196 



RECREA TION. 



climbing the wall. Up he struggled out 

 of range, but not out of sight, to rest at the 

 summit, his graceful outlines standing in 

 bold relief against the crimsoned sky. It 

 was a beautiful picture, but a poor start 

 toward a wagon load of meat; and after a 

 shot at a skulking coyote I returned to 

 camp empty handed. Will told me he had 

 not seen game of any description, while 

 Henry had only the shattered horn of an 

 elk to show; but thereby hangs a tale. 



Henry was on his way back to camp 

 when he discovered a small herd of elk (30 

 he thought) on a jutting wall half way 

 down the side of a canyon. If they were 

 forced over it looked as if all must break 

 their necks, so he made a wide detour and 

 reached the pass through which they had 

 descended to the plateau. Carefully look- 

 ing over the lot, he selected a spike buck 

 and fired; the bull at which he aimed was 

 standing close to the edge, and went over 

 as if struck by lightning. 



Henry was surprised to see the re- 

 mainder turn, follow the lead and plunge 

 over the wall, in a similar manner. It 

 seemed like positive suicide and he has- 

 tened to the bottom expecting to find some 

 dead and others maimed; but the herd had 

 vanished as if the earth had swallowed 

 them, and so bewildered was Henry it is 

 doubtful if he would have believed he had 

 seen game at all had it not been for the 

 freshly loosened earth at the foot of the 

 wall, and the horn shot from the spike 

 elk, which he picked up later on the pla- 

 teau. 



The following morning Henry remained 

 in camp and Will and I started up the 

 creek hoping to sight Henry's elk. Keep- 

 ing along its bed we sighted 3 antelope 

 on a little plateau at the highest point on 

 the West side. Following a canyon, to a 

 point beneath the antelope we zig-zagged, 

 this way and that, to gain a foothold. After 

 10 minutes of hard work we found our- 

 selves, breathless, in a niche just below the 

 verge which gave us good footing. Here 

 we paused to regain our breath, to steady 

 ourselves and to prepare for action. Cau- 

 tiously we raised our heads above the level 

 of the plateau, with rifles at ready, but the 

 antelope had winded us and vanished. We 

 advanced across the level, keeping a careful 

 eye in all directions, but gave up the chase 

 on " striking a new lead." 



Far below, at nearly the same spot we 

 occupied when we first saw the antelope, 

 were 2 deer feeding. Marking the point 

 where we were to rise to the bank of the 

 creek and have the deer in easy range, be- 

 fore starting, we dropped back into the 

 canyon. Jumping from point to point, 

 where footholds could be gained, and slid- 

 ing long distances, ploughing the yielding 

 clay with our heels we finally reached the 

 bottom. 



Being effectually concealed from the 



game no caution was required; so we kept 

 down the canyon to the creek, following 

 the dry bed until we reached the tree we 

 had marked. In this manner we came 

 within 30 yards of the deer and they un- 

 conscious of our presence. We fired but 

 without effect, our bullets going wild, and 

 as the game seemed dazed and not inclined 

 to run, v/e started loading again. In the 

 excitement the extractor of my Spencer 

 failed to work properly and before I was 

 able to slip a cartridge home Will had 

 fired 3 or 4 more unsuccessful shots. By 

 this time the deer were moving slowly 

 away, partially hidden from view, down 

 just such a deep and narrow trail as the 

 editor of Recreation speaks of as " Game 

 trails " in his " Hunting in the Great 

 West." Only 6 inches or so of the back 

 of the hindmost deer showed above the 

 level, by the time I was ready for my sec- 

 ond shot, and taking careful aim I fired, 

 bringing him down. 



We dressed our trophy, and " laid it 

 away," in the shade of an overhanging 

 wall, while we went on to finish the wagon 

 load of venison we were expected to kill 

 that day. 



For hours we hunted through the can- 

 yons, and climbed almost inaccessible 

 walls without luck, but late in the after- 

 noon, while travelling an extra deep and 

 dark canyon, a fragment of earth came 

 plunging down the wall and landed at our 

 feet. We looked up and there, less than 15 

 yards above, stood a black tail deer. 



Together we drew our guns to our 

 shoulders, fired simultaneously and on 

 either side of our game 2 jets of dust in- 

 dicated where the bullets had struck. Then 

 a snort to the right of us, another to the 

 left and still another overhead revealed a 

 whole herd of black tails. We shot with a 

 rapidity we had never attempted before, 

 and when the last of the herd had vanished 

 and we realized what an utter failure our 

 attempt to bag the game had been we stood 

 silent and chagrined. But hope began 

 to revive when a young buck, far up 

 the opposite wall of the canyon, was sight- 

 ed. Evidently he had gone as far as he 

 could in that direction and there remained 

 for him no alternative but to face us, and 

 come back before he could escape. Quick- 

 ly hurrying to a small clay mound at the 

 bottom of the wall I rested my rifle on 

 it. The distance between us was fully 150 

 yards and taking careful aim I fired. A 

 quick snort, a flashing of steam from his 

 nostrils and the buck dashed down the side 

 of the wall. Gradually his speed slackened, 

 he staggered from side to side, and then, 

 over he toppled with a 'bullet through his 

 lungs. 



By this time it was well along in the 

 afternoon, and after dressing our buck we 

 started back toward the wall where our 

 first deer lay. On the way a bunch of an- 



