RECREA TION. 



419 



ridge, looking at our camp. There was 

 not a tree or bush between us and them, 

 and nothing behind them on the line of 

 our vision but the blue skies. What a 

 picture they would have made. 



"Mr. Butler," said I, " is your cam- 

 era unpacked ?" 



" Is my camera unpacked ? Why, I 

 left it at our main camp," said he. 



" Look yonder," said I, pointing in 

 the direction of the elk. 



''Great Scott," said he, " why didn't 

 you tell me we might see such a sight 

 as that. I should then have brought 

 the camera." 



We watched to see if the elk would 

 become frightened and run, but they 

 seemed satisfied no enemy was near, as 

 they were still feeding on the ridge 

 when it grew dark. 



We had a very early breakfast next 

 morning, and, as soon as it was light 

 enough to see clearly, started out in dif- 

 ferent directions, each man anxious to 

 find the big band. I had only gone 

 a short distance from camp when, 

 on climbing a low hill and looking with 

 my field glass, I found that the main 

 elk trail led down the Gros Ventre. 

 They had moved during the night, and 

 I was quite sure we would not see them 

 at all that day. I went in another direc- 

 tion, thinking I might find some 

 stragglers. I had only gone a short 

 distance when I saw five young bulls. 



I stalked them, and got within 150 

 yards of them, when they became un- 

 easy, turning their heads first in one 

 direction and then in another. I chose 

 the darkest-colored one (which, at this 

 season, would mean the fattest one) and 

 fired. He ran about 50 yards and fell 

 headlong, burying his head and antlers 

 in a snow drift. I had made a good 

 shot, however, as, upon dressing him, I 

 found my ball had cut nearly its full 

 calibre into his heart. 



While butchering my elk I heard 

 Butler firing, and counted until the shots 

 numbered to 17, when, looking across 

 the Gros Ventre in the direction of the 

 firing, I saw first about 10, then about 

 15, then about 12, and then 3 elk 

 making their way across an open park, 

 toward a body of heavy timber, which 

 they were not long in reaching. 



I packed my elk to camp, and shortly 

 after Butler came in. He had killed 

 one bull, and had seen about 50. Wig- 



gins and Youmans came in later. They 

 had not been so successful. 



We hung our meat up in the trees, 

 and the next morning moved down the 

 Gros Ventre about 12 miles, to my coal 

 claim, and went into camp. I had not 

 yet killed as much meat as I wanted, 

 and thought it best to kill the game be- 

 fore doing the work on the coaJ. I was 

 especially anxious to see the main band 

 of elk which I knew must be very large ; 

 and on the following morning started 

 out as soon as it was light. 



About four miles to the south of our 

 damp I came on a band of about 75 

 cows and succeeded in getting a fine fat 

 one. This was all the meat I wanted, 

 and I did not fire my gun again on that 

 trip. Butler found a bunch of about 30 

 cows and killed one. Wiggins came in 

 late in the evening with the butt of a 

 cartridge shell blown off, and the re- 

 mainder of the shell stuck in his gun, 

 which made of him a camp fixture 

 for the rest of the trip. Youmans came 

 in late also, but had not killed any- 

 thing. 



Early on the morning of December 1 

 I started in a northwesterly direction 

 from our camp, with the intention of 

 beginning work on my vein of coal, 

 which was some five miles distant. 



The country there is rough, with long 

 ridges sloping to the South, and toward 

 the Gros Ventre. These ridges are 

 covered with fine grass, and between 

 them are little springs of the finest water. 

 This kind of country extends some 30 

 miles, and only ends at the valley of 

 Jacksons Hole. It is all an excellent 

 elk country, and should we come on a 

 large band under unfavorable conditions, 

 such as the elk winding up or 

 being in the pine timber, they might 

 scatter over this vast range, and we 

 might miss the pleasure of seeing them 

 in one body. 



I therefore advanced cautiously, and 

 on climbing to the apex of each ridge, 

 would scan the country with my glasses. 

 While on one of these ridges I looked 

 in the direction of the Yellowstone 

 National park and saw that the Tetons, 

 Mount Morau, Mount Sheridan, and the 

 whole country at the heads of Two 

 Ocean and Pacific creeks, was buried 

 in snow. I now understood why so 

 many elk had collected together at this 

 point. 



