Dec. 25, 1909.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
1017 
Rough and Rugged Santa Clara. 
A hunter’s paradise? This depends entirely 
upon the hunter, his financial circumstances and 
whether a hunter for meat merely or for the 
pleasure there is in it. For the past ten years 
my hunting partner Bill and I have had our 
annual hunt in this canon; sometimes a trip of 
two days only and never more than four or 
five. This season, however, as I was at liberty 
to stay as long as desired, it was agreed that 
I should go on in advance and prospect for 
game, while Bill and my two sons should fol¬ 
low in a few days. Sending word, therefore, to 
one of my Indian friends at the Pueblo of Santa 
Clara, to come up and see me, arrangements 
were made for Aniceto to be on hand with his 
team and wagon Saturday morning to haul my 
bed and grub box and sufficient hay for a saddle 
pony. As the road through the canon is one of 
This put us both in their view and they were 
gone before we could say scat. I sent the In¬ 
dian to camp and climbed to the top of the bluff 
in a vain endeavor again to get a glimpse of 
them. After a weary chase on top of the mesa 
I made my way down to the creek and con¬ 
cluded that I would try calling them. By this 
time it was growing dusk and at the first call 
I got a dozen answers—it seemed right over my 
head. The turkeys had gone to roost, but strain 
my eyes as I might I could not see a single 
bird, though their “quit, quit” could be heard 
close by. Knowing that it would be impossible 
to get one that night, I made for camp and 
found a good fire and supper ready. After lis¬ 
tening to Aniceto’s account of the time that the 
Navajos made their raid down this same canon, 
where they killed two of the Pueblos, we turned 
in for the night. 
Four o’clock found us back at the roost and 
We followed this and found that he had prob¬ 
ably scented or seen us and gone up through 
the rocks. One thing an Indian can do is to 
follow a track. Aniceto might have been after 
this one, yet had we not come to a bad piece of 
dry quaking asp, and as it would have been im¬ 
possible for us to overtake him, I though it bet¬ 
ter to leave the trail and wait for snow. We 
went on up over the high ridge and skirted this 
until we came to another small piece of aspen, 
when away went a deer. Telling Aniceto to 
wait a moment, as there might be another, I 
went forward a few steps and there saw an¬ 
other standing looking directly at me some eighty 
or one hundred yards off. Thinking it a doe, I 
did not shoot and motioning to Aniceto to come 
I showed it to him, saying that it was a doe. 
He looked and said: “No, Mr. P., that buck. 
Sure, Mr. P., he got horns. I see ’em two. 
Mata, mata.” So I took my chances and drop- 
BIRD ROCK, GULF OF ST. LAWRENCE. 
From a photograph of the group in the American Museum of Natural History. 
the worst ever traveled, I did not desire to take 
out my own team. 
Aniceto was on hand bright and early Satur¬ 
day morning and a start was made at 8 o’clock. 
His team, however, were little larger than good- 
sized burros and progress was so slow that noon 
found us at Nine Mile Spring where F. T. W., 
of Las Animas, must have camped last summer 
while on a visit to the cliffs. As ^there were 
turkeys near this point last season I concluded 
to walk a little and warm up. After going but 
a short distance I found turkey tracks and soon 
came to a small grove of trees under which 
there were evidences of a roost. I then and 
there' concluded that we would roost close by 
that night, and camp was made about half a 
mile further on. A little later we loaded up 
with our ammunition and started out to look 
for the turkeys. 
It was late in the afternoon before Aniceto 
spied the bunch on their way from the creek, 
and this is where all of my ideas as to Indian 
hunting prowess vanished. I was out of sight 
of the birds when they were discovered, but 
Aniceto by signs and whistles insisted that I 
come down from the hillside to where he was. 
as a light hunting coat was all that I had worn 
in way of wraps, by the time it was light enough 
to shoot I was just about frozen stiff. About 
five we heard one big fellow fly from one of 
the tall pines, and shortly after we called, and 
they all came to life in a hurry. After some 
time a careful look was taken over the big rock 
behind which I was seated, and I could just 
make out the forms of four or five out of gun 
shot, however. Fearing that the bunch would 
gather at this point and drift off in an opposite 
direction, I began to call them. Others now 
flew down and joined the bunch and all started 
in my direction, finally coming within reach of 
my good gun, and presently with two fine birds 
over my shoulder I marched back to camp with 
all that the law allows for one day’s kill. 
To pack up and move on to our destination 
was the next thing in order and it was an all 
day’s job. 
On Monday after settling our beds and grub 
in the little cabin some twenty miles up in the 
canon, we set out to look for deer. We had 
not gone over one mile before, in the trail that 
we were following, we spied the track of a small 
bear that had passed a very short time before. 
ped him—a very short-pronged yearling. This 
was very good for a starter and we packed him 
in the next day. 
On that day I went to look for turkeys, but 
was unable to find any fresh tracks. I did, how¬ 
ever, jump a doe that trotted off through the 
heavy spruce, and joined two more that were 
standing about one hundred hards off. One of 
these finally lay down, and through an opening 
I could see her in full view. All were does. 
The next day in going through the heavy timber 
I noticed off to my left a picture puzzle that 
at last took shape and I made out the form of 
a deer quite near me. I sat down on the pine 
needles and watched her, and could see her chew 
her cud like a cow. A magpie was flitting 
around her and actually lit on the doe’s back 
twice, while I watched her. Finally I started * 
up and another which I had not seen came for¬ 
ward and both trotted off through the timber 
seemingly not very much frightened. 
The next day, expecting the boys and Bill, I 
sent my Indian home, and about 5 o’clock, hear¬ 
ing a noise in the road, I looked out and found 
them with the team only, having broken the 
front axle to their wagon about three miles 
