28£ 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Oct. g, 1894. 
BEARS IN THE YELLOWSTONE PARK. 
We extract the following from a private letter written 
by a gentleman recently returned from the Park: 
When we reached the Lake Hotel the clerk at the desk 
asked us if we wished to see a bear, as he could show us 
one after we had finished dinner. We went with him to a 
spot some two hundred feet back of the hotel, where was 
deposited the swill and refuse. It was then a little 
after sunset. We waited some moments, when the 
clerk, taking his watch out of his pocket, said, "It is 
strange he has not come down; he is now a little over 
due." Before he had replaced his watch, he exclaimed 
"Here he comes now," and we saw descending slowly 
from a bill close by a very large black bear. The bear 
continued to approach us, when I said to the clerk, "Had 
we better not get behind the timber; he will be fright- 
ened off should he see us?" He answered "No, he will not 
be frightened in the least," and continued to converse with 
us in a loud voice. We were then standing in the open 
close by the swill heap, and the bear continued coming 
toward us, tlnere being no timber intervening. We 
did not move, liut continued talking. The bear came 
up to us wiw*ut hesitation, diverging slightly from 
his direct route to the swill heap so as to approach 
nearer to us. He surveyed us leisurely with his nose in 
the air, got our scent, and seeming content that we 
were only harmless human beings, turned slowly 
away and went to the swill heap, where he proceeded to 
make a meal. We watched him for quite a while, 
when a large wagon passing along the road nigh to where 
we stood, the bear stopped feeding and went toward the 
hotel, in the direction in which the wagon was traveling. 
Our guide exclaimed, "He has gone to visit the pig sty," 
and in a little while we were satisfied this was so by hear- 
ing a loud outcry of "bar," "bar," which we afterward 
found proceeded from a Chinaman, one of whose special 
duties it was to keep bears out of the pig sty. 
After the departure of the black bear, we retraced our 
steps, but before getting to the hotel I suggested to my 
friend Dell that if we returned to the refuse pile we might 
see another bear. We accordingly went back on the trail 
to within a few yards of where we stood before. When 
we stopped we heard, in the timber near by, a great noise 
as if dead pine branches were being smashed, and there 
emerged into the open a large grizzly. Although he was 
not quite so familiar as the black bear, he showed no 
hesitation but walked straight toward us and the object 
of his visit — the swill. Before reaching his destination, 
however, he stopped and squatted down on his haunches, 
calmly surveying the scene before him. The reason why 
he stopped became at once apparent. From the same 
hill down which the black bear had come we saw another 
grizzly, larger than the first, moving toward us at a rapid 
gait, in fact, on a lope, while the first grizzly regarded 
him with a look not altogether friendly or cordial. The 
Becond bear did not stop an instant until he reached the 
swill heap, where he proceeded to devour everything in 
sight without any regard to us or to his fellow squatted 
near by. The latter apparently had had some experience 
on a former occasion which he was not desirous of repeat- 
ing. 
Three men coming through the timber toward us, made 
a considerable racket, and the two bears moved off at no 
rapid gait in opposite directions. Until I left the spot I 
could see one of them on the edge of the timber, looking 
toward us, and no doubt, waiting for more quiet before 
partaking of the delights before him. When the three 
men joined us and were talking about the late departed, 
one of them shouted, "Here come two more," and 
before we could realize it we saw two good-sized cinna- 
mons at the feast. They paid no attention whatever to 
us, but were entirely absorbed in finishing up what the 
other bears had left. By this time it was fast becoming 
dark and we returned to the hotel. I should have said 
that we measured the distance from the nearest point 
from the black bear to where we Btood, and found 
it to be exactly twenty-one feet. The other bears were 
but a few yards further from us. 
The squirrels, of which there were quite a number, were 
most diverting. Their presence alone added a playful 
element to a scene made solemn by twilight and the huge 
animals passing to and fro. We could tell when a bear 
was appi-oaching by the chattering of bunny. He would 
run along the ground toward the bear with tail defiantly 
uplifted, jerking his head from side to side and scolding 
incessantly. I believe his anger was increased because 
the bear took no notice of him and yet he never allowed 
his animosity to lead him far from a place of security 
which he sought whenever his great enemy moved 
toward him. Doubtless his hatred was due to the remem- 
brance of many careful hoards of pinon nuts, laboriously 
shelled and stored away for winter use and ruthlessly 
devoured by the huge and ugly beast. 
