FOREST AND STREAM. 



431 



raising. It is near enough to the mountains to be as 

 much of a liome to the elk as their own wild and native 

 feeding grounds; it is dotted with springs, and has. 

 besides, the peculiar water source of an immense snow 

 bank which lies for three-fourths of the year on the 

 mountain side overlooking the ranch, and from which are 



• sent streams of purest water to traverse and enrich the 

 broad hay lands calling Cush master; and again, the 

 ranch, situated as it is in the immediate vicinity of 

 mountain and forest, affords the best of opportunities for 

 Thong to recruit the domesticated elk herd by timely 

 raids on the wild elk bands. 



"Thong is of mixed bull and staghound blood, giving 

 him endurance, speed, courage and tenacity of grip, and 



'is nearly as famous for his exploits in defeating the 

 mountain lion as in the capture of the elk." 



THE TRAIL OF IT, 



Three men, including the maker of this brief chron- 

 icle, were seated on a bench before a fire in a log 

 cabin on Grand River. Colorado, smoking and elaborating 

 adventures. These narrations differed from the usual, 

 because they were true in every particular. You can see 

 if you read the following, which is a sample of many, 

 that it has the plain, rugged appearance of the inflexible 

 fact. 



One of the trio, a man of Scotch descent, fifty years of 

 age, a mountaineer and hunter of rare experience, told 

 of a s cuffle die once had with a bull elk. He looked at 

 the lire as he talked, twirling his pipe iu his fingers by 

 way of emphasis, and spoke in the measured tones of one 

 who has outgrown the necessity for dramatic illustra 

 linns. 



•'I was over in the Wet Mountain Valley winter before 

 last hel pin' some men tend 800 head o' cattle. We put 

 up a cabin, 'bout like this, and made a corral that took 

 in nigh on to three acres of ground, The fence was, 

 well, say ten foot high, of pine poles, good and strong. 



"One time the boys was off, and the corral had not 

 been used for a week. The big gate was open, squirrels 

 played on the fence, grouse come and lit on the stakes, 

 and things generally was layin' 'round loose. Sometimes 

 I could hear panthers jump off n the fence by the gate, 

 where the woods made a kind of corner close up. It was 

 a little lonesome when a fellow had to stay there alone, 

 but Ave got used to it, you know, and didn't mind it 

 much. 



"Sometimes the greasers would come 'round, mostly 

 when the boys was away, but they knowed the guns we 

 ha d could talk, and say what yon will, there isn't a greaser, 

 or an Injun, or any of 'em that likes to have a shooter 

 stunk into their faces. 



' One mornin' 'bout daylight, I heard something walkin' 

 'round in the corral. It's hard work, you know, to tell 

 every time just what kind of a noise it is that wakes you 

 up out'u a sound sleep. You know it's a noise, but what 

 it is and where it is, is hard to settle on. With us it was 

 a rule to git up and find out all about it, and then you're 

 satisfied. So I got up and looked out o' the winder. 



"Well, sir, you can call me Dennis if there wasn't two 

 elk out there, a cow and a big fellow with tremenjus 

 horns, makin' for the haystack at the other side of the 

 corral. 



" ' Good enough,' I said to myself , with a sort of chuckle. 

 J I'll just go out and kill a couple of elk. Just think of 

 it!' I kept on saying, 'Two elk in the yard, already 

 delivered > and no express charges ! Why, it'll be easer'n 

 falling off a log. ' 



"I put on my duds lively, took my carbine, one of the 

 old-timers, slipped some cartridges in my pocket, went 

 and shut the gate, and there I had 'em. ' Seotfy, old 

 boy,' I said to myself, still feeling good ,' you hold a 

 purty hand, three aces and a gun ! ' 



" 6f course, there was no use being sly about it, so I 

 just walked right out, and when I got to about sixty 

 yards, the elk buckin' up agin the fence and tryin' to git 

 over. I just pealed away and downed the cow right in 

 her tracks. 



" And there's where I made a mistake. The old bull 

 saw it, and came for me worse nor a runaway horse, and 

 tossin' his horns in a way I did not like. Quick as pos- 

 sible I put in another cartridge and blazed away. The 

 ball struck too far back, and 'stid o' gittin' him down, it 

 only made him madder. I couldn't load agin before he'd 

 be on to me, and so I skipped for the fence. But the old 

 fellow got there about the same time, and while I was 

 tackling the poles he gothis horns where there was a good 

 deal of purchase, and I went over backward like a flap- 

 jack, and landed 'bout ten foot behind the bull. Of course 

 I lost my gun , and got a gash a foot long in my arm — 

 there's the trail of it now," said he, rolling up his sleeve 

 and showing an ugly scar. 



