S98 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



(.Nov. 10, 1893. 



A TRIP TO WYOMING. 



The town of Gardiner, built on the northern confines 

 of tbe Yellowstone Park, is a typical frontier settlement. 

 The Park line is said to run through the middle of the 

 single street. South of this the mountains rise from a 

 narrow belt of plain, bordered on the east by Gardiner's 

 River. North of this line a few frame or log buildings 

 stand on a lofty bluff some 300yds. from the Yellowstone 

 River. The intervening space is occupied by an assort- 

 ment of empty cans, old hats, broken stoves and cats 

 who are, perhaps, enjoying a tenth existence, but who 

 have certainly lost grasp of their nine earthly lives. 



These acres', generously provided with material for a 

 widespread pest, are purified by the clear air and seem 

 to be no source of anxiety to the natives. Indeed, when 

 I called the attention of my courteous host to a smell 

 which indicated an open drain, at least, he, being fur- 

 nished with a sense of humor, told me that that was im- 

 possible, because there wasn't a drain in the place. 



From Gardiner we packed south through the Park, It 

 will not be wise to give here those details which are set 

 down in the excellent guide books which one can buy. 

 We had an advantage in starting after the tourist had 

 finished and being, for the time, in sole possession of 

 our route of travel. We camped in full sight of Old 

 Faithful, who tossed up sheets of shimmering silver for 

 us by sunset and moonlight, and sunrise, and other kinds 

 of illumination. We looked at leisure into the boiling 

 blue of the crater of the Excelsior Geyser and rode at 

 ease, except for the freaks of the pack train, along the 

 beautifully tinted beach of Shoshone Lake. 



And here I make a contribution to the literature of 

 beaver sticks. The beach at Shoshone Lake is composed 

 of pebbles of volcanic origin of dim blue and pink and 

 maroon shades of color, and these pebbles stretch out 

 from the shore under water for a considerable distance. 

 Behind the beach at one spot there is a little slough or 

 pond with a still inhabited beaver house at one end of it, 

 and a plain fresh drag trail from the slough, through 

 the wiUows and across the beach. 



Now -white wands recently peeled by beavers lay off 

 shore a little distance in the lake, some few of them float- 

 ing and others resting on the pebbly bottom. 



It will be seen that these latter could not have been held 

 in place by being imbedded in mud or other adherent 

 matter, for the bottom, as I have said, was of pebbles. 

 Moreover, the sticks were freshly stripped, and the fact 

 that some few were floating on the surface goes to show 

 that they were not waterlogged. Now what held down 

 those sunken sticks? 



Through the Park we traveled by wagon roads and 

 beaten traUs and saw no game, not even a porcupine; but 

 on the edge of the timber reserve we caught some trout, 

 and our biU of fare took on an air of more varied lux- 

 ury. 



We had a simple but effective outfit. A lodge and a 

 large wall tent, two excellent men, ten ponies, my com- 

 panion the doctor and myself. One article of furniture 

 I had never before seen carried with packs, that was a 

 sheet iron stove. It was about a foot wide, nine inches 

 high and two feet and a half long. It had a door in one 

 end, a stove hole and a place for a pipe on top, and it had 

 no bottom. You cleaned off a space of ground, set down 

 the stove and heaped a little dirt around the edges. Then 

 you had an opportunity for some cooking and a great 

 deal of grateful warmth. To pack this article you turned 

 it over, put in it the stove pipe, in a telescoped condition, 

 also the bake oven, the hobbles and ropes and other loose 

 thifigs, enough to fill it up; then it was corded up in a 

 canvas and had the excellent virtue of exactly balancing 

 my bed on the other side of the horse. 



We followed down the Snake River and came out of 

 the timber reserve near Jackson's Lake. For some time 

 we had been able to catch glimpses of the point of a thin 

 blue cone over the ridges that bounded our view. Here 

 we came in full sight of the Grand Teton, to which the 

 cone belonged, as well as the rest of the Tetons, includiu] 

 Mount Moran. This broken range rose on the west an( 

 south of Jackson's Lake with Alpine grandeur, strongly 

 resembling the northern spurs of the Rockies in the chief 

 mountain district. Mount Moran, probably because it 

 was nearest to us, seemed the most impressive. It pur- 

 ported to have no secrets and did not hide away its ice 

 fields in dark recesses, but carried them like breast plates 

 on its broad, scarred front. 



There is said to be an account exsant of the ascent of 

 the Grand Teton by an early explorer; but cautious 

 rumors say that the ascent has never been made other 

 wise than in fancy. 



