A DEER HUNT IN LOST PARK. 



II . J. L. I1ARNES. 



In August, 1898, I left my home at Glen- 

 wood Springs, Colo., for a hunt on White 

 river, a fine trout stream, 40 miles North 

 of Glenwood. All I took with me was a 

 frying pan, 25 pounds of flour, a little salt, 

 pepper, coffee and sugar, my rifle and fish- 

 ing rod, and one blanket besides my saddle 

 blanket. 



The first night I reached Mud Springs, 

 and by noon next day was on White river. 

 The second night I spent at Marvine 

 rreek, where I caught a mess of trout for 

 supper and breakfast. The following night 

 I camped at the end of the wagon road on 

 the North Fork of White river, just at the 

 mouth of Lost creek. At 5 a. m. I was 3 

 miles farther up North Fork and began 

 fishing. By noon I had a creel full of 

 trout, among them one rainbow weighing 

 5% pounds. 



Next morning I took my rifle, a 25-20 

 Winchester, and set out for Lost Park. I 

 had not gone far before I came on a doe 

 and 2 fawns. I did not fire at them, be- 

 cause in Colorado it is against the law to 

 shoot anything without horns. A little 

 later I saw a bunch of 4 deer, 3 bucks 

 and a doe. When I opened fire I had 15 

 shots in mv Winchester ; after the deer 

 had skipped I could find only 6 cartridges 

 in the gun. The rest were not in the deer 

 either. 



Feeling pretty sore over such shooting, 

 I pushed ahead. As I rounded a bend I 

 saw 2 bucks in a clump of small trees. 

 They were fully 300 yards away, and I 

 raised the sight to the proper notch before 

 I fired. 



At the report the buck farthest from me 

 drooped ; the other remained motionless. 

 With careful aim I fired twice at the stand- 

 ing deer. Then I raised the sight for 400 

 yards and tried again, with no result. He 

 must be clean out of range. I thought, and 

 began creeping nearer. Not until I was 

 within 100 yards did I discover I had been 

 shooting at a rock. Where I had seen a 



buck fall I found tracks leading down the 

 other side of the ridge. There was no 

 blood, however, and I did not think it worth 

 wlrile to follow. 



Late in the day I ran on to a pair of elks, 

 but elks are protected here and I had to let 

 them go. Well, thought I, fishing is my 

 best chance ; I'll go back and fish. Just as 

 I crossed Lost creek a 6-point buck rose 

 from behind a log not 15 steps from me. 

 The Winchester cracked and the buck went 

 down, shot through the stomach. In 

 an instant he was on his feet again and off 

 down the creek. Two shots followed him, 

 but with no result. I put spurs to my 

 horse, and after a chase of 3 miles got an- 

 other shot as the buck was about to recross 

 the creek. That time he went down to stay. 

 I jumped from my horse, drew my knife, 

 and in a minute was at the side of a 280- 

 pound buck. He was still breathing, and 

 when the knife point touched his throat he 

 made one last effort to regain his feet, 

 knocking me backward into the creek. 



I had to dress him on the ground as he 

 was much too heavy for a boy of 15 to lift. 

 I got him dressed at last, and then came 

 the question of how to get my game to 

 camp. It occurred to me that I might float 

 him down the creek. I tied a rope around 

 the deer's neck and dragged it into the 

 creek. It was hard work dodging rocks 

 and stumps, but the worst of all was when 

 I came to a fall. It would never do to 

 let the deer go over it. I went back after 

 the horse, took him down and backed 

 him under the fall. Then I eased away 

 the rope that held the deer above until the 

 carcass came down on the horse, where I 

 managed to tie it. It was midnight before 

 I reached camp, tired, wet and hungry. 



I remained in Lost park 18 days, hunting 

 and fishing. In that time I shot 2 deer, 1 

 antelope, 1 wolf, 1 wildcat, 1 fox, 2 coyotes, 

 38 grouse and 19 rabbits. I also caught 

 81 trout, weighing over 60 pounds. The 

 trip, including ammunition and fishing 

 tackle, cost me only $5.90. 



General : "And did your men run 

 away? " 



"Sir! His Majesty's 2,781st Lowlanders 

 Never run away! We surrendered, sir! " 

 —Life. 



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