XX1V 
RECREATION. 
sss SSS 
A PROSPECTOR’S HOLIDAY. 
GEO. F. WRIGHT. 
_Last winter, while encamped on Snake 
river about 100 miles above Lewiston, we 
saw bighorn sign. We were prospectors; 
but it was our off season and there was 
plenty of grub in the cabin. Moreover, 
as we could not get back across the Seven 
Devil mountains until spring we could well 
afford to put in a day or so after sheep. 
The pursuit of that variety of game is 
usually beset with difficulties that make it 
more work than sport; but it was different 
with us. : : Ly 
_ For 100 miles or more Snake river Tuns 
In a canyon which is relieved here and 
there by flats a few acres in extent»at the 
mouth of some mountain stream. =,These 
flats yield fine gold, as does all the dirt 
along the river. Travel beside the stfeam 
is exceedingly dangerous; so we had crossed 
the mountains, a few weeks before, to 
reach our flat. Although shut out from 
civilization, we were happy. There. was 
no snow on the flats and but little on 
the lower slopes of the mountains. The 
richness of the soil in that region makes 
amends for its scarcity. There the bunch 
grass loses its destinctive feature. It does 
not bunch, but forms a carpet that brings 
joy to the heart of a hungry cayuse. Nor 
is there lack of animal life. The morning 
after we got settled I found, across the 
steam and not a stone’s throw from our 
shack, the remains of a bighorn buck, with 
cougar sign around it. 
When ready for our hunt we started 
afoot, leading a pack horse, for the moun- 
tain summit. The trail was badly uptilted 
at the farther end, but after 3 hours’ climb- 
ing we bumped into zero weather. Just 
inside it stood the Grand Patriarch of all 
the bighorn bucks on that range. Not 
long did he stand, and out of sight he went 
before we could get a shot. A thousand 
yards away he came into view again, going 
23 feet at a jump and not rising in the air 
an inch. 
My partner had recovered his breath by 
that time, and blazed away with a .45-70. 
The first shot struck 100 feet too low, and 
the second was worse. I was so complete- 
ly out of breath that I knew I could not 
shoot standing. Running to an opening, 
I threw myself flat on what I too late 
found was a snow bank. When I had res- 
cued myself I began pumping pug-nosed 
bullets into the vacuum th: buck was mak- 
ing. I scored clean misses with my first 
2 shots. The third was a scratch on the 
white patch the buck wore on his trousers. 
What was left of his heart after the fourth 
shot, we had for lunch. The horns were 
14% inches around. 
A few minutes later we reached the 
summit of the mountain. The top, sliced 
off by glacial action, is a plateau of about 
200 acres, exposing a rich deposit of gold- 
bearing gravel. Miners who visit the 
place in the spring can, with the little 
snow water they are able to save, rock out 
$10 to $20 a day for a few weeks. 
In one of the cabins on the summit we 
ate a light lunch of 2 quarts of pink beans, 
the same quantity of coffee, dashed with 
canned cream, and, last and greatest, the 
heart of the buck. 
Then we looked across Snake river at 
Oregon and range after range of golden, 
green, red and snow-capped mountains. It 
was worth living 32 years just to stand 
there and look. Almost under our feet, 
far below winter, we could see summer 
and our cabin in the valley; and every- 
where about us, amid kinnikinnic brush and 
mountain mahogany, was mule deer sign. 
We continued the hunt after exchang- 
ing rifles; my partner saying that having 
‘seen a full Lyman rigged Savage at work, 
he was disgusted with his smoke-maker. 
Coming presently to a little mound cov- 
ered with mahogany, he took one side and 
I the other. In a few minutes I walked 
out of the brush and almost into 2 mag- 
nificent bucks facing each other and paw- 
ing the snow. In the same instant they 
saw me and were off down the mountain. 
When I had fired 3-times one was out of 
sight and the other lay, 300 yards away, 
with a hole in his head and one of his 
prongs shot off. He was a beauty, and so 
heavy I.could not drag him. I called my 
partner, and we cut off the buck’s head and 
hung it up after making a second count of 
the 10 points it sported. 
The fact that impressed us most was 
that though we had eaten game meat of all 
kinds, from the Arctic circle to any old 
place, we had never enjoyed anything else 
as we did the flavor of that buck’s liver. 
Large thick slices of it, well done with 
bacon on the side, sour dough bread and a 
ravenous appetite combined in the making 
of a gastronomic triumph. How so much 
tenderness got inside such a hunk of 
gristle as that deer was, I have not yet 
figured out. We could not stick a knife 
in gravy made from the rest of the beast. 

Detroit, Mich. 
The Peters Cartridge Co., 
Cincinnati, Ohio. 
Dear Sirs: You are not the only mant- 
facturer of shells, and friends of REcREA- 
TION can use other brands. You should 
bear in mind that there is only one REcRE- 
ATION, that its friends are legion and that 
most of its subscribers, myself included, do 
not use shells not advertised in it. 
F, H. Cogswell. 

I am very much pleased with your maga- 
zine, as I think everyone who enjoys sport 
ought to be. I have read a good many 
books, but ReEcREATION beats them all. 
et B, Edminster, White River Junction, 
t. 

