Still-Hunting Elk on the Mountain 317 



for many hours, and even if mortally hurt may run 

 twenty miles before falling; while at the same time 

 he does not start off at full speed, and will often give 

 an active hunter a chance for another shot as he 

 turns and changes his course preparatory to taking 

 a straight line. So I raced along after the elk at 

 my very best speed for a few hundred feet, and then 

 got another shot as he went across a little glade, 

 injuring his hip somewhat. This made it all right 

 for me, and another hundred yards burst took me 

 up to where I was able to put a ball in a fatal spot, 

 and the grand old fellow sank down and fell over 

 on his side. 



No sportsman can ever feel much keener pleasure 

 and self-satisfaction than when, after a successful 

 stalk and good shot, he walks up to a grand elk 

 lying dead in the cool shade of the great evergreens, 

 and looks at the massive and yet finely molded form, 

 and at the mighty antlers which are to serve in the 

 future as the trophy and proof of his successful skill. 

 Still-hunting the elk on the mountains is as noble a 

 kind of sport as can well be imagined ; there is noth 

 ing more pleasant and enjoyable, and at the same 

 time it demands that the hunter shall bring into play 

 many manly qualities. There have been few days 

 of my hunting life that were so full of unalloyed 

 happiness as were those spent on the Bighorn range. 

 From morning till night I was on foot, in cool, brac 

 ing air, now moving silently through the vast, mel 

 ancholy pine forests, now treading the brink of high, 

 rocky precipices, always amid the most grand and 



