CAMP LIFE NEAR THE TETONS 



pursuing my course some distance along the 

 side of a steep hill my attention was suddenly 

 arrested by the sound of breaking branches 

 in the spruce nearby. I had not long to wait 

 before a spike-horned elk stepped out in 

 front of me not more than twenty-five or 

 thirty yards off. The large brown eyes were 

 looking straight at me with a mildness and 

 apparent absence of fear, which removed all 

 thought of slaughter from my mind, although 

 at that time I had never killed an elk. 



The poor quality of the head as a trophy 

 determined my action. After gazing a few 

 seconds I turned my steps in the direction I 

 thought the herd had taken its course. A 

 long, shrill whistle, ending in a squeal, 

 blended with a bray like a donkey, soon in- 

 formed me of the whereabouts of the bull I 

 was seeking. Climbing over the crest of the 

 hill I finally caught sight of the old bull in 

 thei^ valley with a bunch of cow elk collected 

 around him, which had increased by this time 

 "5 



