Skft. 5, 1896.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
18B 
and the dog, who had been boon companions for six 
years, with never a quarrel between them (for the dog 
would not quarrel with the man) — ^took their way to the 
house. At the gate they are met by a five-year-old, who 
takes the duck from the dog and asks, "What else did 
you get? A brant ! Oh, but he's a big one 1 Papa, old 
Mr. Shekels was here to see you," "What did he want?" 
"Said there was a lot of young mallards in the pond in 
by his big cornfield, and hadn't been anybody after 
them, and wanted you to come up there and kill them; 
and there was any amount of them. Are you going to 
take Flora or Sinner ? I want you to take Flora, 'cause 
Sinner goes better to my wagon. When will you get me 
a gun?" 
"Young fellow, you are too much like your father to 
ever amount to anything," said the man. 
"That's what ma says, but I don't b'lieve it," said the 
youngster. 
"Supper is ready," said a loving voice at the door. 
When the meal was finished the same voice said: "It's a 
good thing that you got those two birds, bo we can have 
something to eat to-morrow." 
"Don't feel like I'd want anything more for a week," 
said the man. 
"I should think not," replied the wife, 
O, H. Hampton. 
IN COLORADO MOUNTAINS. 
As told by the Junior of the Party. 
[Concluded from page 167.'] 
Mr. C. and Wells found where a small cinnamon bear 
bad been feeding upon the carcass of a deer the night be- 
fore. On talking over the chances around the camp-fire 
that night, we decided that it was likely that this bear 
would come back to feed on the remainder of the deer, 
and that it would pay to set the bear trap there. Accord- 
ingly, the next morning we packed the trap on Speckles 
and took it to the place, fixing things so as to give Bruin 
a warm reception if he tried to finish his meal. 
Most boys' books on the subject give you an idea that 
you can go out in the woods, run across a grizzly bear 
and have a scrap with him whenever you want, and that if 
you come within sight, scent or hearing he will attack you. 
Exactly the opposite is the case. There is nothing that a 
grizzly is more afraid of to-day than man. He has been 
hunted so steadily with modern weapons of high caliber 
and precision that be has become the wariest of American 
wild beasts and it is about impossible to find him when 
free. He is very swift and silent on his feet, and long be- 
fore you can see him he has seen or scented you and 
made off. 
Wells, with whom we hunted, estimates that since he 
began hunting in Colorado, about eight years ago, he has 
killed nearly 100 bears, of which a large number were 
grizzlies; yet of them all not one was killed running free 
in the woods. They all were trapped. The trap com- 
monly used is the Newhouse trap manufactured by the 
Oneida Community in New York. It is celebrated for the 
way the steel springs are tempered. The trap is simply a 
pair of circular jaws, which close with a snap on any- 
thing touching a trigger between them which loosens 
the springy. This trap is set at the entrance of an artifi- 
cial pen, into which the bait is dragged. The bear, on 
entering the pen, steps on the trap and is generally 
caught by the foot. Our present attempt was a failure, 
for this bear did not come back. 
This was the day on which my father killed his elk. 
In the afternoon we were riding in single file through 
thick spruce timber, Johnny in the lead, I next and my 
father third, when suddenly I saw Johnny hold up his hand 
and motion for us to get off and come to him. We were 
by him in about three seconds and luck favored my 
father. In these matters, whether you get your game 
or lose it is a matter of seconds and of instinct rather 
ttian of reason, as you have no time to consider. I 
happened to come forward on Johnny's right and my 
father on his left. Looking down a lane in the trees, my 
father saw a bull elk standing about 75yds. off, head on, 
looking right at him. It all passed in a moment. He 
dropped on one knee, and raising his rifie, fired. As he 
fired I saw a cow elk looking at me from behind a tree, 
but of course did not shoot at her. The bull disappeared, 
and leaving me with the horses, Johnny and my father 
plunged forward after the bull. As he shot, Johnny said 
to me, "He got him all right;" but ten minutes' hunting 
in the brush failed to locate him. They then came back 
and I pointed out the direction in which I saw the bull 
disappear. They had been following the cows, thinking 
they would stay with the bull, but I thought I had seen 
the bull and a calf start to run straight away from us. 
This proved to be so, for after several minutes I heard a 
whoop from my father and I knew they had him, and in 
my joy at his success I jumped over three logs and 
wtiooped until I was hoarse. The bull was found by 
Brigham, Johnny's hound, and when they came to him 
he was lying stone dead under a big spruce, shot through 
the heart. He had run about 100yds. from where he was 
shot. He was a beautiful animal, with branching antlers, 
and there was great joy in camp when we brought his 
head home that night. We ran on the elk about half-past 
4, but it took us over an hour to skin the bull and get hjfi 
head off, and pack it and the meat we wanted on the 
horses, and as our journey home was through thick spruce 
for a long way, we did not make camp until after dark. 
