
A HUNT IN 
THE BIG HOLE. 
CLARENCE JAY. 
In the fall of 1882 a party of 5—Colwel, 
Decker, Lockrey, father and I—pulled out 
of Barratt’s and took the hill road around 
Pointdexter’s ranch to Rattlesnake creek. 
There we turned West and passed Road 
Agent’s rock, the scene of many a hold-up 
by Plummer, Slade and others in days 
when that region was an El Dorado. A 
few miles farther on we came to Bannock 
City, shrunken to one street and about 60 
inhabitants, though once the richest gold 
camp in Montana. Thousands of acres sur- 
rounding it had been torn up and washed in 
search of gold, and the banks of the creek 
were so honey-combed with tunnels as to 
resemble a gigantic hornet’s nest. 
We drove through the town and camped 
for dinner on the creek a little way be- 
yond. Then we journeyed on up the valley 
of the Grasshopper, passing a few stock 
ranches. Late in the afternoon we ran 
into a bunch of sage hens, and Decker, 
father and I piled out, armed for war. We 
could muster but 3 weapons in the crowd, 
2 needle guns and an old 45 repeater. With 
them we managed to pick up one or 2 
birds and waste a lot of ammunition. 
At Bald Mountain we crossed the bench 
land to the divide at Big Hole basin, and, 
turning from the road to the timber a mile 
or so back, went into camp under a big 
pine. Having no tent, we used a wagon 
sheet to keep off the dew. About bed 
time we were treated to a concert by a 
band of coyotes. They made noise enough 
for a score, but Colwel said there were 
only 3 or 4. 
_ After breakfast next morning Colwel, 
father and I struck into the timber, separ- 
ating as we advanced. I had not gone far 
and was tiptoeing along with the needle 
gun at full cock, when a deer broke cover. 
Just as I fired the animal passed out of 
sight behind a tree. However, I found its 
track and a few drops of blood on the pine 
needles that covered the ground. I fol- 
lowed the trail some distance but finding 
no evidence that the deer was badly hurt, I 
turned back toward camp. 
Farther on I came to an old fire slash, 
thickly grown with young pine. In the 
middle of it I came face to face with a large 
black bear. It was a case of mutual re- 
pulsion; Bruin ran one way and I the 
other. I lost my hens, tore my clothes and 
scratched my face and hands, never paus- 
ing in my flight until I reached a ledge of 
rock. On that I perched until I heard 
several shots near. Presently a deer 
flashed through the brush and a few min- 
359 
utes later Colwel came in sight. He laughed 
heartily at my forlorn appearance and asked 
what had happened. I kept the bear story 
to myself and merely said I was resting 
on the ledge. 
I went with Colwel to help carry in a 
deer he had killed. It was a big buck 
mule deer, and the first dead deer I had 
seen. We slung it on a pole and reached 
camp with it about nightfall. 
The following morning we crawled up 
the .divide toward Big Hole. Reaching 
Bull creek, we turned to the foothills and 
crossed a low mountain that juts into the 
valley. Then came a gradual descent to 
the hot springs and a jog down the valley 
until it was time to camp for the night. 
We continued our journey and by noon 
reached Noovis’, the only ranch on Big 
Hole at that time. There we forded the 
river and turned West, camping on Trail 
creek. , 
Heading South we went on to the tim- 
ber and camped in a small opening. There 
was a spring on one side and on the other 
a creek that beaver had dammed, making 
a small pond. A well beaten game trail ran 
through the clearing, and all around we 
could see where bear had been digging 
skunk cabbage roots. We turned in after 
supper, leaving the fire burning brightly. 
About to o'clock there was a commotion. 
The horses, which were tied to the wagon, 
snorted and plunged furiously. They upset 
the wagon but did not get away. We all 
heard 2 bears rush across the creek, and 
the next morning we found tracks wider 
than my hand and 14 inches long. 
I remained in camp the next day while 
the others went hunting. About 9 someone 
began shooting, back in the timber, and kept 
at it until I counted tr shots. Pretty 
soon I heard another shot from a different 
gun. An hour later Colwel came in and 
said father had killed a moose. We put the 
harness on the horses, and, with the whif- 
fle-trees and a rope, went after the moose. 
We passed Decker sitting on a log, the 
sickest looking man I ever saw.. He had 
been the first to see the moose and had 
fired at it as long as he was able to load 
the gun. Father came up in time to see 
the animal making off leisurely and Decker 
standing with mouth open and knees knock- 
ing together, both hands full of cartridges 
and his gun on the ground. 
Before we came home I shot an ante- 
lope and a mountain sheep. The others 
were also fortunate, and we pulled out with 
meat enough to last far into the winter. 
