462 
THE NATIVE AMERICAN HUNTER. 
iV.-A HUNTER HUNTED. 
This happened a long time ago. One time at the end 
of the summer a party of Cheyennes started out to look 
for camps of their enemies to take horses from them. 
There were about thirty-five men in this party and they 
were hoping that they would find a camp of Shoahones or 
of Bannocks from whom they might take some horses; for 
the Shoshones and Bannocks had good horses and many 
of them. 
The Cheyenne village stood on a little stream flowing 
out of the Black Hills toward the east, and these men 
started from there on foot, going through the Black Hills , 
and coming to Powder River near the Pumpkin Buttes. 
From here they followed up Powder River. In those days 
the Snakes and the Bannocks lived all through the moun- 
tains and often came out on the plains to hunt bufi'alo, hut 
the Cheyennes did not often go into the mountains. 
One night these people camped at Powder River Canon 
and slept there, but very early in the morning, just as the 
sky was beginning to get gray, they got up and built a fire 
and cooked some food and started to travel onward, walk- 
ing one behind the other. A few of these people had 
guns, old smooth-bore muskets, but most of them carried 
bows and arrows. 
They had started and were traveling along slowly, and 
it was now full daylight, only the sun did not yet shine 
down into the cafion, but they could see the line of its 
brightness creeping down the mountain to the west of 
them. Just as they were going up out of Powder River 
Cafion, Dog Head, the leader, looked up on the mountain 
to one side and saw a big ram come out into sight and 
snort. It stood on the edge of a cliif, among the grass and 
brush and pines that grew there, and they could only see 
its head and neck and its big horns. 
All the men stopped and looked at this ram, and said to 
each other: "See that mountain sheep. I wish we could 
get closer to him and kill him, so that we might have hun 
to eat." Por a little while the sheep stood there, turning 
his head slowly one way and another, looking all about 
him, and the war party stood still and watched him. 
Then presently the ram drew back and disappeared, and 
the party started on again. Before very long they 
saw the sheep come out again on the edge of the wail 
further along, as if he had trotted along the shelf and then 
come out again to look at the men traveling. Again the 
Ohevennes'stopped and looked at the sheep. 
Out of sight of the Cheyennes something was creeping 
very slowly and softly along the shelf of the cliff on whii^h 
the sheep was standing, and as the men stood there look- 
ing they saw, an animal fly through the air and alight on 
the back of the sheep as it stood there looking down on 
the travelers. It was a mountain lion. The lion sprang 
on the sheep's back and caught it around the neck with 
one paw; but the sheep, instead of turning to run back, 
sprang forward, and both came tumbling down through 
the air to the foot of the clifi'. 
They fell a long way before they struck the rocks, and 
after they struck them their bodies rolled far down the 
steep mountain side. The Cheyennes quickly ran forward 
to the place where they were. There they found the 
mountain lion trying to get away. Two of his legs and 
some of his ribs were broken, and they killed him. A 
little way off they could see the mountain sheep, but wheu 
they went up to it there was something queer about iu 
The skin seemed loose, and when they took hold of it and 
lifted it up they found inside the skin a person. 
The head and neck of the sheep were stuffed with grass, 
and balls of clay were put in it for eyes. The rest of the 
skin was drawn over the man's head and body, and his 
arms and legs were rubbed with white clay. In his left 
hand he had his bow and in his right a sheaf of arrows. 
It was in this way that he hunted through the mountains. 
If sheep I or deer saw him they thought him a sheep, and 
he could walk close to them. 
The Cheyennes did not know who this man was and 
did not find his camp, but they thought him a Shoshone 
or a Bannock, so they took off his scalp and brought it 
home with them. Geo, Bird Geinnell. 
THE EXPERIENCES OF A DEER 
HUNTER IN VERMONT. 
