72 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Jan. 17, 1914. 
Hunting in Alberta 
By RUPERT STARBIRD 
O N the first of last September our outfit 
pulled out of Banff, Alberta, for a three 
w.eeks’ trip of sightseeing and hunting. 
We made five camps in the park, which is a game 
reserve, and traveled another day before getting- 
out of the protected area. The guide in charge 
was unwilling to travel more than four hours a 
day going out, but coming back we did much 
better. The camping places in the park are laid 
out more for the convenience of the. tourists, 
who, perhaps, desire but a short day in the sad¬ 
dle. 1 do not consider this at all satisfactory 
to the hunter, who usually likes to keep pushing 
along to the hunting grounds. As I remember 
we camped at Stoney Brook, the Cutoff, at the 
game guardians’ headquarters on the Panther, 
Windy Gap, on the Red Deer, and then another 
day was spent in going over the Summit to the 
Clearwater, which is out of the park. So we 
spent six days in covering what could have rea¬ 
sonably been done in three or four. 
The guide and horse wrangler did not get 
away with the pack train. They were delayed 
in town. 
In their place another packer employed by the 
outfitters gave me a sendoff as far as Stoney 
Brook. If I were to meet him alone in the moun- . 
tains I would surely stampede, for he is big. ■ 
black, and has the eyebrows of a stage pirate. 
He had scarcely enough leather on the heels of 
his shoes upon which to fasten his spur. But he 
belies his looks. He rode his horse after the 
fashion of some squaws, constantly flopping his 
legs, from the knees down, loosely, in and out, 
in and out. We made a short day of it, and 
had made camp, besides cooking and eating sup¬ 
per, before the balance of the outfit galloped into 
camp. In the morning, my companion of the 
day before took the back trail, flopping his legs 
in farewell. 
The guide and wrangler brought back a 
young fellow for cook, who was thrown in for 
good measure. This made quite an outfit when 
scattered over the scenery, as besides our saddle 
Torses, we had four pack horses. The intention, 
during sometime in the past, was to make some 
Tiorse out of the one I rode. He was bred part 
hackney and part cayuse. He was a wonder in 
jumping logs and ravines, but I do not believe 
you want part anything for mountain travel, just 
all cayause. On the trail my position was last. 
I wore no spurs and the horse knew it. So he 
always chose a deliberate gait until the outfit 
passed out of sight over a rise or in the timber, 
when he would whinny, and rush ahead as though 
afraid to be left alone. This was lively business 
among the trees, for trails in such places are 
winding, and in his hurry he would cut through 
places off the trail and do it so suddenly that it 
kept me busy pulling leather, ducking branches 
and watching my legs for stubs. But I received 
a few punctures and still carry the scars. I think 
this was his first trip on the trail. 
On this trip there is a great deal of fording 
swift, rocky streams. There are fourteen cross¬ 
ings of the Panther in a couple of hours’ travel, 
and going down to the Clearwater, for about 
four miles, we were in the bed of a fearfully 
boulder strewn stream three-fourths of the time, 
and, glory be! my horse lost three shoes and went 
lame, so that a change was made. He carried ? 
pack and one of the pack-horses was used for 
a saddle horse. My troubles ended and from 
then on riding was a pleasure. Then to show 
his strange disposition, my former saddle-horse 
tried to lead as a pack-horse, and he kept all 
hands busy keeping him back in place. 
Never ride these western horses without 
spurs. I thought I had learned that lesson, but 
I seemed to have forgotten it. I learned some¬ 
thing about kyacks on this trip. I carried all 
of my outfit in one, except blankets, and it 
proved to be great, but the buckles and leather 
straps with which they are provided appear to be 
useless, and my packers would not use them for 
the reason that they could not strap them to the 
crosses of the pack saddle so that the kyack 
would ride properly, but held up tight by a rope 
from below and it rides perfectly. There is 
practically no chance to break your personal 
things in a kyack, while the bumps and scraping 
against the pack might do it in an alforjas. 
We used an Indian-made tepee instead of 
a tent. This was a great comfort and the tepee 
poles did .not enter into the question in or out 
of the park. Out of the park there are plenty 
of poles already cut and left in good camping 
places by the Indians. The open fire in the 
tepee, protection from rain and snow, while cook¬ 
ing and eating, and another thing the smoke 
question is solved. If the tepee flaps at the top 
are at the right slant from the wind there is no 
smoke in the wigwam unless you stand erect, 
when you notice it. And what is nicer than lying 
on a bed of jackpine boughs, encircling a fire 
and not be chased around by the ever-changing 
smoke? I say jackpine boughs. * These heavily 
leaved jackpines in this country have balsam, 
hemlock and spruce beat a city block for a place 
upon which to rest the weary frame. 
The emotions which I felt upon first seeing 
the Valley of the Red Deer were somewhat 
nr'xed. What a happy hunting ground this must 
have been in the past, with its buffalo and wapiti; 
and what a wonderful relief to come down from 
the pass and feel the freedom of that broad val¬ 
ley — a valley which was a constant delight, of 
broad plateaus, high tablelands, aspen groves, 
glades, spruce trees; set in the mountains and 
drained by a beautiful mountain stream. Why 
the pack-horses felt it! They wanted to race 
and kick up their heels. 
We arrived at our day's camping ground at 
the completion of a tragedy. The squirrels were 
all in a fluster and there were many of them. 
But one was dead and he laid in front of me 
with a crimson stain right below his ear. While 
I was looking and speculating another squirrel 
came hitching down the hill and without much 
effort, except to take several fresh holds, carried 
the dead one up the hill into a fallen spruce top, 
where he was lost to view. I would like to know 
what was done then. Now the squirrels had 
stopped their clatter. About twenty minutes later 
I caught the snake-like look of a weasel as he 
peered over the roots of a tree. I promptly put 
him to flight. 
A point of interest near this camping place 
is a lick about 150 yards long. It is close to the 
river bank and is both a wet and dry lick. There 
were fresh sheep and goat tracks all around, and 
the game trails indicate that visitors from across 
the river come to the Mecca as well as those on 
the side in which the lick is located. 
It is a day’s journey from this place over 
the summit into the Clearwater Valley, which 
is out of the park. There we were allowed to 
hunt. There are many old Indian trails along 
the Clearwater and we could see by the fresh 
unshod cayause tracks that the Stoneys from 
Morley had already taken the trail for the fall 
hunt. They take their families, dogs, etc., and 
stay as long as they like. These Indians are good 
hunters and can climb like a goat and that is 
partly due to their moccasin footwear, which is 
the only thing to wear, anyway. This was the 
first hunting trip I ever took upon which I did 
not wear either Indian-made moccasins or shoe 
packs. 
Of course, to travel over some of the loose and 
AT A RANGERS CABIN, CLEARWATER VALLEY. ^ert Starbhd 