My father now had killed an elk, but had not yet secured 
a good pair of buck antlers, so next day he started off 
after deer by himself, and Johnny and I ,went for elk. 
Neither hunt was successful. My father shot a buck, but 
it got away. 1 rode all day in the thick timber without 
getting a shot, though I saw some cow elk and had a 
glimpse of a bull. I climbed Pagoda Peak, however, and 
from there had a magnificent view of the surrounding 
country. It was a beautifully clear day, and from my 
elevation of about 11,000ft, I could see for over 100 miles 
into Wyoming on the north and Utah on the west, I got 
back to camp first and went out to meet my father, and 
found him returning with three grouse, which to my 
astonishment he said he had killed with stones; he was 
pitcher on his school team when a boy. Mr. C. on this 
d£^ saw several bulls, but did not get a shot. 
The next day Mr. C. thought he would like to try his 
hand at hunting deer alone, and the outcome was very 
remarkable and succesaful, for he got two large bucks, 
one of which had a fine pair of antlers. This proved to 
be one of my lucky days. I had hunted hard with Johnny 
for elk all day long, seeing nothing but small deer. It was 
5 o'clock in the afternoon and we had still six miles to go 
to camp thi'ough thick timber. We were crossing a small 
open park in the edge of the timber, when I happened to 
look over to the right and saw a bull elk come rushing 
out of the woods into the park. I was off my horse in an 
instant, and was ready to shoot before he had reached the 
other side of the park, ISOyds. away, and here a lucky 
thing happened for me. At the other end of the park, 
near where he was going to enter the timber, there was a 
small opening which led into another smaller park. Just 
as he was about to plunge into the woods three deer came 
running through this opening. He was so surprised and 
startled by their sudden appearance that he turned and 
ran along the edge of the park without entering the tim- 
ber. This gave me a good chance to shoot. Just as I got 
my sights on him he turned around and started back 
again, and so I shot behind him. At the shot he turned 
and plunged into the timber. I took a quick shot at his 
vanishing rump. "No catchee," said Johnny. "No 
catchee," I repeated. "We'll go and have a look any- 
how," said Johnny. "You may have hit him with that 
last shot, but I don't think so." "Oh, what's the use?" I 
answered, "I missed him clean as a whistle." But Johnny 
insisted, so we rode over to where we saw the last of our 
elk. Johnny rode in a few steps, and then said quietly: 
"Well, you got him all right. And there he lay in all 
his glory, a beautiful young spike bull as large as a heifer. 
This completed our collection of elk trophies. I had 
killed a cow elk last year in Wyoming. My father had on 
this trip secured a bull with a fine pair of antlers, and this 
spike bull completed the family group. 
We cut off the hams and skinned the head, and having 
no pack horse that day we hung the skin of the head and 
the skull with the horns high up on a tree near by. The 
hams we wished to save for eating, so hung one on the 
limb of a sapling and the other on a high stump, to save 
them from marauding bears, and we tuen took our way 
campward, weary, but very well satisfied with our day's 
hunt. 
I forgot to say that on the day before Johnny and I 
had visited my father's elk carcass, which lay less than 
half a mile from mine. This was on the second morning 
after my father killed it, but it was all absolutely gone 
with the exception of some gnawed ribs and leg 
bones — with not enough meat left on them to feed 
Brigham. Remember that this had been a large elk, 
and yet one bear (as we learned from his tracks) 
had done all this gormandizing. The hunters said that 
the tracks were certainly those of "Old Ephraim," a very 
large grizzly, as well known to bear hunters throughout 
that region as was "Haskins's coon" in Stockton's story 
of the coon hunters who vainly pursued that elusive coon 
on many successive nights. All grizzlies are known by 
the generic name "Old Ephraim," but this particular bear 
has taken title alone to the jname in the White River 
region of Colorado. We made up our minds to get that 
bear, and to this end resolved to move our camp to a place 
within half a mile of the carcass of my elk, and to set our 
trap there, so next day we broke camp and on the way 
stopped where the carcass lay. Ephraim had been there; 
the carcass had been partly eaten, and had been dragged 
more than SOyds. through the timber. When we looked 
for the hams which had been so carefully hung by us, 
out of reach as we thought, we found they had been torn 
down, and they lay together undevoured, but thoroughly 
mauled, lOUyds. away. As the hunters say in the ver- 
nacular, the bear had "gormed" them — an expressive 
term, if you understand it to mean that the bear had in 
an evident spirit of wanton destruotiveness destroyed for 
our uses the meat he did not want for his own. As elk 
meat is preferable to venison, we felt very indignant at 
Ephraim for his double theft, and made a solemn vow to 
secure his hams in exchange for those he destroyed. We 
set the trap very carefully, and then went and made camp 
in a valley below Pagoda Peak. 
