852 
FOREST AND STREAM 
HUNTING THE B IG HORN. 
T HE subjoined Bketch, wlii’ob is fresh from the pen 
of an experienced "Black Hills hunter, vividly delin¬ 
eates the almost inaccessible character of the country 
where the mountain sheep resort, and the difficulties and 
hardship of their pursuit. It is the first account we have 
ever read from such a source ; that is, coming from one 
who has “ been thar,” and writes his experiences in the 
mountain vernaoular. The writer is “Texas Jack.” 
Some distance further back in the mountains we struck 
a rough region and came to a high peak called Old Baldy. 
I hiid’never seen Baldy before, and 1 never want to see 
him again. Wo camped near the foot of the hill, and I 
proposed to climb on top and see what it looked like. 
Hone of the party seemed disposed to tackle him, so I 
shouldered Kato (a favorite rifle) early next morning 
and started up alone. It was a long, hard climb, and 
when I got on top I found out what it looked like—a dead 
;jump-off of some fifteen huud red feet! that’s just what 
it was on tho other side, As it wouldn’t be healthy to go 
further in that direction I concluded to lay there and 
gaze on the valley and scenes below (a long way below, 
I found out afterwards). It wasn’t such a bad lay-out 
after all, provided a fellow was fond of looking over a 
heap of country at one time. Eventually I discovered a 
small band of sheep grazing by a little lake in the valley. 
They seemed almost straight down from where I lay, but 
how to get at them was something else. I meant to try 
it on anyway, so crawled along the edge of the precipice 
lor a lung warn going down many rough, steep places, 
until T came t.6 the lowest gap there was, and it looked 
mighty scaly, some eighteen or twentyfeet nearly straight 
down'; but tliero was snow to light on. I could get down, 
perhaps, but not up there again that I knew of. It was 
a go, any way, so I reached Kate orb clear of the rocks 
and tel her drop. She struck, but foremost, turned over 
and started down the snowbauk; at first slow, but she 
soon went out of sight some two hundred yards away, 
going at the rate Of about a mile a minute. Hext I came, 
but not to go coasting noth Kate, for I struck square on 
my boot U«els and stuck fast. It was kind of an edging 
job from there down. The snow was a little harder than 
j; had oounted on, and I had to stamp several times before 
I could get hold enough to risk taking up the other foot. 
It was no nice place to play sliding down the hill, all by 
mvself, especially when I didn’t know exactly about 
where I was agoing to haul up. At last I came on to 
Kate, She was lodged up against some loose rock at the 
end of the snowbank, and no bones broke. I now hurried 
on, sure of a sheep, but I felt sheepish enough when I 
found they were at least a mile further than I. had cal¬ 
culated, and before I reached tire place they had moved 
camp and were asleep perhaps somewhere up in the 
The next thing was to get bade to where I bad started 
from. I thought it all over, and decided to try it round 
the other side of old Baldy, thinking it would be a better 
chance to scale the ridge: but how much I was mis¬ 
taken—I can’t tell you how much, just here, but it was 
the roughest place on earth, except one, and I don’t 
think anybody has ever found that one. It looked easy 
enough when 1 started in, hut before I got out—wait till 
I tell you. The farther I went along the mountain-side 
the worse it got, and more of it, nntil I came to a point 
where I could see neither bottom nor top ! I was just 
sticking up among the stones like something that had 
growed there ! I had but one chance to go ahead, and 
that was to jump down off the rock, some ten feet. If I 
did that I should have no chance at all to go back. It is 
strange how a fellow will press forward when he gets 
into trouble, though he may know it will take him deeper 
and deeper into it. I dropped Kate first; then 6wung 
myself down, I had but'a few feet to drop, but that 
rolling busi ness was what worried me the most, I struck 
all right. There was some earth and small timber ahead, 
and I was hurrying along as fast as possible, when all of 
a sudden the rocks commenced rolling down all around 
me. Looking up, I caught, sight cr an old ewe’s head 
and neck Stuck out over the rock some two hundred feet 
above me. Up went Kate a.nd down came the ewe clear 
over my head, and lodged against some fir bushes quite 
a distance below. I crawled down and took off a quarter. 
