306 MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



ticular shot, have penetrated, and so I should have 

 lost the bull had an expanding, instead of a solid, 

 bullet been used on that occasion. 



The head was a twelve-pointer, measuring 61 inches 

 along curve of horn, and with a beam or circumference 

 of 8 inches between bay and tray. 



This trophy remains to remind me of those strenuous 

 cow-punching weeks I formerly spent under canvas 

 on the Pick range, and of the wild night we once 

 passed in the saddle trying to stop a stampeding herd. 

 It also remains to recall the tragedy on Sand Creek, 

 which formed the prelude to the beef round-up. 



An insignificant -looking gravestone in Rawlins 

 Cemetery also remains to mark the last resting-place 

 of Chico, our foreman, who ' died for the Pick.' 



Frank Earnest, our manager, has long since joined 

 the majority. The cattle-ranch we were all interested 

 in is now broken up and has passed into other hands, 

 while the days of the big open-range, company-owned 

 herds of Wyoming and Montana have become ancient 

 history. 



The old order changeth, and I am not altogether 

 in love with the change. The riverside meadows and 

 creek bottoms of Carbon County have been enclosed 

 with wire-fencing. Herds of domestic sheep now graze 

 in thousands on range pasture that formerly supported 

 countless numbers of wapiti, deer, antelope, and buffalo. 

 A whilom hunter's paradise has ceased to exist. The 

 last time I rode out to Sand Creek, in 1898, I met a 

 bicycle-rider on the way, and saw no game larger than 

 a prairie-dog. 



There was, however, from the sportsman's view, one 

 bright, redeeming feature. Rainbow-trout have been 

 introduced into the North Platte River, formerly 



