THREE THOUSAND ELK. 



Nelson Yarnall. 



IN December last I saw the larg- 

 est band of elk it has ever been 

 my good fortune to look upon, and, I 

 believe, as large a band as has ever been 

 seen in northern Wyoming. 



I had previously discovered what I 

 believed to be a vein of anthracite coal, 

 and went out to get some samples of it 

 for assay. At the same time I wanted 

 to get a few pack loads of elk meat for 

 winter use. 



In order to do this I would have to 

 cross the continental divide on to the 

 head waters of the Gros Ventre, one of 

 the main tributaries of the " Shoshone," 

 or Snake River, and, although so late in 

 the season, I determined to take the 

 chances on getting snowed in, and push 

 across. 



Having supplied ourselves with can- 

 vas for wickiups, and with plenty of 

 good, warm clothing, we put on our 

 packs and, on the morning of the 25th 

 of November, made a start. My party 

 consisted of three men besides myself — 

 namely, Wiggins, Youmans and Butler, 

 all good mountain men, and men on 

 whom I knew I could rely in any emer- 

 gency. 



Our first day's march was in a west- 

 erly direction and along the Wind 

 river valley to the confluence of that 

 stream with the Dunoir, one of its main 

 tributaries. This we reached about 3 

 p. m., and here we saw our first elk 

 sign. During the previous haying sea- 

 son some one had cut and put up a 

 small stack of hay. Near this we found 

 the trail of about 100 elks. They had 

 been feeding on the hay and, from the 

 appearance of the little stack, had had 

 an " Omaha dance " on it. 



We moved around the spur of a 

 ridge, just out of sight of the hay, and 

 went into camp, thinking the elk might 

 return to resume their dance, but in 

 this we were disappointed. They had 

 finished and were gone. Their trail led 

 up the Wind river and in the direction 

 of the Lincoln pass. As this was the 

 pass on which we expected to cross the 

 range, we packed up early the next morn- 

 ing and followed them. They had evi- 



dently filled their stomachs from the 

 little haystack, for they did not stop to 

 feed or bed until they reached the sum- 

 mit, a distance of about 22 miles. 



After following them about 15 

 miles we gave them up and went into 

 camp, just at the base of Mount Greg- 

 ory and to the east of the pass. On 

 the morning of the 27th we packed up 

 early and started over the mountains on 

 the Sheridan trail and still on our elk trail 

 of the previous day, they having come 

 into the Sheridan trail where it leaves 

 the Wind river and strikes across the 

 range. 



We reached the summit after a pretty 

 stiff climb of about two and a half 

 hours, and found that our elk, after 

 feeding and resting, had turned to the 

 left at a right angle from our trail and 

 had gone in the direction of the Green 

 river and to the west of the Union 

 Peaks. I was now satisfied this band 

 had been run by some party (possibly 

 of Shoshone Indians), and might not 

 stop in a long distance, so we did not 

 follow them further, but pushed ahead 

 and made camp on the Gros Ventre, at 

 3 o'clock in the afternoon, having trav- 

 eled about 20 miles. 



We were now on the lower levels and 

 in an ideal game country, where bodies 

 of pine timber alternate with parks 

 covered with the richest of grass. There 

 are many springs, from which little 

 streams of water run in every direction. 

 The whole country, as far as we could 

 see, was covered with elk tracks. There 

 were trails going in every direction. 

 Some of the game had been feeding and 

 some traveling, giving evidence of a 

 very large band near by. 



We did not try to stalk the game that 

 afternoon, as it was getting late, but 

 prepared our camp for the night, and, 

 while sitting around the camp fire 

 cooking our evening meal, I looked 

 across the Gros Ventre (which at this 

 point is but a small creek) to the south 

 of our camp and saw, about half a mile 

 away, what to the true sportsman is one 

 of the grandest sights imaginable. Eleven 

 bull elk were standing on the crest of a 



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