200 



RECREATION. 



tain, I always think what a grand prairie 

 it would make if it were taken away, alto- 

 gether. 



However, mountains are charmingly in- 

 constant in color, which they cannot help, 

 for the prairie sun shines on them; so they 

 may prove interesting. I shall reserve 

 judgment. This is my first introduction, 

 and it may be that, like ancestral Lim- 

 burger, one may learn to like mountains by 

 perseverance. 



The other passengers uttered a lot of 

 expressions that were quite new to me; 

 such as, 



" Look at those mountains; aren't they 

 grand? " 



" Oh, how I do love mountains," etc., 

 etc. 



Of course, I made a sketch. That's what 

 I came for. 



In the Park we saw the marara but 



no! I won't. I didn't want to see the . 



Honest I didn't. But we " was druv," and 

 forced to it. The only satisfaction I got 

 was by pretending to know more about 

 them than the guide did. And before long, 

 the drove, then the guide, and finally I, my- 

 self, began to believe it was really so. 



We promptly made the acquaintance of 

 Captain Anderson, the monarch regent of 

 the National park, and of General Young, 

 the heir apparent. Captain Anderson has 

 made a successful and accessible preserve 

 of this place; and while he is personally 

 one of the most popular men ever branded 

 U. S. he seems to love the hate of bad 

 men; and there is no lack of free and in- 

 dependent citizens hungering for his scalp. 

 Men who know what he has done for the 

 Park will be delighted to learn that at Gar- 

 diner, the other day, a lawless tough was 

 overheard telling another, 



" Damned if I don't believe Young is 

 going to turn out meaner and cusseder, 

 even, than Anderson." 



As we hadn't come on a poaching expe- 

 dition, and as moreover we were backed 

 by Recreation, we found the military des- 

 potism of the Park the reverse of irksome. 

 It was the dread despot himself who 

 showed us around, and helped us to the 

 best guide, and the inside track, whenever 

 there was one; who assisted in getting to- 

 gether an outfit; who gave us letters of 

 safe conduct (so to speak) ; who uncorked 

 his finest O. K. W. ; who admonished "all 

 whom it might concern " that we were 

 backed; who convoyed us to our first 

 camp, and who looked us up, periodically, 

 to see that we lacked nothing. We found 

 it difficult to reconcile our experience with 

 the current account of the inhuman mon- 

 ster who reigned over the Park. 



This is Elkland. Way back in the for- 

 ties, according to Dodge, and other au- 

 thorities, it was common to see bands of 

 10,000 to 15,000 elk, on the Yellowstone. 

 To-day they say bands of 2,000 to 3,000 are 



not rare, in the autumn. Wherever one 

 goes, one finds elk horns. They litter the 

 hills, and obstruct the little streams. One 

 is never out of sight of at least 2 or 3. The 

 other day I counted 8, within 100 yards. 

 The photographer at the Springs has made 

 a garden fence of some 120 shed antlers, 

 picked up in the neighborhood, and the 

 whole country, high and low, is pebbled 

 over with elk signs. We are living on Elk 

 creek. Yet we have not seen a single elk. 



The reason is said to be that they are all 

 up in the mountains, at their summer re- 

 sorts, in 3 social grades. Lowest, in the 

 wooded pasture lands, are the does, with 

 the fawns. Next grade, higher up, are the 

 yearlings; and away uo near the snow line 

 are the bucks, devoting their every mo- 

 ment and energy to growing their immense 

 antlers and getting fat for the social life 

 and lively doings of the fall — and for the 

 annual winter famine. 



From time to time, on our travels, we 

 come to a scene like this; and when we re- 

 member there were 6 feet of snow last win- 

 ter, and that the saplings in the valleys 

 have the bark gnawed off, for many feet 

 up, it is not necessary to call in the aid of a 

 poacher to account for the downfall of the 

 antler-bearer. 



When I say we have not seen an elk, 

 that means we did not during the first 

 week. We saw plenty of antelope; and one 

 evening a pair of blacktail deer strolled up 

 to our cabin door, and blew their noses at 

 us. Nearly everyone we questioned replied, 



"Why, yes; I saw 60 or 70 elk a mile 

 from here." Or 



"' Yes, I saw about 100, back of the 

 ridge," etc. 



At length we girded our loins and our 

 horses, and said 



" Here goes for Elkland. This cabin 

 isn't much more than a mile higher than 



AMATEUR PHOTO BY MRS. E. S. THOMPSON. 



FALLEN. 



