AN ELK-HUN7 AT TWO-OCEAN PASS. 213 



at a distance, the general look of an oak 

 rather than a pine. We at once walked 

 toward the ridge, up-wind. In a minute or 

 two, to our chagrin, we stumbled on an out- 

 lying spike bull, evidently kept on the out- 

 skirts of the herd by the master bull. I 

 thought he would alarm all the rest ; but, as 

 we stood motionless, he could not see clearly 

 what we were. He stood, ran, stood again, 

 gazed at us, and trotted slowly off. We hur- 

 ried forward as fast as we dared, and with too 

 little care ; for we suddenly came in view of 

 two cows. As they raised their heads to 

 look, Woody squatted down where he was, to 

 keep their attention fixed, while I cautiously 

 tried to slip off to one side unobserved. Fa- 

 vored by the neutral tint of my buckskin hunt- 

 ing-shirt, with which my shoes, leggins, and 

 soft hat matched, I succeeded. As soon as I 

 was out of sight I ran hard and came up to a 

 hillock crested with pinyons, behind which I 

 judged I should find the herd. As I ap- 

 proached the crest, their strong, sweet smell 

 smote my nostrils. In another moment I saw 

 the tips of a pair of mighty antlers, and I 

 peered over the crest with my rifle at the 

 ready. Thirty yards off, behind a clump of 

 pinyons, stood a huge bull, his head thrown 

 back as he rubbed his shoulders with his 

 horns. There were several cows around him, 

 and one saw me immediately, and took alarm. 

 I fired into the bull's shoulder, inflicting a 

 mortal wound ; but he went off, and I raced 

 after him at top speed, firing twice into his 

 flank ; then he stopped, very sick, and I broke 

 his neck with a fourth bullet. An elk often 



