A Day with the Elk 



Early in September of 1890, we were in 

 camp in the northern part of Colorado, an 

 easy day's ride from the Wyoming line. Our 

 party, eight in all, consisted of myself, three 

 friends, three packers, and a cook. We had 

 been out nearly a month, and after the first 

 week our success had been good. We were 

 taking life very easily — hunting a little, fish- 

 ing now and then, and doing a great deal of 

 healthy "lying round camp." 



Game was very plentiful. There were black- 

 tail and elk all around us. The antelope, 

 than whom the ammunition manufacturer has 

 no truer friend, were within easy reach. One 

 of the party had bagged two bears, and a 

 packer had found a dead one, whose fore- 

 paws and ears were sufficiently preserved to 

 be worth a $10 bounty to the finder. 



The outfit with two exceptions was con- 

 tent. Our cook, having surreptitiously drunk 

 all the whisky, was struggling with an in- 

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