
"Mr. Miles, you should understand, as well as the rest of us, that it is against the law to kill does at this time; it is the close season, and I have no doubt she has a suckling fawn hid not a hundred yards away. We'll have no law-breaking; if we need venison we will take one with horns, not kill the mother and leave the babies to starve. Think of it, man; think of the cruelty of it!"
"Hannup, Woman! ga'lang, Baby," was the only response from Joshua. It came with vigor; disgust pervaded his entire system. We passed the clump of willows, when Mr. Dide, who was trotting along behind, exclaimed:
"Aw, Majah! look theah."
Turning, we saw a buck that had just made its way out of the cover, running swiftly across the road and making for the mountain side. Joshua brought down his whip upon the horses with his usual admonition to them, but given in a tone that indicated a determination to eschew venison or even the thought of it. The Major smiled with the satisfaction of a man who realizes having made an impression. Reaching the foot of a slight rise the horses were permitted to slacken their pace, and silence reigning at the time, Joshua broke out with one of his familiar hymns: