April 27, 1907.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
653 
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1 
Catching a Calf Elk. 
Salesville, Mont., April 20 .—Editor Forest 
and Stream: It was about the first of June, be¬ 
fore the days when wise legislators saw fit to 
prohibit the domestication of elk. Big Lew, 
Bert Stillman, my brother Ed. and myself were 
camped on Taylor’s Fork of the West Gallatin 
River, where we had been catching elk calves. 
We always located the cow elk in the evening 
when they came out to feed, then would start 
after them before daylight and get them before 
they cached their calves. 
For the benefit of the uninitiated. I will ex¬ 
plain that all animals of the deer tribe cache or 
hide their young during the day, going back 
to them in the evening and concealing them 
again in the morning until the little animals are 
strong enough to keep up with their mothers 
in a long run. 
We had been having fairly good luck. We 
had gotten our dogs trained to go without 
muzzles, and we naturally thought we could 
catch any calf that walked if we only had half 
a show; but for the last few days before the 
event of which I am about to tell happened, we 
were down on our luck. The calves were get¬ 
ting big enough to keep up with their mothers, 
and before we could overtake the dogs the cows 
would have them knocked out, and we would 
go back to camp with very tired horses and 
badly battered dogs. 
One evening I made a trip up Dead Horse 
Creek and crossed over the divide toward 
Cache Creek. When near the top of the divide 
I saw a spike bull come out of some jackpines 
about a mile away and walk toward a coulee a 
little way off. I turned back till I was out of 
his sight across the divide, then turned to the 
right till I came to a strip of timber which ran 
parallel to the direction I was going. I then 
followed this timber, keeping well out of sight 
till I came opposite to the place I had seen 
the spike disappear in the coulee. I then tied 
my horse to a tree and started toward the 
coulee on foot, when my dog, which was walk¬ 
ing a few feet ahead, lifted his nose and began 
to scent off to the left in the direction in which 
I knew there was a large open hillside. The 
wind was then coming directly from the hill¬ 
side to me. and as it was getting late, I walked 
pretty fast so as to get there before dark. Near 
the edge of the timber I walked slower and 
watched more carefully, for I knew that at that 
time of day if there were any elk in that 
vicinity they would be likely to be in that open¬ 
ing; and from the way my dog was nosing I 
felt sure it was either elk or bear, and as it 
might be the latter, I looked to see how my gun 
was loaded. I carried a .50-110 single shot rifle 
(that was before the days of the small bore 
smokeless powder guns). I took five or six 
cartridges out of my belt and held them in my 
left hand to be ready for quick shooting, should 
it prove to be bruin; but when I came near 
the edge of the opening I beheld a sight which 
always makes the heart of the hunter rejoice. 
There were about two hundred cow elk 
and younger animals feeding on the open hill¬ 
side, their calves with them and here and there 
a spike bull scattered among the cows and 
yearlings. I took a good look at the location 
and figured out what I thought was the best 
plan to approach them in the morning; then, as 
it was getting dark, I walked quietly away with¬ 
out disturbing them, got my horse and rode 
back toward camp. I had to ride around sev¬ 
eral bunches of old bulls, as I did not wish to 
jump them and have them run in the direction 
of the cows and cause a stampede, for I con¬ 
sidered the place they were in an ideal one for 
an early morning chase. I was thinking all the 
way to camp what a snap we would have the 
next morning. With so many calves in one 
herd we could not help but get four or five out 
of that bunch, even if they were getting pretty 
big. We had good ground to run on and my 
best saddle animal—the sorrel mare I always 
reserved for a hard chase—was at camp and 
fresh for morning. 
I got back to camp just as the other boys had 
finished their supper, and while 1 unsaddled 
and turned my horse loose, they got supper for 
me. When I came around for supper they 
wanted to know what luck I had had. I told 
them I had a bunch already corralled and all we 
bad to do was to pick out the calves we wanted. 
Big Lew said that was the same thing he had 
heard for several days and he believed he would 
go up the south fork, as he had seen three or 
four cows up there that evening. 
