Feb, 18, 1892.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



147 



stantly, now loud, as if approaching, now lower, till the 

 sound almost died away as the wind changed. It is a 

 Wild, dreary place; the Mexicans are half savage, and 

 perhap3 I was somewhat of a curiosity to Al. He "looked 

 very much interested as night came on, and I half ex- 

 pected him to refuse to go up to the jacal after dark; but, 

 no sir, he put on his "top coat," as he called his overcoat, 

 and we rode up, up toward the drum. Over the boulders, 

 through the scrub oak thickets, across the open thickets, 

 across the open glades, till at last we came to the jacal. 

 (A jacal. pronounced hackell, is a cabin built of poles. 

 First dig a trench 18in. deep the size you want the house, 

 with four deep holes at the corners; set in four logs with 

 a fork at the top for corner posts; four logs with a trench 

 cut on the under side from crotch to crotch ; a roof of 

 straight poles, then set poles on your trench with the 

 upper end shaped like a wedge to fit into the trench cut 

 in the frame; tamp your side poles in tight, put bark on 

 the roof, then mud, then dirt, kept in place by poles on 

 the edges of the roof; chink your walls, and'inside and 

 out daub mud mixed with straw cut up fine; make a stone 

 fireplace in one corner and get a few boards and make a 

 door: hang it on leather hinges cut from an old boot, and 

 you have a cheap, storm-proof cabin that one can put up 

 with an ax and a little time. I have built several, about 

 the same as Miguel tans his buckskins — by proxy.) 



We rode up and hitched, When we went in Inez was 

 sitting by the fireplace squatted flat on the ground all 

 alone. She did not look up. The fire was low but I could 

 see all around the room. She looked worn and black, 

 lean and ghastly by the light of the dying embers. We 

 squatted by the fire, and she commenced to talk. Beat- 

 ing the drum low just a tap, tap, tap, as she talked, she 

 told of a storm that would come on us when we went 

 down the country, and of lost things that would be found. 

 I translated to Al. Finally, after a long, vague talk she 

 stopped and a shudder passed over her frame; she seemed 

 to stiffen, and a voice from one dark corner said in thin, 

 childlike tones, in English, "You will find gold." 



We both jumped up and looked at the place that the 

 voice seemed to come f rom, There was nothing there. 

 I brightened tip the fire. Inez arose and passed silently 

 out into the night and vanished. Al remarked, "Well, 

 by Jove!" in a big, hearty voice, and loaded and lit his 

 pipe. That was all. So we went home, and did not see 

 Inez again for months. Al and I of course discussed our 

 seance and said it was ventriloquism; but that didn't 

 quite explain how she had found out our secret, nor how 

 the voice spoke in English when Inez had never been 

 known to say one word of any language but Navajo and 

 Mexican. 



When we got home New York was there, and we were 

 so full of the performance that we told him the whole 

 story of the gold and all— witch story included— and let 

 him into our company in full partnership, and talked the 

 matter over far into the night. Miguel came down from 

 his ranch half a mile up the creek, and said that Inez had 

 got in and seemed tired and hungry, but that she would 

 not talk; so I told him our story, and he promptly said 

 that he was sure an evil spirit had spoken, and that it 

 was awful to monkey with the unseen world, or words to 

 that effect; but he was as eager to go as the rest of us. 



We fixed up the outfit the next day and started at 

 noon— York on Al's wagon, Miguel on mine, Al and I on 

 horseback, my black greyhound prancing around us. 

 We drove into camp on the Vachecne Arroya about dark. 

 Lonny Horn, a stockman, who now lives in Trinidad and 

 is a rich banker, had a claim cabin at the water there, so 

 we camped indoors (jacal of course) and passed a very 

 comfortable night. Al had a violin and played every- 

 thing, from selections from operas to that time-worn 

 melody "The Unfortunate Dog." York told many an 

 Indian story of the Texas cattle trail from Texas to New 

 Mexico. Al told of English sports, and I told a few yarns 

 and translated some of the others to Miguel when he 

 could not get the drift of the story. Miguel can read and 

 write Spanish, is as smart as a trap, honest with his 

 friends, and in fact an awful nice little man. He can 

 partiallly understand English, but can't talk much. 

 So at last we slept — Al on a nice mattress alone, York 

 and I together on my buffalo robe, and Miguel rolled 

 himself in his serape or Mexican blanket and just lopped 

 over close to the fire. 



