FOREST AND STREAM 
671 
is full of cattle, and we passed several large flocks of sheep 
and goats in charge of mounted shepherds, each of whom 
was attended hy a dog, of mongrel breed it is true and 
showing none of the points either of the Scotch or Mexi¬ 
can sheep dog, but still, as could be seen from their actions, 
very serviceable assistants in caring for the herds. 
For twenty miles up the Big Laramie that stream is 
fenced so that only at a few points can animals get down 
to the river to.drink. These fences are built by the ranch¬ 
men to keep the cattle off their hay bottoms. Strangely 
enough, the cattle prefer the coarse but juicy bottom grass 
to the finer and much more nutritious buffalo and bunch 
grass which grows on the uplands among the sage brush, 
and but for the protecting fences would spend a consider¬ 
able part of their time in the bottom, thus making it im¬ 
possible for the stockmen to get any hay. For, as some 
of your readers may not know, it is only in the creek 
bottoms, where there is constant moisture, that grass 
grows in sufficient quantity to make it worth while to 
cut it. On the upland the ground is for the most part 
bare, though the sage brush gives it, from a distance, the 
appearance of being covered with vegetation, and the 
grass is scattered about, a bunch here, another there. A 
sod is unknown on the upland. 
Ten or twelve miles from Laramie I noticed in the road, 
which at this point ran for some little distance dose to 
one of these fences, the tracks of several antelopes, and a 
mile or two further on we saw the animals themselves. 
They were evidently trying to get down to the water, and 
were following the fence along, searching for an opening 
through which they might pass. So intent were they 
upon this that we rode up to within six or eight hundred 
yards of them before they saw us, and we might have 
approached still nearer to them had it not been for the 
wretched dog owned by our teamster, which as soon as it 
caught sight of the game started in hot pursuit. Of course 
he could not catch the antelope any more than a tortoise 
could catch a streak of lighting, but this “ Shep” did not 
know, and was never able to learn. The antelope did not 
pay much attention to hint until he got to within about a 
hundred yards of them,and even then they merely cantered 
off slowly. When.however, he still gained rapidly on them 
and was soon only fifty yards behind the herd, they seemed 
to realize that he was chasing them, A little cloud of dust 
obscured the clump of fleeing beasts for a moment and 
then they emerged from it running, literally, like the 
wind. The dog seemed to l)e standing still, and, in less 
time than it takes to write it, the antelope were out of 
sight. A little while after this “ Shep ” tried the experi¬ 
ment of chasing a Jack rabbit, and proved himself about 
as good on this game as on antelope, He could go 
faster than the rabbit as long as it ran straight, but at the 
first double it would gain ten or fifteen yards, and before 
the dog could make that up, his wind would give out, 
and after a few despairing yelps, which he gave vent to 
with a fury that led me to believe that they were repre¬ 
sentative of the most emphatic execrations, he would 
give up the chase. 
The ride over the open prairie" was most delightful. It 
was a pleasure and an excitement to breathe the light 
exhilarating air of the mountains. The scent of the sage 
brush, bringing to mind a thousand similar rides through 
this and other regions, called up a host of pleasant memo¬ 
ries and of diindly thoughts for the friends with whom I 
had campaigned in former years. I recognised with a 
satisfaction, which seems, even, to myself, almost absurd, 
all the different flowers on the prairie, and of each well 
known bird or animal that appears I have some story to 
tell. The shore larks flutter along the road with their 
soft melancholy twitter just as they do almost everywhere 
in the west. Maecown’s bunting easily recognisable to 
the li nit of gunshot, brings back to my mind Central 
Dakota where they breed so abundantly, and at the sight 
of the mountain plover my thoughts turn to Hopley’s Hole 
in the Judith Basin, where first I saw this graceful species. 
The sun was setting when we reached Leroy’s, and by 
the time our tents were up and the animals fed it was 
quite dark. An early start was made next morning, as 
the march which we proposed to make was over thirty 
miles,. I lingered behind to examine some fossils which 
had been found in the Muffs near the river and which 
were supposed to be of peculiar interest. The specimens 
proved to be the bones of the great Dinosaurian reptiles, 
which lived in such great numbers in this region during 
the Jurassic age. They were in good preservation, but 
did not appear to differ materially from specimens al¬ 
ready in some of our eastern museums. I caught up with 
the team and the other riders just as they were leaving 
the river. At this point Messrs. Batch and Bacon are 
erecting the most pretentious house, I venture to say, to 
be found in the territory, outside of the large towns. It 
is to be finished inside with lath and plaster and has two 
bow windows ! 