I AM exceedingly fond of sport, yet do not consider it 
worth the cost of bodily comfort. It does not seem to me 
that it pays to be frozen for the sake of gettmg shots at wild- 
fowl, nor would I endure the privations and discomforts of 
rough camp life for the chance of killing a deer, though that 
has long been my chief desire. The estabhshment of an 
open season for deer in Vermont, and the glowing accounts 
given of the abundance of that noble game there, seemed to 
offer the opportunity for which I had waited. Where deer 
come into the gardens of farmhouses, and even invade the 
village streets, one certainly need not endure great hardship 
in hunting them. A friend secured lodgings for me at a 
farmhouse where deer were said to be most abundant, and 
Oct. 1 found me installed there armed with suitable weapons 
and supplies, with such creature comforts as were not likely 
to be provided by my host. 
My host was past middle age, of plain manners and speech, 
and a countenance so honest that I was at once inspired with 
confidence in all his statements. He told me that deer were 
frequently seen on the farm, in the pasture with the cows, 
and in the grain fields, and that more than once an old buck 
had come into the garden from which he had to be "shooed 
out to keep him from eatin' up the garden sass," as my en- 
tertainer expressed it. 
My neatly furnished room, which had been fitted up for 
the departed summer boarder, overlooked the garden, and I 
spent a whole day sitting in an arm chair at the window 
watching for the coming of the antlered monarch of the 
hills. But I waited in vain, and in vain did 1 arise at an 
unearthly hour morning after morning and accompany the 
cowboy to the pasture in the hope of finding him or one of 
bis fellows there. 
Thus an unsuccessful week passed, and then my kmd host 
advised going to the woods, where, he said, "The' was 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
allera more deera 'an what the' was in the lots. You'll like 's 
not find 'em in 'mongst the spruce trees a-gummin'. They'se 
terrible critters for chawin' gum when they hain't chawin' 
nothing else, and you might find one stuck, with his teeth 
sot in a gob of gum as he couldn't pull off." This was a 
fact in natural history quite new to me, and I expressed 
some surprise, yet no unbelief; for how could I, as I looked 
in the guileless face of my informant and he emphatically 
reiterated, "Yes, sir; you'll alias see deers a-chawin' gum 
when they hain't a-chawin' nothin' else." I remarked that 
this was possibly what 1 had seen the cows and sheep on the 
farm engaged in while they were at rest, and wondered that 
the horses and pigs had not become addicted to it; but my 
honest friend assured me that it was wads of grass that the 
cows and sheep chewed, not gum, which was less easily oh 
tained, and that it "someheow didn't seem to come handy 
for bosses and hawgs to chaw stiddily without swall'in'." 
I wonder if this habit of gum chewing was not learned of 
the deer by the people. Every one who does not chew to- 
bacco chews gum. 
1 at once proceeded to range the border of the adjacent 
spruce forest, but the most careful research failed to dis- 
cover a deer, though there was plenty of gum which should 
have attracted them. What I did find was only bitter disap- 
pointment. 
One day my attention was attracted by the movement of 
some undergrowth about 50yds from me. As I caught 
sight of a patch of blue which, as 1 had heard of deer being 
in the blue coat, this I was sure belonged to the game I was 
in quest of. I leveled my rifle and, taking as steady aim as 
the tumultuous beating of my heart would nermit, I pulled 
the trigger. Imagine my consternation when I beheld, not 
a noble buck plunging forward, but a man clad in an old 
army overcoat come walking forth sweanog outrageously, 
calling me opprobrious names, acd demanding In the name 
of blanks too venomous and unseemly to mention, "what I 
JOHN BOMEZ. 
Born In the year 1781, now living on Panther Key, Florida. Fr<>in a photo- 
graph in 1S97 by Tarpon, 
was a-shootin' at." He was very impolite and unreasonable, 
for I had only shot a hole through the skirt of his miserable 
old coat. When I gave him $1 to mend it his manners im- 
proved materially, though he declined an invitation to hunt 
with me. 