"You'd better believe I got behind that haystack 

 mighty quick, the bull follerim, snortin' and tearin' up 

 the ground. He knowed it was a fight for life. He 

 knowed it well as I did, and he made it lively fur me. 

 Five or six times he made me hop 'round that haystack. 

 O! he meant business, and he trembled all over, he was 

 so mad. Finally he stopped to notice the cow, tier big 

 eyes glarim right up at him. Just then I made fur the 

 gun, and when I got it I never loaded a carbine so quick 

 in my life. It was like this: in-down-snap-cap-ready! 

 and blood all over everything, from that arm. 



"I was runnin' all the time, the bull after me, every 

 snort soundin' like he was cussin' mefurkillin' his mate. 

 Then I whirled, and excited as I was, I handed him one 

 right between the eyes. 



"If you believe me, that elk turned a perfect summer- 

 set, his hindlegs comin' within two inches of me as he 

 went overt 



"Well, that let me out, and I got to the cabin as quick 

 as I could, and tied up my arm, and fell over on the bed 

 the tiredest man you ever see. When the boys came in 

 at noon and saw my arm in a sling, and wanted to know 

 if there'd been any Injuns to see me, I up and pointed out 

 o' the winder, and told 'em it wasn't as easy to kill a 

 bull elk as you'd think, even when you've got 'em in a 

 corral, with the gate shut, and everything comfort- 

 able." 



And then half musing, he said: "I'll tell you, boys, 

 I've found out in the last forty years, that lots o' times 

 when you think you've got a snap makin' money, or git- 

 tin' married, and prospectin' generally, it may be one of 

 the most disappointing things you ever tackled." 



Jerome Burnett, 



THE ELK IN HARNESS. 



The elk, although naturally of a stubborn disposition, 

 can, if properly and carefully handled, be made per- 

 fectly tame and can also lie made to do light driving. 



The best time to capture these animals is when they 

 are young calves in May, when they are from two to four 

 weeks old. They can "then be easily reared on diluted 

 cow's milk. After the first six months they grow rapidly, 

 and I think become stronger than if they had run wild. 

 At from six to eight months they should be made to wear 

 a halter and be taught to lead , and from this on they 

 should be constantly handled until they are past year- 

 lings. At this age a light harness may be put on the 

 animal, and after it has become used to this it should be 

 hitched up with an old steady work horse. It should be 

 driven frequently in this way until it is past two years 

 old, when the amount of work can be increased until the 

 animal is from three to four years old, at which time it 

 is in its prime and ready with its mate to take a light 

 buckboard 100 miles "between suns." 



The hardest part of the work is halter breaking, which 

 takes three or lour days of hard patient work. I use a 

 hackamore and nose ring on the head, which serves well 

 to guide the animal. 



In rearing calves it must be remembered that the bulls 

 after they are yearlings are very dangerous to handle 

 during the latter part of September and October. 



My experience has not been so much with rearing 

 young calves as in capturing older elk out of large bands 

 on their prairie winter quarters. And as the method by 

 which this is done may be new to some of your readers I 

 will give an account of the best run we made. 



Two of the boys came in one night and told us that 

 during the day they bad seen and run into a band of 700 

 elk, mostly cows and spike bulls. They reported them as 

 quite tame. The next morning at sunrise five of us 

 caught up our "top" horses and started to find the band. 



We went about six miles before we struck their trail, 

 then followed it for a mile, and then changed horses. 

 About a mile further on we found the band feeding in a 

 gulch in the "bad lands" and about 250yds. distant from 

 us. They were quietly feeding and did not seem to be 

 in the least afraid of us. After a short consultation we 

 started toward them and got about 100yds. closer before 

 they "strung out" on that peculiar long trot for which 

 elk are so noted. 



The fun then began. To say it was exciting is to put 

 it mildly, for no one except a person who has experienced 

 such sport can understand the sensations experienced by 

 a man going along at full speed in a foot of snow, not 

 twenty feet from a band of nearly 1,000 elk, never think- 

 ing of any of the possible mishaps of the wild ride, but 

 just vainly trying to turn them from their course. At 

 first we endeavored to head the band for the ranch, but 

 this proved impracticable and at last we gave it up in 

 despair, and then each man got down his rope, and "took 

 after" a single elk. In a few minutes we had two two- 

 year-old cows and a yearling, and were at work "hog 

 tying" them. Just then one of the boys, who by mistake 

 had got his "twine" on an old bull, yelled out, "Boys he's 

 on the fight. For God's sake give me a hand;" but we 

 were all busy with those we had caught and could not go 

 to him, so he was forced to cut his rope and the old bull, 

 after giving a parting snort, joined the band and that 

 was the last we saw of them. 