Soon after leaving the riverthe road commences to as¬ 
cend, and the dark mountains which have hitherto seemed 
vague and indistinct in outline, begin to appear more 
clearly out. Directly in front of ns, although the road 
passes to the right of it, appears Steamboat Mountain, one 
of the most striking objects seen on the trip. Standing 
almost alone and separated from the undulating prairie 
merely by a single bench, a few hundred feet in height, 
which is covered by the greenish gray of the almost uni¬ 
versal sage brush, it rises square and bluff to a height of 
two or three thousand feet above the plain, and presents 
on its northeastern aspect an almost vertical precipice, 
the lower half of which is wholly bare of vegetation. The 
deep red Triassio rocks, so characteristic of this region 
of the mountains, are here exposed in a superb section to 
a great height, and the different strata, inclined ata slight 
angle toward the north, are clearly defined. Above the 
red beds is a smaller thickness of light colored rock, and 
above this stupendous precipice the mountain, bright with 
the pale green foliage of the quaking aspen, slopes gradu¬ 
ally back to its summit. Here and there the verdant cover¬ 
ing is interrupted by patches of silvery gray, showing 
where, in past years, the fires, kindled,by Indians or by the 
careless hunter or prospector, have swept over the moun¬ 
tain, destroying the splendid forests by which it was once 
covered and leaving only the mouldering and weather- 
whitened trunks of the pines and spruces to bear witness 
to man’s improvidence. 
As we approached onr third and last crossing of the Big 
Laramie the country becomes more rough and broken, 
and the team travels so slowly that we on horseback find 
ourselves several miles in advance of it. Occasionally we 
see a few antelope on the distant hillsides, but they are 
very wild and take to flight as soon as they see us. We 
see as we ride along many typical western birds which 
are new to all but me, andlpoint out the Ferruginous and 
Swainson's buzzards, the Lanner falcon, magpie, Say’s 
flycatcher, Brewer’s blackbird, the greentailed ftnoh, 
western white crowned sparrow, and a number of others 
to my interested companions. Here, too, we see our first 
sage grouse, and from the sloughs iu the river bottom 
start a number of mallard ducks and a brace or two of 
toal. 
Having crossed the river and ascended one long hill we 
find ourselves in the mountains at last. I have longed for 
them for a year, and now I am among them once more. 
I see with some anxiety, however, that there is a great 
deal of travel over the road which we are following, and 
I fear that unlesB we can get far away from the freight 
road, I shall be disappointed with regard to game. The 
trial is a pleasant one to march over; there is so much 
variety about it. It is hilly, as might he expected, and 
on either hand the mountains, usually timber covered, 
rise above us. At short intervals we plunge into the 
sombre Bilent pine forests, soon to emerge again and pass 
through beautiful little parks, each watered by a crystal 
streamlet. While passing through the pine timber I no¬ 
ticed the three-toed woodpecker, the common cross-bill, 
and the Western Canada jay, the bird fauna thus indica¬ 
ting that we had attained a considerable altitude. 
Toward evening we reached Beaver Creek, a tributary 
of the Laramie, and after following it up for a few miles 
camped for the night. We had no fresh meat in camp, 
and the task of procuring it seemed to fall upon me as 
the senior of the party. Accordingly, about an hour be¬ 
fore sunset I shouldered my rifle and started out alone on 
foot to try to kill a deer, while A. and F. proposed also to 
go out with the same object in view. The valley through 
which the Beaver flows is a narrow one, and the hills rise 
on either side in a series of steep benches to a height of 
several hundred feet, their summits being clothed wit!» 
green pine timber. This timber is delightful to hunt 
through. At the point where I Btruc-k into the forest 
there was neither undergrowth nor fallen trees; the 
ground was covered with the needles of the pines on 
which the foot falls noiselessly ; little open parks occur 
at frequent intervals, and those which have streams flow¬ 
ing through them are favorite feeding places for deer. 
For some time I proceeded through the timber as care¬ 
fully as I could, keeping a good look out, not only for 
game but for “sign" as well. A good many old deer 
tracks were to be seen, but scarcely any fresh ones. This 
of course was to he expected, as the game would natu¬ 
rally be driven back from the road. It was nearly sunset 
when I turned to go back to camp, somewhat disheart¬ 
ened at having nothing to carry with me. I walked fast, 
as it was important, if I proposed to spend the night in 
camp, to reach it before dark. It is not always easy to 
find one’s way through thick pine timber in the day time, 
and I felt no ambition to try to do it after night had fal¬ 
len. I walked quickly, therefore, not trying to follow the 
track by whioh I had come, but taking the shortest way, 
As I approached a little park, in the centre of which was 
a pool surrounded by willows, I distinctly heard a deer 
jump, and,running forward, caught a glimpse, through the 
branches of the trees, of a doe r unn i n g across the park. 
I had no chance to shoot at first, hut when I got to the 
edge of the timber I saw the doe on the other side of the 
opening trotting along among the tree trunks. As a run¬ 
ning shot is always an uncertain one, I determined to try 
to stop her and so imitated the cry of a fawn. To my 
surprise, instead of stopping the doe whirled around and 
started back toward me, while a young fawn, which had 
been following her and which I had not seen, came into 
view, and, confused by the retrograde movement of its 
mother, turned toward me and paused. To decide to kill, 
if possible, the fawn, required not a moment’s thought, 
for 1 knew that the does at this season are usually thin, 
haring been nursing their young all summer. As the 
fawn paused, therefore, I threw up my rifle, took a quick 
sight and fired. When the smoke cleared away there 
was no fawn in sight, Slipping another cartridge into 
my gun I started across the park, and before I had gone 
ten steps my eye caught a movement among the trees 
and I soon made out my game struggling on tile ground. 
