HUNTING BIG GAME IN WYOMING 
The guide had a log cabin on the edge 
of the basin and as there were antelope 
near by, we concluded to stop there for a 
few days. As the cabin had not been used 
for a long time we found the earth floor 
honeycombed by badgers, and wood rats 
were plentiful, but we soon had the place in 
good shape, and with new spruce on the 
bunk and a roaring fire in the large fireplace 
I felt myself on the way for a good time. 
Before supper I took my .22 rifle, and after 

a short stroll along a pine-clad draw, came 
back with two fat blue grouse, and the 
camp meal the first night was most enjoy- 
able. On this little excursion I also saw 
on the occasional patches of snow a few 
elk and antelope tracks, which gave me 
renewed hope of success in securing big 
game in the near future. 
Early the following morning we started 
for a range of low hills a short distance 
from camp, and with my glasses I soon 
located a bunch of pronghorns quietly 
grazing in a little valley about a mile away. 
We made a detour to leeward of them, and 
as I raised up from behind a knoll, within 
200 yards, they went off on a gallop. One 
shot from my .303 and a fine fat doe was 
left behind, giving us plenty of meat and a 
splendid head for mounting. In this bunch 
of about twenty-five was only one small 
THE AUTHOR’S PACK OUTFIT IN THE WIND RIVER BASIN 
41 
buck, and I found does largely predomina- 
ting in all of the herds I saw. 
Not finding any elk, we concluded to go 
into the basin. Before going down the steep 
trail that leads into the basin, I looked it 
over through the glasses. It lay the circular 
depression in the land between the Wind 
River Mountains on the east, Gros Ventres 
on the north and the mighty Tetons toward 
the west. The surface of this depression 
was interspersed with mountains, valleys, 

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lh’ “7. 
hills and innumerable clear, sparkling 
streams and small lakes; groves of spruce, 
pine and other varieties of trees and shrubs. 
It was surrounded by snowclad peaks and 
mountains. There was not a sound to break 
the almost painful stillness, and I gazed 
long at this scene, beautiful beyond 
description and long to be remembered 
with the keenest pleasure. 
Once in the basin we selected a charming 
site for our camp, and from there we hunted 
in the vicinity for several days. But in the 
entire time we only heard the whistle of one 
bull elk. The side of the mountain from 
where the sound came had a heavy growth 
of timber and was covered by several feet 
of crusted snow, and so we only had the 
satisfaction of seeing his tracks and where 
he had turned in his course and crossed 
over the range. 