The explorer's imagination in that case rose to a credit- 

 able height, and an object in life is still left to some 

 climber who has conquered all the world beside. 



From Jackson's Lake we came to a neighborhood much 

 frequented by elk. The mountains were rather low, and 

 the ascents easy. There were long, grassy openings in 

 the evergreen woods that clothed the greater part of the 

 mountain sides, and here and there were aspen groves 

 and patches of willowy marsh. On favorable nights we 

 could hear the bulls bugling their long flute-like whistle 

 with the hoarse roar that follows. Often several old 

 fellows would be holding concert at the same time. 

 Sometimes, even, the bulls proclaimed their challenge 

 during hunting hours, and helped us greatly. But to one 

 earnestly desiring meat or trophies I address this word of 

 wisdom: "Walk!" You will be told that you can ride all 

 over the country, which is practically true; that elk take 

 an interest in horses and come near a rider to study the 

 mount, and other statements of this kind. It will save a 

 great amount of labor to ride to the vicinity where you 

 hope to find your game. Then get off and use all the 

 learning at your command about the direction of the 

 ynnA and noiseless methods of approach, for, if game be 

 scarce and shy, you can get it in no other way, as a usual 

 thing. 



Fortunately in our case game was neither scarce nor 

 shy. On some days you would see nothing but a few 

 porcupines, more or less. At other times one or the other 

 of us would see as many as 20 or 30 elk in an afternoon 

 and very likely get a shot at one of them. 



I myself wore a mascot in the shape of a cartridge belt 



with a bear's head engraved on the buckle. This was 

 found by our packer, George Gray (his true name was 

 Arthur Henry, but no one, except perhaps his sponsors 

 in baptism, called him that), at an old camp, and I put it 

 on because a great hunter among my friends wears one 

 like it. The first day it brought me a spike bull, and I 

 astonished the company by bringing the meat home 

 myself. For it appears to be the custom even among the 

 adventurous Britons who frequent the region to have a 

 guide always at their elbows to insure against losing 

 their bearings, and always to " leave their dead for the 

 guide to cut up and pack in the next day. 



The mountain where I killed this bull is called Gravel 

 Peak, and its summit and northern exposure lie in the 

 timber reserve. The peak is composed of pebbles of 

 volcanic origin like those on the beach at Shoshone Lake, 

 but bound together by a hard cement so as to make an 

 enduring rock. On a peak of similar formation a little 

 further east, I found quite a lot of silicitied wood and 

 brought down with me a large piece to confound all 

 doubters. 



We next moved camp to a small lake higher in hills. 

 On the way thither the Doctor and I road ahead, spied 

 some elk afar off and had the luck to successfully stalk a 

 reasonably presentable bull. Another surprise was in 

 store for our men, for we not only found the way to the 

 new camp unaided, but brought in the bull's head with 

 its accompanying pelt packed on one of the horses. 



This we were told was quite unexpected in dudes; for 

 it must be understood that all persons not native to the 

 land are dudes in this region. Even the most battered old 

 campaigner seems to have taken a plunge into the foun- 

 tain of youth and fashion when he strikes the limits of 

 the Park. 



An exception may perhaps be made in favor of Mr. 

 Roosevelt, who appears to have the faculty of awakening 

 the deep regard and admiration of the mountaineers, but 

 the rest of the world are dudes without escape. 



At the little lake we stayed for some days with only 

 one noticeable excursion. 



It v^as storming snowballs, that is small round hard 

 pellets of snow which could be classed neither with flakes 

 nor hail, nor sleet. Now and then the storm would lull 

 a little and a faint bellowing came down the wind. 



Billy (whose real name is Thomas Elwood) said that 

 the noise indicated that there was an elk within a mile of 

 The estimate did little credit to Billy's ear for music, 

 but it was my day for a walk anyhow so I set out up the 

 mountain. 



The storm kept up and the intervals of silence on the 

 bull's part became longer until I thought that my in- 

 tended victim had left the country, but at last my courage 

 was revived when I had almost reached the crest by 

 again hearing the well-known note. 



Peering over the top of a ridge I saw on an adjoining 

 knoll, some three or four hundred yards away, a famous 

 sight, A herd of about thirty cows were held there by 

 five or six bulls. The latter wandered through the band 

 lowing or harshly bawling in noisy challenge, like 

 domestic cattle excited by a storm. The cows that 

 showed a tendency to stray were promptly followed and 

 prodded back by some watchful male, and once two old 

 fellows, after an infinite amount of fuss, lowered their 

 heads and charged together with a crash. For a moment 

 they swayed, pushing against each other; then one of the 

 combatants jumped lightly aside and the victor resumed 

 his pompous patrol. 