Two of the men went back to the ranch, harnessed up 

 four horses to the sleigh and started back to haul in the 

 captives, and it was late at night when we got in with 

 the three cows, after one of the most exciting days I ever 

 experienced. One of the two-year-old cows that we cap- 

 tured has since died from an old bullet wound in the 

 neck. The other two are doing well. They eat hay, and 

 are particularly fond of oats. They drink four large 

 bucketfuls of water every day. My old pet elk Calamity, 

 that I caught two years ago, treated the newcomers with 

 the greatest disdain. She positively refused to stand or 

 eat near them. During the first three or four days after 

 their capture these elk were perfectly gentle, but after 

 that they became sullen, and if they got a chance would 

 strike, kick and bite. In such a case the person in charge 

 must at once conquer them, and often has to resort to 

 very harsh and even cruel means to do so. This point of 

 breaking their will is of the utmost importance. Should 

 an elk once find out that you are afraid of it, it becomes 

 worse than useless. 



My latest experience with elk raising, however, is as 

 follows: 



Last May I caught two bull calves. They were about 

 two weeks old, and exactly the proper age to commence 

 work on. For the first two or three days I kept them 

 tied up in the stable, and fed them every two hours on 

 milk and luke-warm water, making the solution very 

 weak — about one part milk to three of water. After three 

 days I turned them loose, and they showed no inclination 

 whatever to escape. In fact they became perfectly tame 

 and even affectionate, followed me and seemed to seek 

 my company at all times. When hungry they made the 

 fact known by vigorous bleating. I gradually strength- 

 ened their diet, until at the end of ten days from the date 

 of their capture I fed them pure milk, and from that time 

 on they improved rapidly. The milk treatment I dis- 

 pensed with when they began to graze, which was in 

 about two mouths. 



W hen about six weeks old I made a hackamore for 

 each of them, and began the work of breaking them to 

 lead. Being young and having been handled from the 

 first, the work was comparatively easy, and at the end 

 of the seventh week I could not only lead them, but could 

 walk behind and drive them nicely. I worked on them 

 in this way an hour or so every day that I was at home, 

 and noticed that they became more and more tractable. 

 When they were hungry, however, they were unmanage- 

 able, and manifested their repugnance to working on an 

 empty stomach by striking and kicking at every one 

 about. 



About the first part of September I harnessed them up 

 in turn with an old work and pack pony to the front 

 wheels of a light wagon. For several trials they balked 

 and showed in every way that they did not know what was 

 expected of them. The old horse would drag them along 

 until at last they would start off with a plunge. I was 

 entirely satisfied with the results of my labor and was 

 looking forward to having the "top" team of the country, 

 when one morning Jeff (one of the calves) was taken 

 sick. He seemed to have difficulty in swallowing. I 

 examined his throat and took out of it three bones about 



as large as the end of my thumb, which were lodged 

 there. This operation seemed to relieve him somewhat, 

 but in an hour or two he was worse again and finally be- 

 came so weak that he could not stand. Next morning 

 he was barely alive, so I had one of the boys put him out 

 of misery. To satisfy myself that the cause of his death 

 was an accident I cut him open and to my astonish men t 

 found in his stomach some meat and five or six bones. 

 He had evidently been eating the refuse elk meat lying 

 about, and I have never been able to account for his 

 unheard of appetite. If any of your readers have ever 

 known of elk eating meat I should he obliged for the in- 

 formation. 



I was nearly heart-broken at poor Jeffs death, but 

 shall of course try to supply his place next spring. His 

 loss was the harder to bear because last June my favorite 

 elk cow Calamity was killed by the vandai bullet of one 

 of Uncle Sam's highly-privileged red gentlemen. There 

 was no color of excuse for the shot. The poor thing was 

 dragging a fifty-foot rope at the time, and was wearing 

 a large cow bell. She was known for miles around as 

 my property. As her carcass and hide was untouched 

 it cannot be surmised that she was killed for food or 

 gain. "Pure cussedness" is the only explanation of this 

 and many another Indian outrage. 



