Russell and I were up early in the morning having packed our best clothes in our bags and donned outfits adapted for a rough journey. Now. we were ready to start our adventure. Most of our luggage was left at the hotel. All we took with us was our guns, a .30-.40 Winchester for each of us, a .22 Stephens for Russell, a .25 Ballard for me, a small handbag containing 200 rounds of ammunition for the large rifles, and several hundred for the smaller ones. We also had a large canvas mail sack containing extra clothing for both of us plus an old alligator leather bag for toilet articles and a few little extras such as fly-fishing tackle and various small items. We wanted to easily find any of our gear without having to search for it. We also brought a couple of trout fly rods. The guns and rods were securely strapped together in one bundle and stowed under the seats of the buckboard when it was brought around to the door of the hotel.
I must confess, I had a rather vague idea of what a “buckboard” was but hoped for something better than what greeted our eyes when a common three-seated spring wagon drew up to the hotel. We were told that this was the “famous buckboard” bound for Cora, some 120 miles up the valley.
There were three other passengers or candidates who wanted passage besides us four sportsmen who wanted to leave Opal that morning. Only one of the three could be accommodated, a hale and hearty Englishman, who was more than 75 years of age. He worked in the rough and tiring business of traveling through the cattle-raising regions soliciting shipments of cattle for an Omaha meat-packing establishment which employed him.
We drove around to the Post Office and the driver took the mail in a dozen or more bulky sacks which were securely strapped in a pile behind the rear seat with a tarpaulin pulled over it in case of rain. One could not help but notice the extreme care used regarding the property of the United States. A private citizen and his luggage were of little importance, but the mail must be protected from all hazards.
This story is continued in the book “Monarch of the Glen: A True Adventure Story of a Big Game Hunt in Wyoming – 1900″ by Graham M. Mott.
