After Wapiti in Wyoming 
eight horses thoroughly tired, and three men 
in a condition which admitted of only the 
fewest words with the longest possible inter- 
vals between. Gloom overhung the outfit. 
These feelings disappeared as soon as we 
had finished our supper, and we had just 
lighted our pipes when, close by our camp- 
fire, we heard clearly the call of a bull elk. Up 
to that time I had not had a shot at this, the 
grandest of all the deer family, and I was 
quickly on my feet, rifle in hand. Wading 
the brook, I stalked as hurriedly as I dared 
toward an opening some forty rods beyond. 
It was just the last glimmer of daylight, and 
I made time until I came to the bank, over 
which I could look into the open park where 
I felt the royal beast was. What a picture 
greeted my gaze! The park was perhaps 
four hundred yards across, and nearly oval in 
shape, and from the opposite side ran out, 
nearly to the middle, a plateau some thirty 
feet in height. On the point of this, standing 
as immovable as one of Barye’s bronzes, was 
a bull elk with antlers that would please the 
most fastidious sportsman in the world. Ina 
moment he elevated his head and gave a call 
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