The bulls seemed to have several notes, but the usual 

 voice was a strident, reedy whistle followed by a kind of 

 barking bellow. I did not notice any clear flute notes, 

 and thought that perhaps the latter might be an effect of 

 distance, rendering the strident quality of the whistle 

 inaudible. 



For about a quarter of an hour I sat watching the show, 

 until I began to grow uncomfortably cold, then came the 

 question of getting a shot. 



The distance was too great to select any single animal 

 in the shifty crowd with a reasonable chance of hitting 

 it, and I wanted no cows nor did I want to cripple any 

 animals uselessly. Silently backing down into the gulch, 

 I followed behind a fringe of trees, and when I again 

 came in sight of the elk I found that they had come part 

 way to meet me. The cows were lying down and a small 

 bull stood a hundred yards away. Soon a big fellow took 

 the place of the smaller bull, and I took quick aim and 

 dropped him. 



The rest of the band plunged down into some desper- 

 ate country on the other side of the summit, and although 

 two or three vainglorious males waltzed around showily 

 in the rear I was too much shaken by the cUmb and the 

 cold to take a decent running shot. So I took off the 

 head and pelt according to the rules of art, and got back 

 to camp well content, while the storm held on with in- 

 creasing vigor. 



Nothing of great interest occurred after that during 

 our stay. 



Once I heard the shrill squeak and saw the stumpy lit- 

 tle body of a chief hare among the slide rock, but though 

 we changed camp we got no more good heads. A par- 

 tial thaw had taken place, and the crumbling of the 

 crusted snow made stalking diflicult. 



My companion, I forgot to say, had already secured his 

 maiden antlers, and I got one bull calf to replenish our 

 failing larder, beside buying a bear skin from some trap- 

 pers near by. 



Then we dropped down the Snake River, riding through 

 lovely weather, the air crisp yet vibrating with the rays 

 of the clear autumn sun. 



We crossed the Teton Pass, getting views of those im- 

 pressive mountains from every side. We found a genial, 

 accommodating Mormon, who took our baggage in bis 

 wagon and drove us in two days to the railroad, where 

 we again entered the great and usual world. 



H. G. DULOG. 



Dry Covers in Pennsylvania. 



TowANDA, Pa., Nov. 5.— The season for quail and rab- 

 bits opened in this State on Nov. 1, A number of our 

 prominent sportsmen tried their luck afield, but found 

 quail very scarce and hunting difficult for dogs, owing to 

 a very dry autumn. Snider, Brown and others made a 

 bag of two grouse and one woodcock; Laplant, shooting 

 alone, killed one woodcock, one grouse, one quail and one 

 rabbit; Graves, alone, three woodcock: Turner, Dpcker 

 Montanye and Dittrich together bagged seveT' qniil. 



W, D. PiTTElCH. 



MOOSE HUNTING IN NOVA SCOTIA. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



My last moose hunting trip to Nova Scotia, I am sorry 

 to say, was not as successful as I hoped. I chose a rather 

 out of the way place as a starting point, as heretofore I 

 have found too manv parties of hunters going in by way 

 of the more accessible points. 



Almost the first thing we saw after landing in the 

 Province was the head of a large bull which was claimed 

 to have been killed the day before. 



Our hunting grounds were on the headwaters of the 

 Shelburne River, and we were to meet our men with ox 

 team and provisions at Indian Fields. We had a drive of 

 ninety-five miles, taking nearly two days. We found 

 our men waiting for us, and loading our things on the ox 

 team went some five miles back across the barrens to 

 where we made our main camp. We kept our camp here 

 for a week, going out every afternoon and staying out all 

 night on the grounds, where we were to call the next 

 morning. We had four unusually good mornings for 

 calling. On the first my companion heard a bull, but he 

 wouldn't come. That was the only indication of moose 

 during the week. I saw quite a large bear on a barren 

 one afternoon, but failed to get a shot. 



We then decided to move our camp, and went some 

 nine miles further and called morning after morning 

 with no success; in fact there did not seem to be a moose 

 in the whole region. One night it rained quite hard and 

 we stayed in camp. Toward morning it cleared, but was 

 quite windy. My companion woke up about daylight 

 and thovight of going out a short distance bacts: of the 

 camp to call. His man was willing to go, but said there 

 was hardly any chance, so it was given up. After break- 

 fast we were sitting by the fire, when my man, who had 

 gone some lOOyds. back of the camp, came in saying 

 there was a moose in some birches back of the camp. 