Miguel was up by daybreak and had breakfast ready 

 when I got up. The wind was howling and the first 

 Bnow of the season was sifting in through the cracks 

 around the door. We fed .the horses, got part of our load 

 in doors, and then sat down and played high-low- jack till 

 dinner, 



After dinner I went down the canon hunting on foot, 

 and did not see anything but a wolf and could not get a 

 shot at him. Al killed a mess.of rabbits with his 12-gauge 

 shotgun around camp among the rocks, and York baked 

 bread and roasted coffee. It stopped snowing toward 

 night, and the next morning we pulled out and by driv- 

 ing hard, for it was hard traveling in the melting snow, 

 made the log cabin at the Follis big spring in the West 

 Carisa canon. It is a beautiful location, about a mile 

 from Mac's old camp, which was at the Old Lenhart 

 Ranch. No one was in the West Carisa that winter, and 

 all wild animals were tame. The antelope had drifted in 

 from the big prairies on the east before the storm, and 

 would not run off more than 300yds. as we passed; tur- 

 keys, which we found roosting in the side canons that 

 ran up into the Mesa de Mayo, would not fly till after we 

 had tired half a dozen shots up into the tree; the black- 

 tail deer would run off 50yds. or so when disturbed, and 

 then turn and stare stupidly. The big wolves were per- 

 fectly insulting in their manners on the start. They 

 would stand on a little mouud and watch us as we rode 

 past, with a kind of an "I'd like you to come up here and 

 be eaten" expression on their countenances: but we soon 

 cured them. We commenced shooting at them when- 

 ever we saw them. After we had laid out a few and 

 wounded several more, they ran on suspicion. After we 

 had been in camp two days Al told me that he had only 

 half believed my game stories before, but now knew that 

 I had not exaggerated anything. 



The morning after we got into camp we concluded to 

 hunt for a few days, get a start of meat hung up, and 

 then after the snow was all gone find our gold mine, and 

 get a wagon load or so of nuggets for future reference. 

 York went out after the horses before breakfast and re- 

 ported them all gone toward home. I had. picketed my 

 saddle horse and fed a lot of oats to him, and so we had 

 something to go after them on. I started after them as 

 soon as I got breakfast and overtook them within 10 miles 



of my home ranch. I turned them around arid ran them 

 back as far as I could and corraled them at Thompson's 

 corral on the Chaquaw Caflon after dark. There is a 

 deserted house there; and I made a good fire and took a 

 chew of tobacco for supper. Passed a chilly night 

 wrapped up in a thin saddle blanket. 



At noon I started for camp, traveling as hard as I 

 could shove the horses. When my horse got tired I 

 roped Al's big sorrel, which I was satisfied had led the 

 others off, and turning my tired pony into the bunch, 

 made them fly for camp at a gallop. When I got to 

 camp no one was there but Nig, who was tied to the 

 doorknob. I corraled the horses and fed them corn, fed 

 my pet bay horse at the cabin door loose, freed Nig (he 

 jumped all over me), went in and got dinner and supper 

 for the day before and breakfast combined. I was very 

 tired, and felt weak from my long hard ride and the 

 f reezeout I had played the night before, so Nig and I 

 went to sleep on Al's mattress, and didn't wake up till 

 the boys came in just before sunset. 



Al was worn out carrying his cannon. The traveling 

 had been hard on foot. They reported two antelope 

 killed and thrown up on the roof of the Lenhart cabin, 

 and Miguel was carrying the hindleg of a nice little buck 

 deer that Al had slaughtered with the scatter gun. The 

 rest of the deer was hung up on a tree two or three miles 

 from camp. The boys were in high spirits. The snow 

 was almost gone, and they proposed to find the gold at 

 once next day. We picketed or hobbled all the horses 

 that night, and several more nights, till we thought they 

 would not run away; then we turned them loose again, 

 and all of them started for home and Al had to go after 

 them; but be got them in a few hours. 



There was wild talk in camp that night, and New York 

 decided to go to Africa and have a hunt after he got his 

 $100,000. Miguel was going to Chihuahua, his birth 

 place. Al declared that he was perfectly satisfied right 

 where he was. and wished he could buy the whole Carisa 

 county, Mesa de Mayo included, and live there forever. 

 I didn'c stop at $100,000: concluded that I would have a 

 steam yacht for one thing, and a house in New York, 

 with a cottage in Maine, one in Florida, and another in 

 the Adirondacks, and not live anywhere in particular. 

 Well, I haven't lived anywhere in particular ever since, 

 but I haven't got the houses. Of all the wild schemes I 

 ever heard in my life, I heard them in the succeeding 

 week. And how we prospected. We hunted out every 

 side canon and every main one for miles around. We 

 pounded rocks and looked at them with magnifying 

 glasses. We hunted on the top of the Mesas — all but one 

 lone butte that towered up on the prairie for 4,000ft. I 

 didn't go up there, for it would have been an awful 

 climb, but I have been always sorry I didn't, and I am 

 going up there next summer. 



There must be thirty or forty acres of level land on top 

 of that butte, and I do not believe there was ever a white 

 man on top of it. So there must be something up there 

 that I want to see. 



