THE BIG BULL ELK OP^ COLORADO 367 



were oft' at a trot, heading straight for camp. Away went 

 my companion at hot speed to head them off, casting his 

 empty Winchester on the ground, and leaving the elk to 

 me and to fate. By this time, what with the rarity of the 

 air and the cumbersomeness of the garments with which, 

 on a showery day in the Rockies, it is necessary to clothe 

 oneself (adding, if you like, some deficiency of condition 

 and the weight of a heavy rifle), I found myself at the foot 

 of the hill, within twenty yards of my game, so blown that 

 I knew I could barely run up and finish him. Accordingly, 

 turning my steps, I rounded the little eminence, planted 

 myself in the open, and held the elk secure until the Judge 

 should return, or failing that, till I could at least get in 

 upon the crippled beast with a fair chance of holding the 

 ritie straight. In less time than I could have expected my 

 partner returned, equally breathless, with two empty 

 saddles and one empty weapon. " You ain't let him go 

 again, captain?" he panted forth. "Not a bit of it," I 

 responded, with perhaps premature gladness. " He's in 

 there, dead as a door-nail, I'll warrant, but I was too 

 blown to go in till you came. Stay here and watch, lest I 

 have made any mistake." But I had not, though for 

 assurance' sake I circled the hilltop, and astonished Fan 

 greatly by taking no notice whatever of a large brood of 

 grouse that rose around us. 



Back I worked till I reached the spot where the big 

 bull and I had, as it were, parted company. There he 

 lay, with his great head down-hill and his broad antlers 

 supporting him between two young fir-trees. I doubt if 

 those wild woods had ever re-echoed before to " Who- 

 whoop " and " Tallyho " ; but I am not ashamed to confess 

 that I screamed myself hoarse, and that I will live on that 

 double chase for many a day to come. 



I should explain that, though all turned out well and 

 exceptionally fortunately in the end, an unfortunate 

 mistake, or rather misconstruction, of prompting had 

 well-nigh robbed me of the coveted antlers, and endowed 

 me with a regrettable memory that years would have 

 failed to remove. It seems that the Judge, observing my 

 ritie at shoulder (as I sat with elbows on knees), imagined 



