The Wilderness Hunter. 



toe, listening to the roaring music. The sound came from 

 a steep, narrow ravine, to one side of the trail, and I walked 

 toward it with my rifle at the ready. A slight puff gave 

 the elk my wind, and he dashed out of the ravine like a 

 deer; but he was only thirty yards off, and my bullet 

 went into his shoulder as he passed behind a clump of 

 young spruce. I plunged into the ravine, scrambled out 

 of it, and raced after him. In a minute I saw him stand- 

 ing with drooping head, and two more shots finished him. 

 He also bore fine antlers. It was a great piece of luck to 

 get three such fine bulls at the cost of half a day's light 

 work ; but we had fairly earned them, having worked hard 

 for ten days, through rain, cold, hunger, and fatigue, to no 

 purpose. That evening my home-coming to camp, with 

 three elk-tongues and a brace of ruffed grouse hung at my 

 belt, was most happy. 



Next day it snowed, but we brought a pack-pony to 

 where the three great bulls lay, and took their heads to 

 camp ; the flesh was far too strong to be worth taking, 

 for it was just the height of the rut. 



This was the end of my hunt ; and a day later Hofer 

 and I, with two pack-ponies, made a rapid push for the 

 Upper Geyser Basin. We travelled fast. The first day 

 was gray and overcast, a cold wind blowing strong in our 

 faces. Toward evening we came on a bull elk in a willow 

 thicket ; he was on his knees in a hollow, thrashing and 

 beating the willows with his antlers. At dusk we halted 

 and went into camp, by some small pools on the summit 

 of the pass north of Red Mountain. The elk were calling 

 all around us. We pitched our cozy tent, dragged great 