I found a coal vein. It's there yet, I reckon. Finally 

 in about two weeks I got tired and began hunting game, 

 and moralizing on the uncertainty of riches, and preach- 

 ing that with food, raiment, a horse and a Winchester 

 rifle one should be content, if his tobacco didn't run out. 

 Al agreed with me, but Miguel and York stuck to it. 

 Miguel found a small cave with two human skeletons in 

 it, but nothing of value. Finally one night Al came 

 home solemn and with big eyes. He had been hunting 

 about ten miles south of camp on horseback down the 

 canon. We saw that he had something to tell, but let 

 him alone till the spirit moved him. At last he said, 

 "Boys, I have found something, but I have not found 

 gold. I have found a stone house in a bank of dirt; I 

 cannot get to it; and it may contain the Aztec's buried 

 treasure. We will have to all go down there to-morrow 

 and open it with oak crow-bars. If we can't do that we 

 will blow it open with powder." (He had about 251bs. in 

 his old Noah*s Ark of an ammunition chest.) 



We had another big talk that night, and didn't get up 

 till late the next morning — I never do unless I am hungry 

 or have to from some very urgent reason. The others 

 were naturally early risers from choice. We made some 

 wooden crow-bars from green mountain oak. We went 

 down the broad valley about ten miles or more, and then 

 east to the hills, up a way, and came to a bank of earth 

 20 or 30ft. high. There, sure enough, was the edge of a 

 house sticking out about half-way up. It showed about 

 3 ft, of the side toward the top, and seemed 12 or 

 14ft. long. The stones had been laid in mud, I think, for 

 mortar. They were mostly as big as a man could lift, 

 We picked away at the cracks with an axe, and finally 

 managed to dislodge several stones. We peered into a 

 dark chamber about 12ft. square, and it smelled badly of 

 confined air and a variety of stenches. York got some 

 weeds and grass and we shoved in an armful and set it 

 afire. It burnt well, and we crawled in. Against the 

 back wall sat three skeletons. York took hold of one 

 and it crumbled to the touch. They must have been 

 very old. We dug in the floor and found some broken 

 pottery, like Pueblo pottery, and a few stone arrowheads. 

 York finally found a small piece of metal near the small- 

 est skeleton. It was shaped like mine — pear-shaped and 

 flatfish. It had a hole through the smallest end, show- 

 ing that it must be an ornament of some kind, probably a 

 neck ornament. I took mine out of my pocket and could 

 see that it must have been of the same character, it was 

 worn or broken to below the hole. We sat down on the 

 grass below our treasure cave and smoked awhile and 

 then drove back to camp. Al offered York $20 for the 

 charm and York promptly refused it. "I have ahorse, 

 saddle, blankets, six-shooter and gun. I don't need 

 money, and am going to keep this to remember the trip 

 by, and have it made into a breastpin," he said; and he 

 kept it, too. I gave mine to Al the next day, for at that 

 time 1 didn't care to remember that I had lost my yacht 

 and my Fifth avenue house. Now I don't care. 



We hunted about a week longer and got a few deer 

 and many antelope and turkeys, and then rolled out for 

 Pita Azul, well satisfied after all with our gold hunt. I 

 have not told you much about our hunting, but I cannot, 

 for my feelings still overpower me when I think how 1 

 lost my steam yacht — she was 100ft. long. 



W J. Dixon. 



Forest and Strbam comes to our desk this week much en- 

 larged and improved. This well-known journal has been the 

 standard of its class for many years, and no sportsman who gives 

 it a trial will ever do without it.— Qrrr,ley tCr>} i Svn. 



THE EUROPEAN BISON.— III. 



BY R. WAXiDECK. 



[Continued from Page 123.1 



r I^HE writer of this article has received a description of 

 _I_ the capture of living bison from the Forester, Dimitri 

 Dolrnatoff , who is in the Imperial service at the forest 

 Bialowitza. The Emperor of Russia having promised to 

 Queen Victoria, of England, two living bison for the Zo- 

 tilogical Gardens in London, Dimitri Dolmatoff received 

 the Imperial order to capture two young ones, since, 

 of course, old ones would be hard to secure and 

 would never grow tame enough to bear transportation and 

 live in captivity. 



Dimitri Dolmatoff therefore collected eighty peasants 

 and drivers and started with this force at daybreak on 

 July 20. The guns of the hunters were charged only 

 with powder. They were first obliged to look for the 

 tracks a troop of bison had left where they had spent 

 the previous night. These having been found, they fol- 

 lowed them step by step, with the utmost caution and in 

 perfect silence. As they approached a little valley. 