When we entered the hotel we entertained our friends 
with an account of what we had seen, and had there not 
been three eye witnesses, we probably would have been 
entirely disbelieved. As we were giving our account, a 
man came into the room and said ' 'If you want some fun 
come outside; we have got a bear up a tree." We went 
outside of the hotel and not over forty feet from it found 
a black bear in a pine tree. It seems, the wagon I 
have mentioned, had been Btopped at the pine tree, and 
left there after the horses had been taken out. The 
owner, returning to his wagon found the bear in it, and 
this was the explanation why the bear had so suddenly 
taken to the tree. 
The animal was considerably smaller than the one we 
had seen earlier; in fact it was not more than half as 
large, but still full grown. Quite a number of packers 
and teamsters stood about, amusing themselves by mak- 
ing the bear climb higher, till at last one of them asked 
our driver, Jim McMasters, why he did not climb the tree 
and shake the bear out. It was quite dark and McMas- 
ters, replied that he would not mind doing so if there 
were enough daylight for him to see. His companions 
continuing to banter him, he finally said "I believe I'll go 
up anyhow," and up he went, climbing, however — 
instead of the tree the bear had ascended — a companion 
tree which grew alongside of the other, the two not being 
more than a foot or so apart and the branches interlaced. 
We soon lost sight of McMasters and of the bear also for 
as Jim climbed the bear would climb too, until at last 
they both reached the top of their respective perches; 
when we heard Jim cry out, "Boys, he's got to come down; 
I can reach him." With that he proceeded to break off a 
small branch of his tree and we could hear him whack 
the bear with it and also could hear the bear remonstrating 
with a very unpleasant voice, at times approaching a 
roar. But at last the bear seemed to have made up his 
mind that it was better to come down than stay up and 
be whacked with a pine branch, so down he came, but 
not with any great rapidity, stopping at every resting 
place until Jim came down too and gave him a little per- 
suading. 
We could now see the action, but its dangerous features 
were lost sight of in its amusing ones. Jim had climbed 
on the tree down which the bear was descending, and 
when he was not persuading the bear he was pleading 
with us, somewhat as follows: "Now, boys, don't throw 
up here, and don't none of you hit him until he gets 
down. If he should make up his mind to come up again 
he'd clean me out, sure." After each speech of this sort 
he would move down to where the bear was and apply 
his branch, whereupon both the man and the animal 
would come down a few pegs lower. At last the bear 
was almost at the ground. We all formed a circle 
around the tree prepared to give both man and beast a 
reception when they should alight. The beast came first, 
and every fellow who had anything in the way of wood in 
his hand gave the bear admonishing blows that he might 
not return to the wagon again. Bruin did not stop to make 
us any promises at the time, but made off into the timber 
with great precipitancy. Jim, when he got down, did 
not seem to think that he had done anything more than 
if the bear had been a possum, which he had shaken out 
of the tree. And so ended our bear symposium of that 
evening, an experience one would fail to meet with 
even if he stopped at the best appointed hotel at Saratoga 
or other fashionable resort. Jim told me— and after 
what I had seen him do I did not doubt his word — that 
he had met this spring thirteen bears near the hotel at 
the canon at one time. 
A TRIP TO THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 
Hot Springs, S. D., Sept. 30. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: I have just returned from the Big Horn Moun- 
tains, where I had two weeks' trout fishing in the South 
and Middle Forks of Little Goose Creek. 
The ride by rail on the Burlington route from Hot 
Springs to Sheridan, Wyo., is made in twelve hours. The 
Sheridan Inn is opposite the station, and is owned by Col. 
Cody, known to fame as "Buffalo Bill." In its magnifi- 
cent surroundings Sheridan reminds one of Denver. The 
Big Horn Mountains on the south and east are within 
fifteen miles of the town, and from the foot of the moun- 
tains to the town is a valley with small ridges, between 
which are the Big Goose, Little Goose, South Goose, 
Prairie Dog and other streams of water that run into the 
Big Horn River. 
Our fishing and hunting party started from the Sheri- 
dan Inn at 10 A. M. with two wagons, single teams, and 
eight riding horses. We drove up the Little Goose near 
to the foot of the mountains and camped for the night on 
the ranch of the Wallup Brothers, a pair of fine young 
Englishmen, who had almost finished the harvesting 
work, and were prepared for a month's hunt on the Big- 
horn Mountains and in the Big Horn Basin. Their ranch 
is in fact a plantation, having fields of fifty acres or more 
all under irrigation. The alfalfa grass is mowed four 
times, yielding two to two and one-half tons of hay per 
acre each mowing; wheat yields thirty-five bushels, oats 
sixty. The crops are fed to cattle and horses. Timothy 
and herds grass do well, as does clover. For cattle alfalfa 
is preferred, and for hogs the growing alfalfa; it is better 
than clover. This ranch is as charming to the eye as the 
best blue grass farm of Kentucky. 
