216 The Wilderness Hunter 



call made our veins thrill; it sounded like the cry 

 of some huge beast of prey. At last we heard the 

 roar of the challenge not eighty yards off. Steal- 

 ing forward three or four yards, I saw the tips of 

 the horns through a mass of dead timber and young 

 growth, and I slipped to one side to get a clean 

 shot. 



Seeing us but not making out what we were, 

 and full of fierce and insolent excitement, the wapiti 

 bull stepped boldly toward us with a stately swing- 

 ing gait. Then he stood motionless, facing us, 

 barely fifty yards away, his handsome twelve-tined 

 antlers tossed aloft, as he held his head with the 

 lordly grace of his kind. I fired into his chest, and 

 as he turned I raced forward and shot him in the 

 flank ; but the second bullet was not needed, for the 

 first wound was mortal, and he fell before going 

 fifty yards. 



The dead elk lay among the young evergreens. 

 The huge, shapely body was set on legs that were as 

 strong as steel rods, and yet slender, clean, and 

 smooth ; they were in color a beautiful dark brown, 

 contrasting well with the yellowish of the body. 

 The neck and throat were garnished with a mane of 

 long hair; the symmetry of the great horns set off 

 the fine, delicate lines of the noble head. He had 

 been wallowing, as elk are fond of doing, and the 

 dried mud clung in patches to his flank ; a stab in the 

 haunch showed that he had been overcome in battle 



