46 CANADIAN NIGHTS 



white, bewildering mass of snow. Towards noon 

 it lightened up a little, and great grey shapes of 

 mountains loomed out now and then a shade darker 

 than the white wall that almost hid them ; but the 

 weather was not fit for hunting, and, as there was 

 nothing else to be done out of doors, we made a 

 fete of it, as a French-Canadian would say, and de- 

 voted ourselves to gun-cleaning and spinning yarns. 

 When deep snow lies upon the higher grounds 

 surrounding Estes Park, wapiti come down into 

 the Park in considerable numbers. The wapiti is a 

 splendid beast, the handsomest by far of all the deer 

 tribe. He is called an elk in the States — why, I do 

 not know ; for the European elk is identical with 

 the American moose, and a moose and a wapiti are 

 not the least alike. But I presume the wapiti is 

 called by the Americans an elk for the same reason 

 that they call thrushes robins, and grouse partridges. 

 The reason, I dare say, is a good one, but I do not 

 know what it is. The wapiti enjoys a range ex- 

 tending from the Pacific seaboard to the Missis- 

 sippi, and from the north-west territory in British 

 possessions down to Texas, and he formerly was 

 found all the way across the continent and in the 

 Eastern States. He is exactly like the European 

 red deer — only about twice as large — carries mag- 