The ball had entered the left shoulder just at the right 
spot and had come out an inch or two in front of She 
right hara, and the animal had run fifty yards or so ha- 
fore falling. Altogether, the shot was a very satisfac¬ 
tory one, because it was a very quick one and made in an 
uncertain fight. It took me about three minutes to cut 
up the fawn, and then throwing the hams and saddle 
over my shoulder I strode ou toward camp, The sun 
was just setting, and the sky, when I could see it through 
the trees, was becoming somewhat overcast, so that I 
began to think that I should certainly have to sleep out 
on the mountain side. I counted my matches and found 
that I had only three, enough of course, unless the wind 
commenced to blow. I knew well enough the direction 
in which the camp lay, but felt pretty sure that I could 
not go straight to it. If the light did not fail me, how¬ 
ever, I should soon strike the valley, through which the 
road led, and in that case should l)e sure of sleeping 
under a blanket. These thoughts passed through my 
mind as I hurried on, and I soon saw through the trees 
an opening toward which I hastened, Just before I 
reached it I heard a movement in a quaking aspen ravine 
at my left, and turning, saw a fine mule deer climbing the 
hillside less than a hundred yards from me. To have 
killed him would have been an easy matter, for he 
stopped and looked at me for some moments; but if I had 
shot him I had no way of getting the meat to camp, nor 
had I time enough to gralloch him before dark, so I let 
the fine fellow go. 
A few moments’ brisk walking brought me to the open¬ 
ing, and I saw from the size of the brook that flowed 
through it that I must be near the Beaver. The event 
proved my supposition a correct one, and in about ten 
minutes I found myself on the road over which we had 
passed in the afternoon. As I turned toward camp I 
heard signal shots being fired, which were evidently in¬ 
tended foi 1 my ear, and after answering them once I 
trudged steadily along. It was now quite dark, but of 
course it was impossible to lose the road, and half an 
hour’s brisk walking brought me to camp, supper and 
bed. "So. 
Pinkham's Panchc, North Park, Col. 
— The famous thoroughbred mare Nina died in the 
thirty-second year of her age, at the farm of her owner. 
Major Thomas W. Doswell, in Hanover County, Her rep¬ 
utation as a racer and brood mare is co-extensive with the 
Union. She was the laBt survivor of the progeny of the 
celebrated racer Boston. 
THE CREEDMOOR FALL MEETING. 
The 7th annual Fall meeting of the National Rifle As¬ 
sociation held at the Creechnoor Range from Sept. 10 to 
20, inclusive, must be recorded as a- successful one. Tbe 
scores were fine in many respects. The fancy shooting, 
if one may speak of the long range small bore work by 
that name, did not show any very b r i lli a n t totals, but in 
the teamshooting andfat the off-hand work, where, after 
all,the bulk of range practice will always remain, and for 
work at which off the range the greater part of butt drill 
should directly tend, the records show a vast improve¬ 
ment. The meeting was fortunate in having fair weather, 
though of course them are those who attended the meet¬ 
ing and who found a baffling wind blowing over the lawn, 
who will declare that the weather could not have been 
worse, and will point to score-book for documentary proof. 
Yet the absence of raw winds, or of wet skies, made the 
camp week on the range a pleasant one; allows the tenters 
to think of the days spent under canvass as pleasant ones, 
and enabled OoL J. H, Cowperthwait, the executive of¬ 
ficer of the meeting, to carry out his schedule and squad¬ 
ding arrangements without break or variation. Finan¬ 
cially, too, the meeting was a measurable success. It 
might have shown a larger balance in favor of the Associ¬ 
ation, but considering the amount of effort put forth and 
the inducements held out to such as need those stimuli, 
the financial return is a very satisfactory one. From first 
to last, too, the meeting passed off without a serious pro¬ 
test, and the fact that not a single matter was presented 
for the consideration of the Executive Committee shows 
the freedom from wrangle which marked the many sharp 
contests. There were at times expressions of feeling from 
men who were certain that their “ nippers” were bulis- 
eyes rather than the centres they were marked, and the 
new rule of the N. R. A. , applied for the first time, that the 
marking from the first should in no wise he questioned, 
at times seemed to work hardship. This question drew 
out an’expression of opinion from a large number of the 
marksmen present which was put in the form of a paper 
to the Board of Directors. It is fair to assume that the 
markers are fallible, and the present rule either considers 
the butt-men incapable of committing an error or makes 
rifle practice a mere matter of chance. Frivolous protest 
from men who transfer their personal irritability and 
perhaps nervousness or biliousness, to mean carelessness 
on the part of the marker, is to be avoided, but it is fair 
tliatan important and palpable mistake outlie part of the 
marker should have an avenue for rectification. A sim¬ 
ple. way would be the introduction of a forfeit system. 
Let any one protesting the marking of bis last shot de¬ 
posit a sum, sav $3, as being neither excessive nor trivial, 