The experience I have had with elk confirms me in the 

 opinion already expressed, that the animal is not only 

 susceptible of domestication, but can be made eminently 

 useful for light draft purposes. It would hardly pay to 

 breed them for sale in the market as a staple of food, 

 but the scheme of raising and training them for work 

 seems to me quite feasible. At all events I propose to 

 undertake it, and as I have a splendid hay ranch, and 

 can conveniently make a corral pasture, I am confident 

 of success. Charles M. Donnelly. 



Wyoming. 



OLD JOE. 



It is many a long day since I promised to write you 

 about Joe, the elk belonging to the PostPercheron Horse 

 Association. He is now four years old. He was pur- 

 chased when a few months old from a hunter who cap- 

 tured him in the Casper Mountains, Wyoming. He is 

 spending this winter at the home ranch. His most inti- 

 mate companion is a motherless colt. I have several 

 times noticed Joe taking his afternoon nap in a little 

 snow-drift in the southeast corner of one of the corrals, 

 while the horses and cattle would be getting all the 

 warmth they could on the opposite side. 



Last summer he had the run of the creek from the 

 home ranch to the Schwartz ranch, visiting as he took 

 the notion all the intermediate ranches, and stopping a 

 day or two at each. Occasionally he would go out into 

 some of the immense pastures, and joining a bunch of 

 cattle would at once show he was the controlling spirit. 

 The middle ranch was a favorite watering' place cf quite 

 a large bunch of cattle under the leadership of Joe. Late 

 in the forenoon they would come down to the creek to 

 drink and rest. When Joe had had enough of it and 

 ready to go back to the grazing grounds, he would stir 

 up the bunch; and if none were disposed to move, Joe 

 would down his head, giving them to understand that it 

 suited his convenience for them to go; and they invari- 

 able went. He always followed the bunch and kept the 

 stragglers well up. 



Wire fences four or five strands high are no impedi- 

 ment to his roving notions, he can change his pasture at 

 a bound. He is a great favorite, and will come at the 

 call of his name as quickly and willingly as a well broken 

 dog. He shows no displeasure at being handled, and 

 dearly loves to have his head scratched. 



He is continually picking up pieces of rope, getting 

 them tangled and twisted in his horns, and then asking 

 as plainly as in words for some one to take them off, and 

 standing quietly wlnle it is being done. An old gunny- 

 sack or a piece of blanket is a rich find for him. He will 

 take it on his horns, and trotting around, shake it among 

 the cattle, until tired of the fun, when he will drop it off 

 if he can, or if unable to do so he will whistle for some 

 one to come and help him. Once he got all tangled up in 

 an old horse power, and foimd out the best thing he 

 could do was to whistle for help and wait until it came. 

 He was fast horns and legs and had too much sense to_ 

 hurt himself by struggling to get free, and we lifted -him 

 out without hurting him, but he has given the old ma- 

 chine a wide berth ever since. 



He weighs now about 7001bs. and is as handsome and - 

 graceful as can be. The extreme points of his antlers 

 are 34in. apart. Millard. 

 Ariosa, Wyoming. 



AUSTIN CORBIN'S ELK. 



There is in the neighborhood of New York city a fine 

 band of elk, w T hich when we last saw them were in ex- 

 cellent condition, and give a capital notion of the elk in 



This band of elk, the property of Mr. Austin Corbin, 

 of this city, are at this gentleman's country place at 

 Babylon, L. I. Here these animals share with about 

 thirty deer and a few antelope a fine range of seventy 

 acres, part of it meadow, part woodland, and a part dense 

 underbrush. It would be hard to find a location more 

 admirably adapted to the elk than the one on Mr. Corbin's 

 farm , and judging from the condition of these elk they 

 are doing just as well as we should expect. The band 

 of eighteen elk includes two large bulls, two young ones, 

 and fourteen cows and heifers. They form' a beautiful 

 group, and are well worth traveling a hundred miles to 

 see. 



There seems good reason to believe that with care and 

 patience Mr. Corbin may in time have a fine herd of elk 

 on Long Island. The specimens he has there now came 

 from Montana and Dakota, and it is understood that he 

 purposes increasing his herd by further importations 

 from the West, as well as by the natural increase from 

 breeding. That the elk does well in captivity is shown 

 by the experience of Judge Caton, who m his park at 

 Ottawa, 111., bred them with success for many years. In 

 his excellent work on "The Antelope and Deer of Amer- 

 ica" he tells us that not far from one hundred were born 

 in Ms "rounds, and there is no reason for believing that 

 the conditions on Long Island are less favorable than 

 were those in Illinois. 



The progress of Mr. Corbin's experiments in domestic 

 eating a&d breeding the elk will be watched with wmk 

 interest, 



