BEYOND THE TETONS 27 



refer to the detestable and unsportsmanlike practice 

 of tusk-hunting. To explain, I must go back a little. 

 When I first landed in the United States, I noticed 

 that a large number of persons wore small badges 

 on their coats framing the mystic letters B.P.O.E., 

 and either a tiny metal wapiti's head, or a tooth 

 heavily mounted in gold hanging from their watch 

 chains. In the innocence of my heart I fondly ima- 

 gined that these teeth were trophies of their skill as 

 hunters, but on inquiry learned two things ; that 

 B.P.O.E. denoted Benevolent Protective (save the 

 mark !) Order of Elks, not Best People On Earth ; and 

 that very high prices were paid for these teeth, so 

 much as $300 (60) being sometimes given for a 

 perfect pair, whilst $75 (15) was a matter of every- 

 day occurrence. (The teeth used are the two in the 

 top jaw, and are identical with those found in the red 

 deer save in size.) Now the B.P.O.E. may be, and 

 doubtless in many ways is, an excellent institution, 

 but the fact remains that by adopting the wapiti's 

 tooth as their badge they have put a premium on 

 poaching, and hastened in no small degree the down- 

 fall of a very fine animal. The harm is done now 

 and cannot be rectified, but it is this which has con- 

 tributed more than anything else in the last five 

 years to the destruction of Cervus Canadensis. Every 

 hunting party one meets has tales of fine bulls found 

 dead, torn and picked by beasts of prey it may be, 

 but with nothing removed from the carcase by human 

 agency save those two little bits of ivory for which 



