142 CAMP-FIRES IN THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



instant his face lighted up with a gleam of intelligence, 

 and he looked sharply at me. 



"An elk, Charlie?" 



After a little pause, with his glass at his eyes, he 

 answered, 



"Yes; a full-grown bull. . . . That's the fellow 

 whose trail we found yesterday in False Notch." 



Far down in the bottom of the basin, where the green 

 timber halted at the foot of our slope, an elk had walked 

 out into the middle of a little grass-plat, as if to give us 

 the pleasure of seeing him. He carried a good pair of 

 antlers, and he looked big and beautiful. It was indeed 

 a keen pleasure to see a living, wild, adult bull elk in 

 British Columbia, and to know for fair that even there 

 the species is not yet extinct. 



For about five minutes the majestic animal grazed 

 on the grass-plat, then marched to the edge of his little 

 glade, and browsed on some of the green branches that 

 he found there. Finally, like a dissolving view he van- 

 ished in the thick green timber, and we saw him no more. 

 It was the only elk that was seen on that trip. 



There was no other game visible in the great basin; 

 and we voted unanimously that it was out of the ques- 

 tion to descend that long eastward slope, hunt through 

 the basin, and recross the mountain to camp, all in one 

 afternoon. 



We decided to hunt back home by skirting the east- 

 ern mountain-side of Avalanche Creek, at timber-line, 

 and thereby have a good look for both bear and sheep. 



First we went to look at the carcasses of the four 