I was pretty tired, but had rather pack meat than go lnm- 
f ry. I had already made some calculations on doing like a 
og on a deer hunt—eat and drink nothing, and lay out 
that night. After a good deal of hard climbing, nearly 
straight up, I reached the top of the ridge, or backbone, 
as we call it. One step would [put me on the descent 
either way. I sat Kate down, straddled the rock, and 
dropped into meditation for a moment. It was a strange 
scene ; the sun had long since gone behind the mountain, 
and that peculiar yellowish green light (such, I;believe, 
can be seen in no other part of the world,) shone over the 
sky; that is, what I could see of it for the high peaks 
around. Not a sound to be heard, save the faint roar of 
the. torrents far down in the deep dark hollows below I I 
looked to Kate, my only companion. Thinks I, “ old 
girl, this ain't no good place to be in ; if I drop to sleep 
and tumble off this rock I shan’t wake up much before 
Gabriel toots his horn,” These thoughts put me astir ! I 
hastily gathered up my little outfit and struck down the 
mountain; I was in for it now. The further down I 
went the rougher it got, more the ledges, and the greater 
distance I had to drop from one to the other. I got 
kind of desperate, and hardly stopped to look for a better 
place—just peep over, drop Kate, (always blit foremost) 
then the sheep, and I would follow. Darkness was gath¬ 
ering fast, the weather was turning cold ; I was nearing 
the valley and hope began to brighten a little, when I 
came to a dead sticker. It was the last ledge ! All be¬ 
low was loose stone that slanted away to the canon be¬ 
low. I looked over—no use talking—over fifty feet in 
the clear ; no pair of legs in America could jump clown 
there and ever come out with a whole hone in them. T 
scrambled along the ledge some distance one way ; it got 
worse 1 Tried it the other, and found but one chance, 
and that a mighty slim one. It was where the water had 
cut a narrow crevice through the main ledge. If I could 
onlv hold on, it would take me within a reasonable distance 
of the loose stones below. It beat no chance at all; so 
over went Kate, meat next, and I commenced my descent 
bear fashion, (tail foremost, of course, the same as I do 
everything) holding on in any way, or to anything that 
was fast, as long as tliero was anything, and then I went 
about half as far as I expected and hit twico as hard as I 
ought to. The loose stones began to slide, and away went 
me, Kate, sheep, stones, and all, some twenty yards down 
tho hill, It was quite dark now, hut I managed, by feel¬ 
ing around, to find Kate and the sheep, and rustled off 
up the hollow, through the darkness and over the rooks, 
with a few tumbles and skinned shins. 
I reached camp, that is, where camp ought to be ; but 
it wasn’t there. Although it was very dark, I knew I was 
within a few steps of the right place, and there I stood, 
dumfounded for a moment, thinking to myself, if this is 
not me, who in thunder can it he ? I knew J was not lost: 
the camp must be lost. Presently I saw a little spark, 
and crawling under some logs came on to a heap of 
smouldering embers, the only sign of human existence. 
1 gave the coals a kick, and a dim light glared around 
that made the old white logs loom up like so many ghosts. 
Whilst gathering some brush forty different imaginations 
rattled through my brain. Indians? I thought, first; 
Bomebody shot accidently, or fell off the rocks and broke 
a leg; horses stampeded*; everything; until I got a big 
light, when all was explained. Right, over the fire hung 
a big flask half full of the best 1 — with a note attached 
saying, 11 Come into the river, party started at 3 P- m. ” 
Old Whity, my pony that was tied to’a tree near by and 
had been quiet all this time, now began to snort and tear 
around as much as to say, “ get that saddle and outfit on 
here, and let’s be off,” and you bet I did, and was off in a 
hurry, and did’t forget the flask either. Whity took a 
near" cut, and Kate took her chances along with me, 
through the thick timbers, up and down the steep rocks. 
Which ever way we went I don’t know, (as I was very 
busy settling up with the flask,) hut I do know that I was 
the first in to Barrier's Ranebe on the Yellow Stone 
River, some eighteen miles from where we ha.d been 
camped, 
Spoet about Newark. — Newark, N, J., has so many 
sportsmen, young* and old, that the editors of the weekly 
paper there always devote a certain amount of their space 
to shooting and fishing notes. The Call thus sums up the 
facilities for sport in the vicinity : — 
“ In the spring all the meadows lying on either side of 
the Passaic River in Essex and Morris Counties are tavor- 
ite feeding-ground for snipe and many varieties of wild 
ducks, and have been well known and patronized by 
Newark gunners ever since the time when Frank Forester 
lived at The Ceders and frequently drove to Pine Brook 
for a day’s shooting. And hi July the thickets in the 
same vicinity are well beaten for woodcock ; but as these 
birds are found in almost every swamp at that Beason of 
the year, it would be useless* to particularize any one 
locality. The Passaic below Chatham and all its tributary 
streams furnish good woodcock shooting occasionally, 
