A MYSTERY OF THE TETONS. 



Ed. H. Trafton. 



TEN or twelve years ago the 

 Teton Basin and Jackson's 

 Hole afforded the best big 

 game range in the Rocky Mountains, 

 and, for that matter, still do. Moose, 

 elk, mountain sheep and deer were 

 there in thousands, while silver tip, 

 cinnamon, brown and black bears 

 were plentiful, as well as small fur 

 animals. 



In the Fall of '83 an incident hap- 

 pened to me, up there, that I want to 

 tell the boys about. I was trapping 

 beaver on the Little Cottonwood, 

 south of Jackson's Lake. I also had 

 a line of fox traps set, extending 

 from camp to the foot of the lake, 

 some ten or twelve miles. One day 

 after making the rounds of my traps, 

 I came back and found Teton Jack- 

 son in camp, making himself right at 

 home, cooking his supper on my fire 



and apparently enjoying himself in 



great shape. 



" Hello, Ed !" he sang out, as I 

 rode up to the camp fire; " 1 thought 

 this was your camp when I struck 

 here by the way them beaver was 

 stretched." 



Jack was considered " hard game," 

 in those days, and likely to be follow- 

 ed into camp, anytime, by a vigilance 

 committee or by some outfit that he 

 had "pinched" (stolen horses from); 

 but as I was camped all alone I was 

 glad to have company for a few days, 

 even if I had to fight for it. Jack 

 was good company in camp, il he was 

 bad; so we proposed next day to go 

 up my line of traps, kill some elk, 

 a lot of tallow, bring in the hides and 

 make us a good elk-hide rope. 



We saw r several large bands of elk 

 on our way up the line, all the way 



-"AND STARTED TO CUT HIS THROAT.' 



