312 



BIG GAME OF WORTH AMERICA. 



But the fun was not yet over, for the calf was strong, 

 and threw Frederick to the ground. He, however, held 

 pluckily on, and the two came rolling down the steep hill 

 together, when I luckily stopped them before they got 

 fairly under way, otherwise this would have been Freder- 

 ick's last hunt on this side of the dark river. We carried 

 the four calves to the station, where they were tenderly 

 cared for, Sergeants Long and Frederick being the self- 

 elected nurses. The calves were fed on condensed milk, 

 oatmeal, soaked -crackers, etc., and seemed to thrive very 

 well at first; but as no vessel came in 1882, when the 

 cold winter months set in they died, one after the other. 

 The first one to die was Frederick's pet, which he had 

 named "John Henry," although it was a female. One of 

 our brute dogs had chased and bitten it, injuring its shoul- 

 der, which caused it to die shortly after. The other calves 

 seemed to pine away after that, and on October 7th the 

 last one died, and our hope of enriching the menagerie of 

 the Smithsonian Institution with a live Musk-ox died 

 with it. 



