I had wandered a long way and now cut across the country to the camp through rocky canyons and dense cedar growth. I started a bear from his bed but could not find him, and then found that the bear had started a large band of black-tail deer, which ran about a half a mile and then walked leisurely along, cropping the bunch grass here and there. About a mile from camp I jumped a bunch of fourteen of all kinds, and when they broke cover out of a plum thicket I shot a two-year-old spike buck, cut off his hams and carried him to camp, where I found the boys waiting for some venison. Our camp fire already lit up the valley, and the clear running stream glistened as it passed over the granite and quartz of the Porcupine Basin. Great shadows were thrown among the trees like the ghosts and goblins on the ride of Tam O'Shanter, who reveled among the witches and warlocks. But we were hungry and happy and turned our attention to the broiling venison and brewing coffee. After supper we began a study of the mountains and the probable cause of gold being distributed all along the streams in such small quantities. Some said it was deposited by a great glacier from the north, or some volcanic action on or near the natural park, but no theory seemed wholly satisfactory. When the sun illumined a thousand peaks the next morning, after a delightful rest, we rode away from this Holy Grail of the Sheep Eaters, and it was not hard to imagine the character of the little men who lived among these hills and valleys. When we reached the top of the divide we took a south-eastern course for the famous Paint Rock country, near Shell Creek and its tributaries. Our route lay through the sage brush of the Bad Lands, and some of the party were very anxious to stop at a mountain stream and catch some trout. There were some old sluice-boxes and deserted cabins, which were very interesting to the average sightseer. But we pulled on for the Paint Rock, and after ten hours hard ride we arrived on this sacred and historic ground. We picketed our tired horses, piled our packs under a cottonwood tree, and were soon trying to unravel the mysteries of an extinct race. Strange to say no horses were visible on the great calendar of rocks, but men, women, children, and hieroglyphics were crowded on all available places that one could get to register some fact or fancy of this tribe. [Illustration: SHEEP EATERS PASS TO THE HOLY SHRINE] CHAPTER V A TALK WITH LITTLE BEAR The term Paint Rocks will convey various meanings to the average reader. A description seems in order to make more plain what these rocks are like.