The next night found them camped in a protected ravine near a stream from which water was obtained and some pretensions to comfort prevailed. For the first time elk meat formed a part of the evening meal, and a feeling of good cheer followed a hearty repast. The next morning as Jack climbed the side of the long south slope, covered with stunted sage brush, to get the horses that had found plenty of feed, he came face to face with a tawny-skinned animal that came up out of one ravine as Jack emerged from another, about a hundred yards apart. No firearms, not even a hunting knife, were at hand. To flee would be but an invitation to tempt the mountain lion to possible attack, so Jack sauntered along, carelessly as he could under the circumstances, in the direction of the ponies. The lion kept on his own course, crossing Jack's path and eventually disappearing in a deep arroya, or gulch, all the while turning his head from side to side watching but not attempting to molest either Jack or the horses.
The next camping spot selected was on the bank of Rock Creek, where a bend of the stream deflected by high rocks left a well timbered, protected area, surrounded on three sides by precipitous slopes of the adjacent "benches" covered with sage brush, these "benches" or mesas extending to the high ridges towering above, one facing the north, the other the south, the former bleak and covered with deep snow, the latter, warm and sun-kissed, furnishing feed for horses. The building of a cabin occupied a few days, which, when equipped with a fireplace, a bunk having about eighteen inches of spruce boughs as a mattress, and other frontier conveniences, made a trapper's home.
Deer were abundant. In an evening or in the early morning hundreds of the great muleheaded species could be seen winding their way to and from the feeding grounds, or wandering aimlessly about. Traps were set out, bait doctored with "dead medicine" or poison tacked to trees and stumps where foxes, wolves and lions were likely to find it, and the regular life of "catching fur" was commenced.
A band of Ute Indians that had left the White River Agency established their village two miles below the cabin at a point where Rock Creek joined another stream—Toponas, or "Pony"—and then flowed on to its confluence with the Grand River. These Indians became visitors to the cabin and among them Jack found one, Yamanatz, a friendly and peaceable savage.
The village was destitute of food and ammunition, in fact, no means were at their command for obtaining game, therefore they heralded the trappers' arrival with gladness, for they expected to be able to obtain powder and bullets with which to obtain venison.
The second visit Yamanatz made to the Rock Creek camp, he was accompanied by his beautiful daughter Chiquita, a girl of seventeen, richly attired in beaded skirt, leggings and moccasins. She rode astride of a magnificent chestnut brown, full-blooded Ute pony, a large Navajo blanket drawn tightly about her, Indian fashion. She carried a bow and from her back hung a quiver of arrows. Her well molded face was set in its frame of straight, black hair, braided in two long strands into which were interwoven pieces of lion skin, beaver fur and other bits of "medicine" charms to drive away evil spirits. A string of elk teeth adorned her neck and bands of heavy silver ornaments bedecked her arms.
Indians are similar to other folks in many respects. A proper introduction generally puts them on a gracious footing. It did not take long for Jack and Chiquita to strike up a fast friendship, and the old adage of "feed the brute" held good with both Indian buck and maiden.
The cabin was but partly "chinked" when the old trapper announced his intention of going to Hot Sulphur Springs.
"I left the old woman without enough wood and must go back to cut some for her. Then there are some other matters to attend to which will take a week or ten days, after which I will come back and bring what mail is at the Springs for you," he explained.
Little did Jack realize, in fact, he did not suspect, there might be other reasons for this sudden determination on the part of the trapper. It did not occur to him the seeming folly of a man leaving his wife unprovided with wood. The trip of a hundred miles or more in the dead of winter over unbroken trails was not so much of an obstacle for a man experienced in mountain life; but he did not then know that the Utes' camp was made up of some of the worst characters from the White River Agency, nor that the band was there against the wishes of Indian Agent Meeker, who had requested their return more than once.