FROM THE GAME FIELDS. 



HUNTING IN THE BLACK HILLS. 



R. B. BARNARD. 



My brother George and I reached Sheri- 

 dan, Wyo., Thursday evening, and at once 

 looked up a guide and a conveyance to 

 take us to Bald mountain. 



We met a fellow, whom I will call Bar- 

 ney, bound on a hunting trip in the same 

 direction, and joined forces with him. 



The next morning found us stowing 

 guns, ammunition, cameras and ourselves 

 in a " prairie schooner," with the guide 

 " Old Bill " holding the ribbons. 



At noon we stopped at a shack in the 

 foot hills, where we got dinner, and a short 

 time later we 'were on the road again. 



About the middle of the afternoon a 

 snow storm struck us, but we didn't mind 

 snow in September. 



Bill told us to be on the watch for 

 grouse; so George and I took our guns 

 and walked up the hill for a mile or so. 



We were strolling along in the snow 

 when, bang! went George's gun and I sud- 

 denly realized what I was there for. George 

 went rushing after his grouse, and up went 

 a covey just in front of me. I, never hav- 

 ing seen any grouse before, forgot I had 

 a gun for a minute. Bill yelled " Shoot! 

 you fool, shoot! " so I cut loose and 

 brought down my first grouse. I left the 

 trail and soon kicked out another covey 

 and got another bird. 



I went back to the wagon congratulat- 

 ing myself on having better luck than 

 George, for I had not heard him shoot but 

 once. When I got there, however, there 

 was George with 4 birds. 



We started on again and reached the 

 " half way shack," where we got accom- 

 modations for the night. 



After supper we smoked and told stories 

 for a while, and had gone to bed, when 

 one of the boys came in and said a moun- 

 tain lion was after the sheep. We were 

 up in a moment and ready to go out. 

 When we got to the shed Mac (proprietor 

 of the halfway house) and Bill, had the 

 horses saddled and we started. 



We circled quietly around the pen, but 

 the lion was too cute for us and sneaked 

 away. 



We went back to bed and were not dis- 

 turbed until at 4 the next morning, Mac 

 called us to breakfast. That over we sad- 

 dled our horses and rode about 20 miles 

 back into the mountains. There we began 

 to see signs of deer. So leaving Bill to 

 keep the horses we started afoot. 



George and I were to watch an old run- 

 way while Barney and Mac drove the deer 

 around. 



We sat on a log for a half hour or more, 

 planning what we would do if a deer should 

 come that way. 



Soon we heard a crash and looking in 

 the direction of the noise, saw a large buck 

 bound out of the brush into the clearing, 

 about 30 rods from us. George was on his 

 feet in an instant and taking aim, but he 

 didn't shoot. He stopped to look and say 

 "Gee! he's a dandy!" By that time the 

 deer was going at the rate of 10 feet at a 

 bound in the opposite direction. 



I think it was a clear case of buck fever. 

 I had lots of questions to answer, a few 

 minutes later, when Mac and Barney ap- 

 peared. 



Mac and I then started out together, and 

 at another runway I succeeded in bringing 

 down a deer with one shot. 



Barney and George had as good luck 

 as we. Barney started a deer a mile from 

 where we were and George captured the 

 prize with 2 shots. " 



We set' out for camp and reached there 

 about 8 o'clock. 



We tumbled into bed pretty early that 

 night and the next day visited the gold 

 mining camps 30 miles further in the moun- 

 tains. 



We started from Bald Mountain City on 

 the return trip Monday morning and 

 reached Sheridan Tuesday evening. 



We had some grouse and sage hens that 

 we shot coming down the mountain, and 

 we brought some venison with us which 

 we shipped to our homes. 



George and I enjoy talking over our trip, 

 but he does not like to have me say much 

 about the first deer we saw. 



Skaguay, Alaska. 



Editor Recreation: More than a dozen 

 steamers land here each week, and we never 

 have a chance to get acquainted with the 

 passengers, for they now have no trouble to 

 get to the lakes, over this trail. They have 

 been going through by the hundreds, all 

 winter. There are plenty of packers who 

 have stations "between here and Lake Ben- 

 nett, and have taken outfits over as cheap as 

 7 cents a pound, when the trail was good. 

 The ice in the canyon is fast dropping in, 

 and almost every trip now seems to be the 

 last. Then every one will be compelled to 

 use the wagon-road and pay toll. This toll, 

 however, will be so small and the road kept 

 in such a good condition there will be no 

 chance for anyone to object to paying. 



The men who are coming now are not 

 like those who were in the mad rush of last 

 summer and fall. The latter were mostly 

 men who were excited over the reports that 

 plenty of big nuggets were to be had 



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