Sept. 28, 1895.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



269 



he said. The boys didn't know, of course, whether his 

 declaration meant that he intended to try and find his way 

 out to the settlements or stick by them, but they were 

 wasting valuable time and pulled out. 



VII. 



"Then horn for horn they atretch and stride, 

 t>eil take the hindmost, on they drive " 



The Cascade Mountains are extremely rough. Of course 

 all mountains are more or less rough, but the Cascades 

 are unusually so. There is much fallen timber, and the 

 growth of sal-lal, fern, thimbleberry, devil's walking 

 stick, buck brush and vine is truly wonderful to behold, 

 and more than surprising when you try to get through. 

 On the mountain sides this growth is interwoven like an 

 immense basket, and it is next to impossible to get up or 

 down or anywhere unless one is lucky enough to strike a 

 good deer trail. But by following the crests of the high 

 ridges reasonable progress may be made. The elk are 

 always away back except in midwinter, when the deep 

 snowB drive them down. They have their constant com- 

 panions in the cougar and elk wolf, whose chief avoca- 

 tions seem to be annoying the herds and destroying the 

 calves and the sick, wounded, aged and feeble. The life 

 of the ordinary elk must be one of care and anxiety. 

 Doubtless the elk of this country would have long since 

 been exterminated were it not for the hardships that must 

 be endured and the difficulties that must be encountered 

 and overcome in the hunting of them. All old hunters 

 know that a herd of elk can be easily annihilated when 

 once overtaken in the mountains if reasonable care is ex- 

 ercised and if the hunter feels so disposed. They often 

 seem to get rattled, bunch up and stand like a lot of fools 

 until the last one of them is shot down. This statement 

 may not apply to the elk of other countries, like Colo- 

 rado, Montana and Wyoming, for instance; I do not 

 know; but it is certainly true of the elk of the Cascade 

 and Coast ranges, 



The boys kept to the ridges and made good progress 

 under the circumstances, and before noon they had 

 reached a country that, apparently, was the home of the 

 elk* There was plenty of sign, and their trails were well 

 marked and well worn. It is not the easiest thing in the 

 world to find water about these high ridges, but that in- 

 stinct born of familiarity with one's surroundings soon 

 enabled Smyth to locate a fine spring of pure, sweet water 

 not a hundred yards from the spot they had chosen for 

 camp. Lunch and an hour's rest found the boys ready to 

 investigate the "deep recesses and dark canons of nature's 

 innermost temple," as Mead put it, or "a'most anywhere 

 else," as Swift suggested, that might by any possibility 

 reward their efforts and perspiration with an elk or two. 

 But before starting they took the wise precaution to care- 

 fully study their compasses and the general lay of the 

 country. And, too, they discreetly gathered plenty of 

 firewood and built a make-shift of a "shack" for the 

 night, and where they could cache, away their superfluous 

 luggage. Then they sauntered forth on their missions of 

 death. They went in pairs; Mead and the Doctor taking 

 one course, Smyth and Swift another. But fate had de- 

 creed that there should be no deaths that day. They 

 found plenty of sign and some small game, but no elk. 

 Not a gun had been fired, for although some tempting 

 shots had presented themselves at smaller game, they 

 were after elk this time and didn't propose to >alarm 

 them unnecessarily or jeopai'dize their chances of suc- 

 cess without more than ordinary provocation. They 

 felt well satisfied with the outlook and chatted 

 merrily while busying themselves, each in his own way, 

 about supper and the other usual requirements of camp 

 life. Smyth and Swift had seen a black wolf that "was 

 so sassy and impudent" that they felt strongly tempted to 



miner's cabin— big horn basin. 



"puncture" his "nasty carcass," but they had refrained 

 for the sake of better game. The Doctor and Mead had 

 found a salt lick within a mile of camp in a deep canon. 



They had not been able to detect anything peculiar 

 about the flavor of the water, but the elk and deer evi- 

 dently had, for they had worn a deep hole around it where 

 they had come from the canon and "pawed and licked," 

 etc., etc. There was lots to talk about and the boys 

 munched away at their rough mountain grub and chatted 

 and kughed, and munched and chatted, just as a set of 

 jolly sportsmen would under such conditions. Then they 

 put their pans and knives and forks away without wash- 

 ing — just as hunters generally do under such circum- 

 stances—lit their pipes, spread themselves out on the 

 grass, already a little damp with dew, and prepared for 

 the usual interchange of ideas, experiences and hunting 

 yarns. S. H. Greene. 



Portland, Oregon. 



[TO BE CONCLUDED.] 



What about Squirrels this Year? 



Conklin Statiox, N. Y., Sept. 11.— In twenty -five 

 years' hunting I have never seen so few squirrels at this 

 season. Millions of nuts of all kinds. Have got fourteen 

 grays, but have scouted about ten half-days to do it. 