Early next morning Johnny went up to see if we had 
Ephraim — but alas! he had us. He had visited the car- 
cass, smelt out the trap, rooted it out of the ground with 
his nose, sprung it and walked off safe, and doubtless 
smiling at us. This we were told by our guides was a 
trick peculiar to this particular bear. He had played it a 
number of times on other hunters in the past. After 
breakfast Wells, my father and I went up and set the 
trap again. Wells, who was nettled at the way we had 
been "played," set the trap with the greatest care, mak- 
ing a few changes in the surroundings, and then we went 
hunting, but got nothing that day. 
The next morning we had "a" grizzly, but not "the" 
grizzly. Old Ephraim had again escaped us, and this 
time for good. It will hardly be believed, but the evidence 
of the tracks and the surroimdings showed unmistakably 
that when the other bear was caught in the trap, "Eph" 
had walked in, over or by him, and taking the nams we 
had left with the bait, had carried them out of the pen 
and eaten them. We found the bones near by. The bear 
we caught was not extraordinarily large, but he was 
large enough to satisfy us, weighing about 4001bs. His 
fur was in very good condition. When we reached the 
trap we found that he had been caught by the right fore- 
foot, and such was his ferocity that by the time we ar- 
rived he had nearly freed himself by gnawing his foot 
off. He was furiously angry, and his snarling and roar- 
ing were terrifying to a novice. We stood around with 
our rifles cocked whUe my father took three hasty snaps 
at him with his kodak. At the third the indignant bear 
made a jump at Johnny, who had no weapon but an axe, 
so aiming between brum's eyes I shot him, putting him 
out of pain and us out of danger, A grizzly is, however, 
very tenacious of life, more so than almost any other 
animal, and this one, although theie was a hole in his 
skull large enough to get two of your fingers into, did not 
die for fifteen minutes, although he never regained con- 
sciousness. I sat down on him, so that I can now say 
that I have sat on a live grizzly bear in the heart of the 
Rocky Mountain forests. 
And then we came home and I became a schoolboy 
again. And now I look back on the lofty mountains, the 
somber solitude of the mighty forests, the mountain 
brooks, and the waving spruces as dreams of the paat, and 
remember "the blazing fire at night, the sweet taste of 
supper, the talk, the bed of hemlock boughs, and the 
bear skin." H, S. D., Je. 
The Forest and Stbbam is put to press each week on Tuesday. 
Correspondence intended for publication should reach ua at the 
latest by Monday, and a* much, earlier as practicable. 
CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 
Around Lake St. Clair. 
Chicaqo, 111,, Aug, 23, — It was a large and merry party 
of guests that Com. Scotten took out from Detroit 
in his boat last week, the party being in honor of the 
shooters visiting Detroit at Jack Parker's shooting tour- 
nament, and comprising more than a dozen local and vis- 
iting men well known in shooting circles. The start was 
made early Saturday morning, and the voyage was a de- 
lightful one, with all the luxuries at hand which a well- 
equipped steam yacht can offer. The day passed in story 
telling and merriment, until the party arrived at Com. 
Scotten's cottage on the North Channel. Here he has 
an elegant cottage in course of erection, and here he keeps 
a vast house-boat, fitted out like an ocean liner for com- 
fort and elegance, with over a dozen staterooms, a big 
dining hall, library, kitchen, observatory, etc., etc., cer- 
tainly a most admirable home for a summer fishing party 
or a fall shooting assembly. This big boat, which is about 
60ft, over all, is always the dwelling place of some of Com, 
Scotten's friends, and until the erection of his cottage has 
acted as the summer home of himself and family, the 
yacht Wanda making regular trips up from the city, after 
the half marine fashion of Detroit in the summer season. 
The locality is right in the heart of the best of the ducking 
country of the famous St; Clair marshes, and from the 
roof of the house-boat we could see uncounted miles of 
fine mallard marsh, broken up with long reaches and pools 
of open water. Here some fine bags of ducks are made, 
and there is every prospect that thia fall the Commodore 
and his friends will have elegant sport, for the birds are 
reported breeding in abundance on the marsh, to say noth- 
ing of the migratory flight of deep-water fowl. There is 
abundance of good woodcock ground near by also. The 
whole region thereabout has a twang of the paddle and 
gun which years of fashionable settlement have not been 
able to eradicate, and the dwellers thereabout offer types 
and characters worthy of our writers who are looking for 
that sort of thing and not always finding it. 
