Still-Hunting Elk on the Mountain 313 



first one shot down was already dead. The second 

 was only wounded, though it could not rise. When 

 it saw us coming it sought to hide from us by laying 

 its neck flat on the ground, but when we came up 

 close it raised its head and looked proudly at us, 

 the heavy mane bristling up on the neck, while its 

 eyes glared and its teeth grated together. I felt 

 really sorry to kill it. Though these were both well- 

 grown elks, their antlers, of ten points, were small, 

 twisted, and ill-shaped; in fact hardly worth pre 

 serving, except to call to mind a chase in which 

 during a few minutes I did as much downright 

 hard work as it has often fallen to my lot to do. 

 The burnt earth had blackened our faces and hands 

 till we looked like negroes. 



The bull elk had at this time begun calling, and 

 several times they were heard right round camp at 

 night, challenging one another or calling to the 

 cows. Their calling is known to hunters as &quot;whis 

 tling&quot; ; but this is a most inappropriate name for it. 

 It is a most singular and beautiful sound, and is very 

 much the most musical cry uttered by any four- 

 footed beast. When heard for the first time it is 

 almost impossible to believe that it is the call of an 

 animal ; it sounds far more as if made by an ^Eolian 

 harp or some strange wind instrument. It consists 

 of quite a series of notes uttered continuously, in a 

 most soft, musical, vibrant tone, so clearly that they 

 can be heard half a mile off. Heard in the clear, 

 frosty moonlight from the depths of the rugged and 

 forest-clad mountains the effect is most beautiful; 



N VOL. IV. 