Next day I was out in the woods betimes, but saw nothing 
worth a shot till near noon, when, as I was standing in some 
undergrowth at the back side of my host's farm, I heard the 
approaching footsteps of some large quadruped. Cocking 
my rifle, I kept perfectly stiU, with my eyes fixed in the 
direction of the sound, and presently saw the tops of a pair 
of horns moving slowly above the bushes which quite hid 
the body of the animal from my view. I could not doubt 
that it was a buck, for what else with horns could be in the 
woods? As the direction he was taking would not bricg 
him in plainer sight, I calculated the position of the shoul- 
der, and taking a careful aim a little behind it fired, the dis- 
tance being not more than 20yd8. The report of the gun 
was followed by a bellow of mortal agony, such as I had 
not expected to hear from a deer; still I doubted not that 
such it was upon which my .33-45 had done its fatal work. 
The stricken beast went crashing through the underbrush 
at a tremendous pace straight toward the open field, for 
which I was thankful, as it would make the finding of my 
game easier. There was no diffisulty in following the trail 
of blood, nor even the hoof prints, which were distinctly 
marked in the mold and very large, I thought, already ex- 
ulting over the size of my trophy. I soon came to the pas- 
ture, where I easily followed the trail of blood, constantly 
looking forward in expectation of seeing the buck, but he 
was nowhere to be seen on the cleared slope that reached its 
crest half a mile before me. To this I hurried on the trail, 
and from it beheld about 200yds. beyond me the great carcass 
of my victim. Two men stood near it, whom I recognized on 
my approaching them as my host and his hired man. I 
could not withhold a triumphant whoop, and called out to 
them to congratulate me on my success, but they did not 
seem to share my enthusiasm at all ; on the contrary, my 
host looked exceedingly glum, and addressed me in a tone 
of corresponding severity. 
"Is this 'ere some o' your duin's?" he demanded, pointing 
his thumb over his shoulder at the dead animal. 
"Certainly, I shot the deer over yonder in the edge of the 
[Dec. 11 \m. 
woods," I answered, not a little puzzled by his manner, 
which I attributed to nothing but envy. "Isn't it all right, 
Mr. Palmer? He had horns, he was not chased by hounds, 
he was not at a salt Uck, and I haven't killed but one of 
them," I added, with my mind on the restrictions of the law. 
"Deer!" Ezekiel Palmer laughed a bitter, resentful laugh, 
and the hired man grinned so widely that his big hand could 
not cover the corners of his mouih. "Look! Don't you 
know a deer from a two year-old steer? Wal, you hev cut 
up a dum purty caper!" 
Alas! it was too true, as 1 saw on coming closer to my 
victim, and from the height of exultation I fell into the 
depths of humiliation. 
"However, I s'pose you're willin' tu settle it 'thout makin' 
no extry cost," Ezskiel said, softening his manner. I as- 
sured him that 1 was, and asked him to name the terms. 
"Wal," he said after some consideration, "I wouldn't ha' 
took less in forty dollars- for that are critter; but seein' it is 
you un' it was a mistake, if you'll gi' me thirty we shall be 
square, an' I'll du what I kin wi' the meat an' hide. The 
meat's spoilt, probably, an' the hide's got a hole in't; but I 
kin git a little somethin' for 'em, an' you wouldn't want tu 
bother wi' 'em." 
I gladly accepted his proposal, and paying for the steer 
and $8 for a week's board, at once returned to the city, 
though urged by Ezekiel to prolong my stay. He seemed 
quite willing to risk his steers. "Arter ^11," he said, "it's 
considerable cheaper for ye 'en if yu 'd shot a doe or a fa'n.'' 
Considering my two shots simply as shnts, I do not think 
them bad ones. Adolphus Dobbs. 
[Transmitted to Forest mr> Stream by Rowland E. 
Robinson.] 
AMONG PROTECTED GAME. 
Gardiner, Park C aunty, Mont., Nov. 23 — Editor Forest 
and Stream: I got back with Mr. Rogers late in October. 
We came in ahead of the packs, but saw very little game 
until we reached the point of the hill at the junction of 
Cache Creek and East Fork (Lamar River). There we saw 
a splendid band of about ninety elk, only one large bull with 
them I had been telling Mr. Rogers that we would see elk, 
or ought to, but that they were on the ridges. We saw 
three more as we turned up Soda Butte Creek; the sun was 
j ist down and elk were coming down to water. We saw 
some very heavy trails made during the deeper snow of Oct. 
