American Big-Game Hunting 



Following it up some two miles, I suddenly 

 heard a bull elk call, and fastening my horse, 

 I crept toward the sound. Coming out of 

 some thick woods, I saw across the stream a 

 band of seven elk and three or four calves. 

 They were feeding away from me, and I de- 

 cided that if I crossed the stream and reached 

 the top of a little hill before they could walk 

 out of the woods and get into the middle of 

 an open park, some half-mile across, I might 

 be able to get a shot. The stream was quite 

 rapid and fairly deep, and while I did not 

 care for wet feet, I hoped to escape a wet 

 jacket. However, as I stepped boldly in, the 

 current whirled me off my feet, and the water 

 opened its gates and let me find a resting- 

 place on the slippery, smooth stones of its 

 bottom. 



On gaining the opposite bank, I broke into 

 a run for my game. I have always been a 

 fair sprinter, but before I had reached the 

 hill, fifty or sixty rods away, I was completely 

 pumped, and had to stop. Fortunately I was 

 running toward game, rather than being 

 chased by a grizzly, for I had shot my bolt. 

 The high altitude had put me out of the race. 



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