While our party was wandering about the grounds at 
the cottage and house-boat — all low "made ground," as is 
customary in this modern Venice — attention was called 
to an interesting fact. The workmen on the place had 
reported seeing very often a mallard hen which had her 
nest near the bank of a ditch close up to the house, and 
we were told that the nest could still be seen. We filed 
out over the marsh about 50yds. from the house, and 
there to be sure we found the nest of Mother Mallard, 
now, alas! deserted on account of the continual noise and 
frequent visits which the building of the house had occa- 
sioned. We found the nest to be merely a little gather- 
ing together of the twigs of the rushes which grew about 
it, the eggs being merely held above the moist earth. 
The reeds bent about it in a scanty circle, and the cover 
was slight when one came up near the nest. About half 
a dozen eggs remained in the nest, and some of these were 
broken. One of the party, Mr. Heikes, who had a cam- 
era with him, made a very interesting picture of the nest. 
Our voyage over the charming St. Clair country was 
terminated by a run up the beautiful "Sui Carte," a rapid 
run down the South Channel among the ceaseless streams 
of shipping, a stop at historic Joe Bedore'a place, and a 
turbulent passage across old "Lac St. Clair" in the teeth 
of a rattling blow which brought rain and lightning to 
add to the picturesqueness of a lovely locality. It seemed 
to a stranger that tnia is a very happy hunting ground 
for a sportsman, and of all the many lovers of the rod 
and gun who make the lovely city of Detroit their home, 
there are few who are more fortunate or more happy and 
hospitable than Mr. Scotten. 
A Sportsmen's Luncheon. 
This social side of sportsmanship seems to gather force 
as years go by, which is a very pretty thing to chronicle. 
Here at Chicago we had this week a little instance of this. 
At the close of the late trap-shooting contest between 
Mr, R. O. Heikes and Mr. Fred. Gilbert for the E. C. cup, 
the winner, Mr. Heikes, invited the defeated and a num- 
ber of his friends to a little luncheon. This was duly 
had yesterday, there being present, besides the host and 
Mr. Gilbert, Mr, E. S. Rice, Mr. W. L. Shepard, Mr. 
Charles Grim, Mr. A, C. Patterson, Mr, J, H, Robbins 
and the writer. Mr, Heikes is as quiet and as beaming a 
host as ever put foot under a boara, and the affair was as 
pleasant as any ever was. It was a graceful and pretty 
thing, such a luncheon, and shows that shooting is not all 
there is to the sport of trap-shooting. 
Buffalo Skulls In Iowa. 
It was this lun cheon, by the way, or the preliminaries to it, 
that brought out what to me seems a rather curious fact, 
namely, the recent discovery in northwestern Iowa of 
numerous buffalo skulls. One would have thought these 
relics all picked up or rotted away long before this, Mr. 
Fred. Gilbert, whose home is at Spirit Lake, la,, told me 
that the late droughty years have caused the entire dry- 
ing up of many lakes and bodies of water in that region 
which for the generation past have been full of water. 
The skulls and bones were in each case found at the bot- 
tom of some such dried-up lake. A great many of them 
have been found, and Mr. Gilbert, pointing out an old 
skull of my collection which is in fair preservation, said 
that the Iowa skulls were quite as good as that — proof of 
the preservative effects or a long bath under mud and 
water. The animals were no doubt mired down or in 
some way killed at the water in the past. There is no 
doubt about the skulls and horns being those of the bison 
and not of domestic cattle. 
Mr, Gilbert's father, John Gilbert, is still living. He 
came to Spirit Lake in the frontier days, in 1857, Fred 
thinks. Fred Gilbert has heard his father tell of killing 
two buffalo after his arrival at Spirit Lake, in Dickinson 
county, la,, and he thinks these buffalo were killed in 
that county, though the hunt may have taken the men 
beyond the limits of that county. John Gilbert killed the 
only two buffalo seen, a bull and a cow, which were found 
cut off on a strip of unburned grass in a region which had 
been burned over by a prairie fire. The weapon used 
was a muzzleloading rifie. To-day there are flax fields 
growing over the lakes where John Gilbert once went 
goose hunting with his rifle, and Mr. E, S. Rice, who goes 
this week to the old Gilbert homestead, wiU. be glad if 
they find plenty of prairie chickens instead of geese and 
buffalo and elk, as was once the case in the swift history 
of that sturdy prairie State. 