 They may come later, but I doubt it. M. T, 



A DOUBLE IN MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 



Come with me, dear reader, to the interior of a miner's 

 log cabin in the northern end of the Big Horn Mountains 

 in Wyoming. Around a rough table, in the center of 

 which a candle placed in the neck of an empty beer bottle 

 sheds the only fight— for it is after supper— sit four pros- 

 pectors and hunters engaged in a social game of "high- 

 five." In the corner occupied by the stove Frank, the 

 cook, is busy washing the dishes after the evening meal, 

 while on two of the bunks which occupy one side of the 

 cabin three more hunters, the writer among the num- 

 ber, are half sitting, half reclining, upon buffalo robes and 

 blankets, watching the game of cards which their friends 

 are engaged in. The light shed by the single candle pro- 

 duces strong contrasts of light and shadows, and the 

 whole scene, if reproduced upon canvas, would require 

 the brush and genius of a Rembrandt to do it justice. 



Few words are spoken except sltch as have reference to 

 the card game. Finally Billy J. , one of the players, 

 addressing me, says: "Well, Mr. F., are you going with 



WASHING GOLD. 



me after those sheep to-morrow?" to which I jokingly 

 reply that I'd go if I were quite sure that the sheep 

 whose tracks Billy claims to have seen are wild and not 

 tame ones. 



Billy and Jake had been hunting that day about 5 miles 

 northwest of the camp. They had killed an elk and 

 brought the venison home, and furthermore stated that 

 they had scared a large band of mountain sheep which had 

 unfortunately winded them before they had got sight of 

 them. 



It seemed strange indeed that such wild game as elk 

 and sheep should still abide in the neighborhood of the 

 camp, which at that time was peopled by at least fifty 

 miners and prospectors, who when fresh meat was needed 

 took an off-day and a turn at hunting to supply their 

 larder. Still, I knew from experience that deer and 

 antelope were yet reasonably plentiful, though of course 

 very wild, and finally concluded to go with Billy and 

 Alex. W. next morning and see whether we could not 

 get a sheep. 



Bright and early we intended to start, but a strict re- 

 gard for the truth compels me to state that it was 8 

 o'clock before we left, because my horse had strayed dur- 

 ing the night and had to be found first. Poor Sorrel 

 Jim! A couple of months later and he laid down afflicted 

 with some mysterious disease and died. He was a first- 

 rate hunting horse, gentle, sure footed and of great en- 

 durance, and for a Western horse rather good-looking. 



Well, as I said, it was 8 o'clock before we started. We 

 took a lunch along and also our canteens filled with 

 water, for there was none where we intented to hunt. 

 The trail led us first past the base of Big Bald Mountain, 

 then in a northerly direction to the headwaters of Porcu- 

 piue Creek and finally west to the base and up the side of 

 Medicine Mountain. There the stiff climb and the rari- 

 fied air of this altitude — some 10,000ft. above sea level — 

 soon told upon our horses, which we had to rest every 

 few minutes to let them regain their wind. As the 

 weather looked rather threatening in the morning I did 

 not take my camera along, and of course have since re- 

 gretted that fact. The view to the west of Medicine 

 Mountain is simply magnificent. Some 180 miles away 

 the main chain of the Rockies, snow-covered and looking 

 blue in the distance, can be distinctly seen, enabling me 

 to point out to my two companions the country where I 

 had hunted the previous fall— in the Sierra Shoshone. 

 At our feet lay the Big Horn Basin. So clear and trans- 

 parent was the atmosphere that all the more northern 

 affluents up the Big Horn River, the Stinking water, the 

 Grey Bull, Gooseberry Creek, etc., could be distinctly 

 traced to their sources, looking like blue silk threads 

 among the reddish-yellow coloring of the surrounding 

 Bad Lands, while here and there small fringes of green 

 denote where a few cottonwood trees have found water 

 and soil sufficient for their existence. The sublimity and 

 color effect combined in this view I have never found 

 elsewhere. No wonder then that the former inhabitants 

 of the country, t.he red men, used to come here to wor- 

 ship their deity. On the very top of Medicine Mountain 

 can still be seen the so-called Medicine Wheel, the plan 

 and general arrangement of which bear a striking resem- 

 blance to the famous Calender Stone of Old Mexico. Ab 

 the name implies, this Medicine Wheel is a circle com- 

 posed of loose stones. In the middle of it is a hut (also of 

 stone) from which spokes of stones radiate (like in a wheel) 

 to the circumference, there terminating in smaller huts. 

 It is said that these smaller huts were, during the religious 

 ceremonies, occupied by the medicine men of the different 

 tribes, while the larger hut in the center was supposed to 

 be the abode of Manitou. The wheel appears to be of 

 great antiquity. The nearest Indian tribe, the Crows, 

 whose reservation is only a few miles distant, know 

 nothing about its age, arid the former inhabitants of the 



country, the Sioux, say it was on Medicine Mountain when 

 they and their forefathers occupied the land._ 



Medicine Mountain itself is evidently an extinct volcano. 

 Our horses threaded their way to the top among numerous 

 funnel-shaped craters, which were from 6ft. to about 20ft. 

 in diameter, and here we found, sure enough, fresh signs 

 of sheep. It was certainly a good locality for those ani- 

 mals, though at no place does the mountain rise above 

 timber line, like its neighbor, Big Bald Mountain, does. 

