THE WAPITI. 185 



ten days before they begin to run ; and they 

 have in addition an odd kind of bark, which 

 is only heard occasionally. The whistling is 

 a most curious, and to me a most attractive 

 sound, when heard in the great lonely mount- 

 ains. As with so many other things, much 

 depends upon the surroundings. When lis- 

 tened to nearby and under unfavorable cir- 

 cumstances, the sound resembles a succession 

 of hoarse whistling roars, ending with two or 

 three gasping grunts. 



But heard at a little distance, and in its 

 proper place, the call of the wapiti is one of 

 the grandest and most beautiful sounds in 

 nature. Especially is this the case when 

 several rivals are answering one another, on 

 some frosty moonlight night in the mountains. 

 The wild melody rings from chasm to chasm 

 under the giant pines, sustained and modu- 

 lated, through bar after bar, filled with chal- 

 lenge and proud anger. It thrills the soul of 

 the listening hunter. 



Once, while in the mountains, I listened to 

 a peculiarly grand chorus of this kind. We 

 were travelling with pack ponies at the time, 

 and our tent was pitched in a grove of yellow 

 pine, by a brook in the bottom of a valley. 

 On either hand rose the mountains, covered 

 with spruce forest. It was in September, and 

 the first snow had just fallen. 



The day before we had walked long and 

 hard ; and during the night I slept the heavy 

 sleep of the weary. Early in the morning, 

 just as the east began to grow gray, I waked ; 

 and as I did so, the sounds that smote on my 

 ear, caused me to sit up and throw off the 



