112 IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 



low swale, where, by stooping low, we were concealed behind 

 a ridge between us and the game. Here we rose to our feet, 

 and ran up this swale as far as it went in our direction. 

 Then we paused to watch the elk. They were still moving 

 slowly toward the spring, from the south, and we from the 

 east. Another tedious crawl of twenty minutes, that seemed 

 to us like so many hours, brought us to the edge of the 

 thicket of quaking-asp. 



Here we took a breathing spell, for we were now safe 

 from observation, and had plenty of time to reach the spring 

 before our competitors in the race could get there. Then we 

 moved cautiously up through the brush to the opposite edge, 

 near the spring where we could look through, and our race 

 was ended. The band was yet two hundred yards away, and 

 we had plenty of leisure to watch them. They were strung out 

 in single file, led by an old cow, followed by her calf. Next 

 came an old bull, then another cow and calf, then two young 

 bulls, and so on to the end of the line. The leader, with 

 true motherly instinct, watched every moving blade of grass, 

 and every leaf in the thicket, as they rustled in the wind, 

 frequently turning to her calf and caressing it, as much as to 

 say: " Come on, little one, I will take care of you." 



They were evidently the same band that had been there 

 during the night, else they would not have been so cautious 

 about approaching their usual haunt, but they had doubtless, 

 from their distant lookout, seen us move away with our train, 

 and thought we were out of sight long ago. But a feeling of 

 danger seemed to hang over them still, and they showed the 

 care and caution of an Indian warrior in approaching an 

 enemy. It was interesting to study their movements, their 

 wary, cautious advance. At last they reached a point within 

 fifty yards of us, and stopped again. The wind was in our 

 favor, and even at this short distance they could not scent us. 