16 and 17, but when we came in the snow was all off the 
lower levels. We stopped at the Stage Station that nigbt. 
We left Soda Butte early, but saw no game— only trails — 
until we turned off the road on a "cut-e ff" at LitHe Spring 
Creek. In the edge of the timber, in little parks and in the 
timber we could see hundreds of elk, most of them lying 
down. Wishing to see how many there were, I whistled 
with my hands, trying to imitate an elk. You don't have to 
come very near during the running season to get an 
answer, as they will answer most any kind of a noise. I 
was quite successful; the bulls were all around the cows, on 
hillsides in the timber, and gulches on ridges and openings — 
all whistling. 
Soon the cows began to move. Then you would hive 
thought a thousand children were just out of school; cows and 
calves calling one another. Such a racket I suppose you have 
often heard, as there were from 800 to 1,000 elk in the band. 
They did not move fast; we did not see one run or trot, but 
we could hear them long after they were out of sight. On 
the other side of the ridge we saw another band of several 
hundred, but did not pass very near — at a quarter of a mile 
distant, I think — so did not disturb them at all. On our way 
to Gardiner 1 think we saw not far from 1,500 elk. 
We struck the head of the Turkey Pen at dusk. Riding 
down a little draw, we saw outlined against the sky a doe 
and two fawns, with their great ears looking like small wings. 
We talked to them, told them they were very pretty, and 
assured them of our good intentions; they did not move 
while they were in sight, though we rode within 50ft. of 
them. We reached Gardiner after dark, and had to ford 
Gardiner River— a nasty stream for that. The biidge had 
been torn out by Col. Young's orders, to prevent the pastur- 
ing of town cattle and horses in that part of the Park where 
the antelope usually winter. 
Soon after my return the Park antelope started to leave, 
crossing the Gardiner River and keeping along the foothills 
in front of the town, where they spent the night. I could 
hear coyotes running them all night, and once they came so 
close my house I thought they would go past it. The next 
morning some of the men here went down about a mile and 
a half and killed four antelope. This turned them back into 
the Park. Later some went below and were killed. Now 
those that are left are in the foot hills not far from Gardiner. 
There were about thirty soldiers with an ofiicer down one 
day from Fort Yellowstone, trying to drive them further 
back in the Park. I do not think they were very successful. 
I saw the antelope break back once. I think there are now 
about 135 left in the Park. If it were not for the coyotes, 
there ought to be 1,000 or more. 
An effort is being made to kill off the coyotes, and a few 
have been di-posed of, yet I think there are now more coy- 
otes than Antelope. It could not have been anything but 
coyotes that caused them to leave the Park, as the feed is 
very good and free from snow. 
The bears that were chained up at the Springs and foun- 
tain (foui in all) have been released. The five elk at the 
Mammoth Hot Springs are still in the inclosure, but are 
liable to be turned out, as they are not wanted at the park 
in Washington. E. Hofer, 
Old John Gomez. 
Tarpon Springs, Fla. — I had meant to write up the cruise 
for Forest and Stream, but we had such infernal weather 
that it took all the write out of me. In a twenty-eight days' 
cruise we had one day and a half fair wind, the rest of the 
time it was a dead fight to windward, and for a good part of 
the time half a gale. 
I send you a photo of old John Gomez, made in Septem- 
ber. I could see that old John is failing, and I doubt if you 
will ever see another picture of him. If this one is fit I wish 
it could be reproduced in Forest and Stream; there are 
many who would Uke to see it. You said once ot one of old 
John's pictures that the skin aid not show great age. Take 
a reading glass and look at this one and tell me what you 
think, Tarpon. 
The PoKBST AND STREAM is put to press each week on 
Tuesday. Correspondence Intended for pubUcatioct 
should reach us at the latest hy Monday, and as much 
earlier as pradicaTile 
