220 THE WILDERNESS HUNTER. 



dred yards apart, on a broad game-trail, which 

 was as well beaten as a good bridle path. 

 We began to skin out the heads ; and as we 

 were finishing we heard another bull challeng- 

 ing far up the mountain. He came nearer 

 and nearer, and as soon as we had ended our 

 work we grasped our rifles and trotted toward 

 him along the game-trail. He was very noisy, 

 uttering his loud, singing challenge every 

 minute or two. The trail was so broad and 

 firm that we walked in perfect silence. After 

 going only five or six hundred yards, we got 

 very close indeed, and stole forward on tip- 

 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 standing 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 