 We took our rifles and crept out, but it was too late. It 

 seems that the moose was traveling across the barren 

 and came within 2o0yds. of the camp and turned and 

 ran back; and my man heard him when he went through 

 the bushes. From the size of the track and the noise his 

 horns made we thought it was a large bull. In the after- 

 noon we started out each with his caller, going in a dif- 

 ferent direction. That night I heard two moose and 

 tried calling them in the morning. My callpr, who was 

 on top of a ridge, saw them both at quite a distance 

 away. They walked slowly into a thick e^jruce swamp 

 and after waiting about an hour we decided they had 

 lain down. My man proposed that we should try to still- 

 hunt, I said, "We will go to camp and get my compan- 

 ion and bring him over here this afternoon and perhaps 

 he may get a shot in the morning, as the moose are 

 likely to stay here if left undisturbed." So we went to 

 camp and found my friend rather blue. He had tried 

 calling the night before just at sunset, and a moose had 

 come when it was too dark to see him. within 60yds. of 

 them and had got scent and gone off. I told him to 

 "brace up," we had two waiting for some one to kill 

 them. 



Back we went that afternoon and at night heard the 

 moose again. At daybreak we placed my companion 

 where we thought the moose would come out, I went 

 some distance away on the other side of the ridge and 

 sent the caller to the high ground to call. I stayed in 

 my place for more than an hour without hearing any- 

 thing. I noticed the caller was not calling, and looking 

 up to him he made signs that he had soen the moose. I 

 left my place and worked quietly toward where we had 

 left my companion, intending to get within some 300 or 

 400yds. of him. Suddenly I heard the moose moving in 

 the swamp directly opposite me ; I crept in at once to- 

 ward them and got a glimpse of one, I saw they were 

 walking along just in the edge of the swamp, and I 

 backed out from where I was and ran some ISOyds. to 

 get in ahead of them. I crept toward the edge of swamp 

 again and got there just as the moose came along. I 

 killed one almost in its tracks and wounded the other. 

 The wounded moose went off through the swamp and 

 we did not follow him, I did not get a chance to shoot 

 him where I wanted to, as there was a large rock be- 

 tween us and I had to stand on my toes to see over it, 

 and had to shoot him high in the shoulders. In fact, I 

 ought not to have tried to kill both, one was enough and 

 gave us all the work we wanted to get it out. It st ems 

 both of the moose came within about 60yds. of where my 

 companion was posted and stayed for nearly an hour in 

 the swamp directly opposite him. He didn't know what 

 to do; he could hear them moving about and see the 

 tops of the birches and small trees sway about as the 

 moose brushed against them; but he never got a glimpse 

 of them, as the growth where they were was very thick. 

 He kept thinking they would show up on the edge of the 

 thicket and was afraid he would start them if he tried 

 to get nearer. Finally, they walked slowly in my direc- 

 tion. . 



My time being up, I had to start out. I had arranged 

 to be in the woods two weeks, and the morning I killed 

 the moose was my last, whether I killed any game or 

 not. My friend stayed a week longer, but did not get a 

 shot. 



My companion on this trip was a gentleman from the 

 West, who had hunted and killed a good many deer. He 

 had never hunted moose, and wanted very much to kill 

 one. He certainly deserved to get at least one. He 

 worked hard, and had traveled a long distance, but luck 

 seemed dead against him. 



Altogether it was the poorest hunting I have ever had 

 in Nova Scotia, Heretofore I have always heard a good 

 many moose and seen plenty of fresh signs. I rather 

 blamed myself for choosing such a place in preference to 

 the region I hunted last year; but on my way home I met 

 one of a party who had been hunting on the grounds I 

 was on last year, and he said the woods were full of hunt- 

 ing parties; only two moose had been killed, and his 

 party had not seen one, had heard one answer their call, 

 but he did not come. I heard from another section, 

 where I hunted on two previous trips, that but one moose 

 had been killed there, and one of the best native hunters 

 had spent three weeks without getting a shot, it being 

 the first time in five years that he had come out without 

 killing one or more moose. It certainly seems as though 

 it was an off year in the Province for moose. 



The grounds I hunted on my previous trips were not 

 very far from where we were this year; a day's tramp 

 from our last camp would have taken us to either of the 

 places. An acquaintance of mine hunted the last two 