The second day we made the top of the first range of 
the Big Horn Mountains, 6,700ft. above the sea, and went 
into camp about sundown, on the banks of Tepee Creek 
that empties into Little Goose Creek. The pitching of the 
tents and the making fire for supper was done in a jiffy. 
Two parties with shotguns went out for grouse, and re- 
turned in an hour. One party brought in three, and the 
other, the lone hunter, with his dog, bagged seven brace. 
The grouse feed and fatten on the Oregon grape, choke 
cherry and sarvis berry, with now and then a grasshop- 
per. The feeding is in the early morning and in the 
evening on the sides of the mountains and on the banks 
of the creeks. After the sun is well up, they return to 
the rocks near the summit,, bask in the sun and wallow 
in the dust. They roost near the summits. The flesh of the 
mountain grouse is delightful, being free from all weedy 
taste, and infinitely better than the grouse of the low- 
lands. Our cook spoiled the first lot by par-boiling, under 
the supposition that these grouse were something like 
the sage hens, that require par-boiling and washing out 
in soda. We subsequently broiled or fried them as young 
chicken are served, hot dressed in butter, salt and pepper. 
We skin them, instead of picking the feathers. The flesh 
is better of course, after cooling in the frosty air over 
night. 
The next day we reached our permanent camp on the 
banks of the middle fork of Little Goose, about as far as 
the wagons could go. This brought us within twenty 
miles and in sight of Cloud Peak Mountain, which is cov- 
ered with perpetual snow. Just below the Cloud Peak 
range is a chain of lakes that are reservoirs for the vari- 
ous streams that run down the mountains and into the 
Sheridan. Valley. In these lakes there are no trout. The 
trout in the streams is the speckled trout. When young, 
and up to Gin., they look like the brown trout, if it were 
not speckled; but when it measures 8in. and over the meat 
is a yellowish salmon color. The' longest we caught were 
16in., and caught only in pools below the greatest canon. 
Fishing in the mountains with flies was an utter failure; 
the live grasshopper was the only bait the trout would 
accept. We came two weeks too late for good fishing. 
The trout season opens about July 15 and continues to 
Aug. 15. Of course one can have fair sport in September, 
but one must yield to and court the fancies of this wary 
mountaineer. Two score in your basket after an hour's 
fishing is about as much as you can count on. The 
creeks are, say, 20ft. wide, the banks are covered with 
pine and willow and the rocks huge, and now and then 
you find under a fall a good sweep, with 5 to 7ft. deep, 
and a chance to make a good cast and to use 50ft. of 
line. 
I was greatly disappointed by the trout rejecting every 
kind of fly in my book, and I was disgusted when I put 
on my hook a mountain-hornet half alive, and a trout 
snapped it up so quickly that I almost wished it was 
strong enough to sting. To my surprise the trout only 
measured 6jin. 
Our party numbered eleven, but as nine of them came 
for big-game hunting, the three remaining in camp made 
a nice fishing group. The trout in those streams on the 
Big Horn in September do not feed — at least they do not 
take the hook — till evening. From 8 to 6 P. M. I found 
the best fishing. I found roe in quite a number, and in 
forward state for spawning. The big-game party left our 
camp on horseback and with pack horses and rations for 
four days for Cloud Peak range. On the third day 
one of the party returned with a pack horse for more pro- 
visions. He reported two herds of elk, one of bulls and 
the other of cows, and that the mating and running sea- 
son was just opened, but that the elk were on the highest 
ranges, just below the line of perpetual snow, and above 
the chain of lakes, and that the snowstorms soon to come 
would drive the elk down as well as the deer. 
These calculations or predictions were in the main ver- 
ified, but the herds had been scattered and the pairs were 
seeking secluded places, which made the finding of the 
game quite difficult. A slight fall of snow helped the 
boys greatly, but the sun in mid-day is blistering, and 
with the winds the snow soon passed away, but a pair of 
elk and three deer were killed. No bear were sighted; 
ducks and geese were not disturbed. 