As Ed. had to stay at camp to take care of 
the calves we had already caught, it left Still¬ 
man and myself to take in the big bunch. I 
told him all about the location and said I 
thought that if we could turn them toward the 
open country on Cache Creek, we could prob¬ 
ably tie down five or six calves before they 
struck the windfalls on the other side of the 
creek. He thought the plan a good one, and 
said we had better be on the ground at day¬ 
light while the calves were with the cows. So 
we crawled into our tents and soon were fast 
asleep. 
We were out of bed bright and early the 
next morning. Stillman caught and saddled his 
mule while I saddled my sorrel mare. We did 
not wait to get anything to eat but struck out 
for Cache Creek, arriving there without any 
mishap. We jumped several old bulls, but they 
did not run in the direction of the herd we 
were after. Plenty of blacktail deer were feed¬ 
ing in the openings, and as it was full moon, we 
could see them plainly, but they paid little at¬ 
tention to us and we did not bother them. 
After we got close to the place where I had 
seen the herd the night before, and circled 
around above them to get the wind in our 
favor, we rode out to the opening and there 
was the herd, feeding with some of the calves 
bedded and others playing and frisking around 
their mothers like young colts. It was then 
broad daylight and we could see the spots on 
the calves from where we were. We tied our 
saddle animals out of sight and made the dogs 
lie down by them, while we crawled up close 
to map out our programme. 
The herd was across a draw from us about a 
quarter of a mile away and on a gentle sloping- 
hillside which was crowned by a steep rocky 
butte on the upper side, while the foot of the 
hill was covered with a thick growth of jack- 
pines. The draw in front of us had gentle 
sloping sides, but at the bottom there was a 
washout caused by heavy rains and melting 
snows. If we had approached the herd from 
there we would have had to cross this wash¬ 
out, while if we went around the head of the 
draw and approached them from the right we 
could drive them toward the jackpines and that 
was what we wanted to avoid; so the only 
course was to find an easy place to cross that 
washout and then we would have clear sailing. 
While we were looking over the draw to see 
which was the easiest place to cross the wash¬ 
out, Stillman pointed to an object lying in 
the bottom of the draw and on the opposite side 
of the washout from us. He said, “What is 
that? Isn’t it a calf?” 
I could easily make out a calf lying with 
its head turned around on its side. “Sure,” said 
I, “that’s a calf alright, and it is a wonder it 
didn’t see us when we came up and jump the 
whole herd.” 
“Well, now,” replied Stillman, “that puts a 
new face on our scheme. If we try to ride 
across that way that calf will give us dead away.” 
I felt as badly put out as he. I wished we 
could slip down there and tie that lad without 
waking him up, but I did not suppose we could 
do it. “I think I could,” said Stillman. “I 
have been around the Chippewa Indians in 
Minnesota too much not to be able to do a 
little bit of stalking like that. Now, I’ll tell 
you what I’ll do; if you will get your horse 
and get behind that little clump of trees just 
this side of the calf, and have your rope ready. 
I’ll work across the gulch above him and I’ll 
show you how a Chippewa would work it. Then, 
if I should fail, you can jump your horse across 
the washout and rope the calf.” 
“All right,” I said, “I am not averse to play¬ 
ing the cowpuncher act, if you want to play the 
Indian act.” 
I went back and got my horse. Old Jack, the 
dog, wanted to follow when I took the horse, 
and I had a hard time to persuade him to stay, 
but finally I did and got down to where Still¬ 
man was behind the pines without making any 
noise or disturbance whatever. We were then 
completely out of sight of the herd behind the 
roll of the draw, and not over forty feet from 
the calf, which seemed to be asleep. I wondered 
how it came that the old cow cached it so early, 
but concluded it must be a very young calf, or 
it would be with its mother so early in the 
morning. I sat on my horse peering through 
YOUNG GROSBEAK BEGGING TO BE FED. 
Photograph by H. T. Bohlman. 
