1 88 The Elk of the Pacific Coast 



when on native feed learn to stop sooner and go 

 much farther back into rougher ground to lie 

 down. The elk is naturally a day feeder, though, 

 like the cow and the horse, he can eat at night if 

 he chooses. It has not taken him long to learn 

 that it is far safer to breakfast before daylight 

 and get out of the way, to go without lunch and 

 dine very late, so as to remain during the day 

 stowed away in some wild place where no man is 

 likely to intrude. He used to love the open sand- 

 bar of a stream to lie on during the day in order 

 to escape flies or mosquitoes. He now finds it 

 safer to bear a few flies for the sake of keeping 

 out of sight. So he used to lie in the sun at 

 times, to harden his horns, as the old hunters 

 say. But now he is an ardent admirer of shade, 

 and cares little for sunshine except on cold days 

 or frosty mornings. And even then you had 

 better spend most of your time looking for him 

 in shade, that will hide his coat better than sun- 

 shine. But he has not yet learned the advantage 

 of silence, as has the quail of this coast in the 

 last few years, so that his shrill whistle of defiance 

 to some rival bull still pierces the depths of the 

 forest in rutting time, and gives even the tyro the 

 best of opportunities for his undoing. 



It seems an incongruity in nature that this 

 grand deer, which appeals so vividly to our im- 

 agination, and in everything imposing easily sur- 