 We now tethered our horses and began to hunt afoot. I 

 was to walk along the very top of the ridge while my two 

 companions were to hunt a couple of hundred yards 

 below me. We had hardly left our horseB and had not 

 yet separated when I, being slightly in advance, distinctly 

 smelt game. Now, this statement may seem incredible 

 to some Eastern sportsmen, but I nevertheless affirm that 

 I have on more than one occasion distinctly smelt elk, 

 deer and she.'p before I have ever seen them — that is, of 

 course, when the wind blew from the game to me, as it 

 did on this occasion. 



I motioned to my companions, who acknowledged the 

 scent, if such an expression is permissible under the cir- 

 cumstances. A minute or so later I saw three sheep — all 

 of them rams — a couple of hundred yards straight ahead 

 of us and some 70 or 80yds. below the top of the ridge 

 feeding among some dwarfed elders with which the side 

 of the mounta ; n was more or less covered. A minute in- 

 spection with the field glasses showed that they bore fair 

 heads, and a stalk was at once arranged. Directly above 

 the sheep the mountain was comparatively flat and level, 

 and as the wind was in our favor we safely reached a 

 point where, sheltered from view by the low branches of 

 a cedar, we had gotten within some 80yds. of our game. 

 Another look of observation now showed me that not 

 three but eleven rams were feeding right below me, all 

 unconscious of danger. Asking Billy to take the glasses 

 and watch the result of the shot (Alex W. declaring that 

 he did not care to shoot) I prepared to slay the biggest 

 ram. Well did I know that I, as the beast was almost 

 directly below me, had to be very careful not to over- 

 shoot, but was Nirdly prepared to hear Billy's "right over 

 his back" as tr ? right barrel of the little .40 Express 

 woke the echoes of the mountain. Hurriedly aiming the 

 left barrel, loaded with a solid bullet, at what I thought 

 almost the feet of another ram as they rushed past below 

 me, I saw him stagger to the shot, but he recovered him- 

 self in an instant and went on with his mates. 



Quickly reloading, I ran along the edge of the cliff to 

 obtain if possible another chance at the rams, which had 

 gone in the direction of where we had left our horses. 

 As I reached the shelter of a pine tree I saw on the small 

 plateau/ slightly below and not 40yds. from me, my 

 wounded ram. He was walking along looking very sick, 

 with his shoulder all covered with blood. To make sure 

 of him I gave him the right barrel of the little Fraser be- 

 hind the shoulder, to which he succumbed at once. The 

 noise of the shot brought the rest of the band into view 

 again, galloping wildly past. Selecting a ram with a 

 good head, I aimed a trifle ahead of him and saw him go 

 down all of a heap. Then Billy began to pump lead from 

 his Winchester at the now thoroughly demoralized band, 

 but without result; and Alex. W., whom I had lost track 

 of since my first shot, was also now heard from, firing 

 three or four shots in rapid succession. When he came to 

 join us he told us that he had wounded a large ram, shoot- 

 ing him in the sticking place, and that he had found 

 blood. While he and Billy tracked the wounded ram, 

 whom they followed for over a mile, but finally lost, I 

 sat down to admire my prizes. Was there ever such luck? 

 The whole thing, from the time we began to hunt afoot 

 to the killing of the two rams, had hardly ocoupied 

 twenty minutes; and furthermore, these accommodating 



IN THE TONGUE RIVER BASIN. 



sheep had run right toward our horses to save us the 

 trouble of packing them, and here two of them were 

 now lying dead within 10yds. of each other. How I 

 now wished for my little camera! Surely St. Hubert 

 had been my patron saint that day, and I duly pledged 

 the old saint in a tumblerful of sherry. 



When my two companions returned we gralloched the 

 two rams and packed the hindquarters and the heads on 

 Billy's horse, leaving the forequarters to be called for the 

 next day. Then we alternately walked and rode back to 

 camp, which we reached in good season. The heads of 

 the two rams, the horns of which measure, one 14J, 

 the other 14in., while nothing extra as to size, are never- 

 theless among the most prized of my collection, bringing 

 back to my memory my shortest and at the same time my 

 most successful stalk after that wariest of all our moun- 

 tain game, the bighorn of the Rockies. 



Paul Francke 



An Old-Time Lobster's Claw. 



Over forty years ago, Elias Totnian, of Pbippsburg, was fishing off 

 Bald Head, Small Point, when his hook caught in something heavy 

 and he began to pull up a dead weight that might have been a small 

 anchor. Imagine his astonishment when a huge lobster came over 

 the side— a lobster so big that it weighed 35Ibs„ and its claws were 

 13itt. long and 9in. broad. The lobster was boiled in a wash boiler be- 

 cause the family kettle was not large enough. About six years ago 

 Mr. A. Y. Johnson J this city came into possession of one of those 

 great claws, that ha jbeen kept in the Totman family all those years. 

 The other day he gave the claw to Mr. Henry Sargent.— Portland 

 Daily Brest. 