 Dimitri Dolmatoff and his companion, Count Kisseleff , 

 who had brought the Imperial order, saw a large troop of 

 bison at rest in the valley near a little brook. The young 

 ones were jumping playfully about, throwing the sand 

 high up with their feet, now running back to their 

 mothers for some milk and again running away to play, 

 At a signal given by Dimitri Dolmatoff the trumpets were 

 sounded , and at the first blast a change came over the 

 peaceful scene in the valley. The troop of bison at once 

 prepared to fight. The calves were collected in the middle, 

 the cows next to them and the bulls formed the outer 

 circle and watched for the approach of their enemies. In 

 the meantime the dogs of the hunters had been loosed and 

 rushed upon the herd. The boldest of them approached too 

 near, and in a moment were thrown into the air like balls, 

 their sides ripped open by the horns of the bison bulls. The 

 troop retreating soon approached the line of drivers, who 

 received them with yells and with blank shots, but the 

 herd of bison could not be stopped, and broke through 

 the drivers who hid themselves behind the bushes. 

 In the forced rush of the bison two calves had been left 

 behind, one about three months old, was pretty easily 

 caught; the other one about fifteen months of age, over- 

 turned eight men and escaped, but pursued by the dogs 

 it was driven into the garden of a forester, where it was 

 a second time captured. The same day, later on, four 

 calves — three female and one male— were caught. One 

 of the female calves was only a few days old. It was at 

 once brought to a cow of brown color, which was very 

 much like that of a bison cow. This cow accepted the 

 little one, which sucked at once, but six days later it 

 died of an abscess which formed on its neck. The abscess 

 was noticed on the day when it was caught. For the 

 first day of their captivity the rest of the calves refused 

 to take any food, but on the second day the youngest of 

 them, which was three months old, began to suck the 

 cow which was brought to it. The remainder at length 

 took fresh milk from the hand of a man, and later they 

 eagerly drank from a pail. After a short time they had 

 lost their wild look, becoming quite tame, and were 

 very playful. While they were running around in the 

 yard everybody took pleasure in watching their quick 

 and active motions. They jumped with the quickness of 

 a goat and liked to play with the calves of domestic 

 cows. When playfully fighting with these, although 

 they were much the stronger, they allowed the tame 

 calves to overcome them. 



The young bull fifteen months of age was much harder 

 to tame, and for a time was quite savage, threatening 

 with his horns any one who tried to approach him. After 

 about two months, however, he began to lose his wild 

 look and to show some recognition and affection for the 

 man who attended him. It was observed by every one 

 who saw this bison that he liked to paw with his feet, 

 throwing the dirt high up in the air, and to rear like a 

 horse. As soon as these calves were let out of the stable 

 they at once began to play, lifting their heads, snorting 

 and jumping gayly about. They were constantly trying 

 to break through the fences which inclosed them, and 

 looked wistfully to the woods near by. When they were 

 driven in their stables they went in sadly with bowed 

 head?. Tbey soon became warmly attached to their at- 

 tendant and looked after him when he left and showed 

 their pleasure when he returned. They listened for his 

 voice, licked his hand, and rubbed themselves against 

 him. 



The young prisoners were brought to two different places 

 and seemed to do well. The two oldest bulls were fed 

 hay, leaves or bark of the ash tree, oats and different herbs 

 gathered in the forest and seemed to enjoy their food, 

 which agreed with them. They also licked salt and seemed 

 greatly to enjoy this. The younger calves which drank 

 milk out of pails, were unfavorably affected for a time 

 by their change of diet, probably because the milk, which 

 was brought from some distance* was not always fresh 

 enough. As soon as they received milk fresh from 

 the cow they regained their health. The two older cap- 

 tives drank fresh water several times each day, but 

 the younger ones would not take this unless it was 

 mixed with milk. The captives grew very fast, for the 

 abundant food, the stabling which protected them from 

 the cold in winter, and in summer from the heat and the 

 stings of the gnats, had a very good effect on them. 

 When these calves were hungry or thirsty they let it be 

 known by grunting much as pigs do, a sound quite sim- 

 ilar to that made by the American buffalo. After they 

 had been kept some time at the village of Bialowitza, these 

 half tamed bison were transported to C4rodno a distance 

 of 60 miles. The two bulls which were destined for St. 

 Petersburg were confined in a large cage which was cov- 

 ered with straw. The cage was large enough to admit 

 of their lying down. On the first day of their journey 

 they were frightened, and would not take any food, but 

 by the second day they had become accustomed to the 

 motion and behaved as usual, taking their food and lying 

 down to rest. The pair destined for London were also in 

 a cage just like the other, but the cow and the bull were 

 separated. When they reached Grodno, the four were 

 taken to a stable, but each ope was put in a separate 

 box-stall built of planks. This second change of stables 

 enraged them so much that they became unruly, anc] 



