AT LONG RANGE. 



ALBERT W. DAVIES. 



I spent the winter of '98-9 in the moun- 

 tains of Northern Wyoming. It was un- 

 usually severe. The snow fell almost daily 

 for 3 months, and the piercing winds came 

 over the divide and swept down the sides 

 of the mountains, gathering it into drifts 

 6 to 20 feet deep. In summer this section 

 of the West is a garden spot of Nature, 

 with its wooded hills and variety of vegeta- 

 tion, but in winter the outlook is desolate, 

 indeed. 



I had come from the home ranch in New 

 York City the year before, in search of 

 health. Six months later I was followed 

 for the same reason by a chum. We de- 

 cided to take up homestead claims and be- 

 come ranchmen, stockmen, or whatever 

 offered. During the summer we had been 

 employed at a gold working 12 miles above 

 Dubois, on the road to Yellowstone park, 

 and had visited a pretty little valley through 

 which ran Hunter's creek, a tributary of 

 Upper Wind river. This latter stream runs 

 at the foot of the Wind River mountains, 

 which flank the Shoshone Indian reserva- 

 tion on the West. It is a swift and dan- 

 gerous mountain stream in the spring, but 

 an angler's paradise in summer. When 

 gold sluicing ended in October we made a 

 100 mile^ trip to Lander, and made home- 

 stead filings at the Land Office for 320 

 acres in the valley mentioned. We then 

 loaded a 4 horse team with winter pro- 

 visions and providing ourselves with the 

 implements to build a mansion, we returned 

 to our demesne. The valley nestled at the 

 foot of a high ridge, the Eastern slope of 

 which was heavily wooded, so with little 

 labor we built a 24 x 16 log cabin on the 

 bank of the creek and prepared for a long 

 winter. We had sent East for 2 of the lat- 

 est rifles and a large supply of ammunition. 

 Game is abundant in Wyoming and we had 

 to depend on our skill as hunters for our 

 winter's meat. We had a cheerful little 

 home and as the wind and snow swept 

 around the corners of the cabin and hurled 

 themselves against the door we would throw 

 a big stick of wood on the fire and settle 

 down for a quiet smoke. We had taken the 

 precaution to have skis made and had be- 

 come proficient in the use of them, being 

 able to take almost any steep hillside safely. 

 We made frequent expeditions in search 

 of game to try our skill, being strictly 

 tenderfeet in using a rifle, but found that 

 the elks and deer had not yet come down 

 from the mountains. By November, how- 

 ever, when the snow was getting deep and 

 we were sick of fried bacon, we discovered 



the broad trail of a band of elks that 

 had fed on Elk ridge hill near. The fol- 

 lowing day we started out with rifles and 

 snowshoes, our hopes and nerves being at 

 a high tension. We searched the Eastern 

 slope of the ridge without success, and hav- 

 ing reached the top prepared to hunt the 

 other side. As the snow does not lie deep 

 on that slope, owing to the wind having 

 a clean sweep, we left our skis on the top 

 of the ridge. There were a few scattering 

 pines and plenty of large rocks and boul- 

 ders on that side, obstructing a full view 

 but affording good skulking places. We 

 had gone but a few yards when Fred drew 

 me down behind a boulder saying breath- 

 lessly he had seen a band of elk half way 

 down the slope. This was a cheering an- 

 nouncement, but we were instantly seized 

 with buck fever and for a few moments 

 stared each other helplessly in the face. 

 After the shaking had ceased and the grip 

 on our rifles had relaxed, I cautiously 

 peeped over the top of the boulder, and 

 there, 600 yards below us, was a sight to 

 quicken the pulse. Seven magnificent elk 

 were quietly feeding. We held a whispered 

 consultation as to how to get nearer them. 

 A sure shot at that distance was hardly 

 possible, even with 30-30's. The wind blew 

 toward us so we crawled toward the game 

 slowly and succeeded in getting 150 yards 

 nearer, when, to our utter dismay, a big 

 bull, evidently stationed as lookout, and 

 which we had not seen before, saw us and 

 gave the danger signal. Instantly they 

 rounded together in a bunch, waiting for 

 one to take the lead ; then made tracks for 

 safety. Hardly knowing what to do under 

 the circumstances, we commenced to fire 

 into the band, thinking the noise would 

 buffalo them so as to turn them in our 

 direction. It had almost the desired effect, 

 for they stopped "short in their wild rush 

 and stood frightened, not knowing which 

 way to run. This gave me an opportunity, 

 and dropping on one knee I drew a fine 

 sight on the head of a big fellow, and as 

 the shot rang out he dropped. In a frac- 

 tion of a second the rest of the band were 

 making tremendous bounds slanting up the 

 ridge. As they passed us Fred took a long 

 chance shot at the nearest animal. The shot 

 told and the elk stumbled and fell, but as 

 the others headed down the side again, it 

 got up and disappeared over the top of the 

 ridge in the direction of the cabin, dropping 

 big splashes of blood at every leap. Know- 

 ing it was badly hurt and would not travel 

 far, we went down to where my game had 



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