1 84 The Wilderness Hunter. 



the cry of some huge beast of prey. At last we heard the 

 roar of the challenge not eighty yards off. Stealing for- 

 ward three or four yards, I saw the tips of the horns through 

 a mass of dead timber and young growth, and I slipped to 

 one side to get a clean shot. Seeing us, but not making 

 out what we were, and full of fierce and insolent excite- 

 ment, the wapiti bull stepped boldly toward us with a stately 

 swinging gait. Then he stood motionless, facing us, barely 

 fifty yards away, his handsome twelve-tined antlers tossed 

 aloft, as he held his head with the lordly grace of his kind. 

 I fired into his chest, and as he turned I raced forward and 

 shot him in the flank ; but the second bullet was not needed, 

 for the first wound was mortal, and he fell before going 

 fifty yards. 



The dead elk lay among the young evergreens. The 

 huge, shapely body was set on legs that were as strong 

 as steel rods, and yet slender, clean, and smooth ; they were 

 in color a beautiful dark brown, contrasting well with the 

 yellowish of the body. The neck and throat were garnished 

 with a mane of long hair ; the symmetry of the great horns 

 set off the fine, delicate lines of the noble head. He had 

 been wallowing, as elk are fond of doing, and the dried 

 mud clung in patches to his flank ; a stab in the haunch 

 showed that he had been overcome in battle by some 

 master bull who had turned him out of the herd. 



We cut off the head, and bore it down to the train. 

 The horses crowded together, snorting, with their ears 

 pricked forward, as they smelt the blood. We also took 

 the loins with us, as we were out of meat, though bull elk 

 in the rutting season is not very good. The rain had 