The Big Horn Mountains and the Big Horn Basin will 
be very accessible by next season. The distance by dirt 
road from Sheridan to the eastern rim of the basin over 
the mountains is seventy-five miles; just about half the 
way there is a lake called the Dome Lake, on the banks 
of which a hotel will be built, and within two hours' 
walk of the snow, under the shadows of the Cloud Peak 
range. 
We paid our guide $3 per day; hire of riding horses, 50 
cents per day; wagon, driver and single team, $2 per day. 
Of course I shall dispense with a guide next season. 
The bracing air, the snow water streams on the sand 
rocks, the trout fishing, grouse hunting, and now and 
then an excursion for big game, are all to be found on the 
Big Horn Mountains — indeed as charming surroundings 
as the best sportsman may desire, and the native grass up 
to the snow line is abundant feed for the horses. 
Andrew J. Kellar. 
THE EPISODE OF THE SOAP. 
In his preface to the "Man from Corpus Christi," Dr. 
Peirce tells us: "Friends who have had the courage to 
read this book in the manuscript, and to read it through, 
have quarreled with me over its name. The true hero of 
the story they aver is the dog Absalom, and he should 
have given title to it. The interest, they claim, centers 
in him, in his canine eccentricities, his wonderful mem- 
ory, his patient endurance, and above all his faithful 
defense or chaperoning, as it were, of those thrown 
under his protection, All of these they declare make him 
the central figure of the play in which the human actors 
— the Man from Corpus Christi and the Author — were but 
subordinate characters, acting their parts only to develop 
his. The book then, my friends contend, should have 
been given some such title as 'Honest Absalom' or 'Absa- 
lom the Great'." 
The qualities of Absalom are seen in this chapter of 
Texas experience. It is interesting to be told, as we have 
been by Mr. Frank M. Chapman, who has camped out 
with the "Man from Corpus Christi," that the idiosyncra- 
sies of that queer character are in no wise exaggerated in 
Dr. Peirce's tale. But to the soap: 
April 14, we drove into Bee county and camped on the 
river. Packing up what bird skins we had, and leaving 
the camp in care of Absalom, we drove to the railroad 
town of Papalote, to ship our trophies and do some 
trading. 
The settlement of Papalote consists of one dwelling 
house, one store and post office combined and the rail- 
road station. The store and post office commanded the 
greater part of our attention. We purchased some coffee 
and grain, and after a long consultation between Priour 
and myself in regard to advisability , etc. , we decided to 
invest in a cake of soap. Making our want known to the 
grocery man. he proceeded to attack a large lump of yel- 
low something with a chisel and hammer. This lump was 
' about as large as a bushel, and I could not remember hav- 
ing seen soap on sale in such style before. After chiseling 
a while, the man held in his hand a piece of the sub- 
stance, weighing perhaps a pound, for which we were to 
pay one dollar. Making a hole in this lump with a nail, 
he threaded it with a stout piece of bark, that would serve 
as a handle to carry or hang it by. 
As we had seen no human beings besides each other, 
for a week, it was natural that we should remain here a 
time and talk with people as they came and went from 
the store. Where they came from was uncertain, they 
all emerged from the wood surrounding the clearing, and 
disappeared in a similar manner, no two persons entering 
the wood at the same place when going away. They 
came and went like bees from the hive, every man bring- 
ing a back-load of some merchantable article, and taking 
away something in exchange. 
Shortly after we had secured our soap, a customer en- 
tered the store and accosted the proprietor, "Have ye got 
'ny beeswax here?" 
"Yes; what in thunder d'you want of beeswax?" 
"None your darn business what I want it fer, I want 
beeswax, I do." 
"But yer ain't got no gun, and wax is no good ter ye; I 
don't see what ye want wax fer." 
"I want wax fer a sore on my gal's foot. Wax is good 
'nough fer any gal's foot." 
"Well, how much wax yer want; and how ye goin' to 
put it on yer wife's f ooti 1 " 
"When I want yer to help put my gal's foot ter soak 
in hot wax, I'll ask ye! Gim me a coon-skin's wuth o' 
wax." 
To my astonishment, the man in charge chiseled the 
customer off a piece of the same stuff he had sold us for 
soap. Soon after this, and while I was studying the sub- 
ject over, and wondering whether we had been sold wax 
for soap or if the last buyer had been given soap for wax, 
still another customer entered and called for hard-bread 
and cheese. He was supplied with both, the cheese being 
chiseled from the same amorphous body that had supplied 
two other articles. Tightly clinging to the piece we had 
bought, I determined at the first opportunity to hold an 
inquest and learn its precise nature. 
We remained an hour or more, and I saw skunk skins 
