296 Still-Hunting Elk. 



country ; and the rocky sides of the sheer gorges were 

 clad with a thick growth of dwarfed cedars, while here 

 and there the trailing Virginia creepers burned crimson 

 among their sombre masses. 



We hunted stealthily up-wind, across the line of the 

 heavily timbered coulies. We soon saw traces of our 

 quarry ; old tracks at first, and then the fresh footprints 

 of a single elk a bull, judging by the size which had 

 come down to drink at a mirey alkali pool, its feet slip- 

 ping so as to leave the marks of the false hoofs in the soft 

 soil. We hunted with painstaking and noiseless care 

 for many hours ; at last as I led old Manitou up to 

 look over the edge of a narrow ravine, there was a 

 crash and movement in the timber below me, and im- 

 mediately afterwards I caught a glimps of a great bull 

 elk trotting up through the young trees as he gallantly 

 breasted the steep hill-side opposite. When clear of 

 the woods, and directly across the valley from mej he 

 stopped and turned half round, throwing his head in 

 the air to gaze for a moment at the intruder. My 

 bullet struck too far back, but, nevertheless, made a 

 deadly wound, and the elk went over the crest of the 

 hill at a wild, plunging gallop. We followed the bloody 

 trail for a quarter of a mile, and found him dead in a 

 thicket. Though of large size, he yet had but small 

 antlers, with few points. 



