TWENTY YEARS IN THE ROCKIES. IO5 



the bark torn from the trees. Small bushes had been demol- 

 ished by bull elks brushing the velvet from their antlers. 



The northern country was rough and broken, but I 

 located several quaking-asp thickets, and, knowing that 

 springs must abound there, I started toward them. Hav- 

 ing crossed the park, I found many trails. I selected the 

 one most traveled and soon came to the remains of a bison 

 calf, killed the day before and partially eaten. I dismounted 

 for a close examination and found by fresh footprints that 

 a mountain lion, a bear, a lynx and some smaller animals 

 had been in the vicinity, so I made my way carefully down 

 the stream. 



Presently I saw the sun glinting on the silken skin of 

 a bobcat which lay asleep. His paws were stretched out and 

 he was resting as quietly in the warm sun as though the 

 avenger were not on his trail. I quietly drew my rifle from 

 the sling, inserted a 45-85 cartridge and placed it on a line 

 with Mr. Bobcat's shoulders. I touched the trigger and 

 there was a sharp report. My victim gave one gasp, his 

 muscles twitched and with the jerking of his legs all was 

 over. His spotted skin has been reanimated by the taxider- 

 mist, and now adorns my den, where he watches a large 

 sandhill crane, forever silent, yet alert. 



I now made my way down the ravine up which I had 

 come. There was a well-beaten trail leading directly 

 through this, and I was passing along at a rapid pace when 

 I flushed a band of .twenty-five elks. They went off like 

 a flash, having winded me. I sprang from my horse in time 

 to see a calf just as it went quartering down the hill. My 

 first shot, which struck him in the flank, laid him in the 

 trail. I was soon on the ground, and found him to be a fat 

 fellow, though late and of course small. After his carcass 

 was secured behind my saddle I followed the band down 



