Sept. 24. 1910.] 
/ 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
489 
sacks into 1 strips to be used in tying the calves 
should we get any, and everything we could 
think of to insure success was done. 
Our dogs, being of the thin-haired variety and 
not able to stand the cold nights out in the snow, 
were allowed in the cabin. We had two bunks 
made of rails, one on each side of the cabin, and 
before retiring we distributed the dogs, one 
under each bunk and one in the middle of the 
room, to prevent them from fighting and waking 
us up. Some time during the night I heard 
ominous growling from the three different places 
in the cabin, low at first, then increasing in 
volume and intensity, then a sudden rush as by 
a prearranged signal, and the battle was on. The 
music made in a dog fight is out of all propor¬ 
tion to the damage done. We were up in a 
twinkle and, striking matches, flung at the dogs 
the few things in our bunks. Jones hurled an 
overshoe that for size and weight should have 
added considerable pain to this struggling mass, 
but it missed the mark. The terrific din con¬ 
tinued until Morrison fortunately picked up ‘‘The 
Sorrows of Satan,” by Marie Corelli and sent 
it with such force and precision that the racket 
ended there. 
We were up early the next morning preparing 
our breakfast of bacon, flapjacks and coffee. The 
temperature was below zero and a good crust 
had formed on the snow. We hurried with our 
breakfast, and, locking the dogs in the cabin, 
started. A heavy fog hung over the valley and 
we could not tell whether the buffalo were in the 
open or in the timber south of the valley. Pri¬ 
vate Minor was sent across the valley to the 
south side to start the buffalo, for we knew that 
when once disturbed they would head north. 
We waited impatiently for an hour. On the 
north half of the valley the fog rose, but to the 
south it was so dense it resembled a snow bank 
and effectively cut off all view. The sun was up 
and something must be done before the crust 
was melted. Presently we saw a dark object 
moving in the fog opposite Morrison’s station, 
and when it came plain’y into view it proved 
to be Minor, who we had been fondly hoping 
was a mile south of us searching for the buf¬ 
falo. He had evidently lost his way in the fog 
and did not know where to go. Morrison slid 
rapidly down to him from his hill, stopped to 
speak with him a moment, and then disappeared 
in the fog, while Minor climbed the hill and took 
Scout Morrison’s place. 
Again we waited and soon Minor left his sta¬ 
tion and started up to Jones. They held some 
sort of confab, after which Minor took position 
about 500 yards out on the flat in front of Jones. 
This move greatly puzz'ed me, as it would cer¬ 
tainly prevent the buffalo from going in that 
direction. While standing there, cold and shiver¬ 
ing, anxiously waiting, and not knowing what 
would happen when the buffalo did come, I had 
a sneaking hope that they would go Jones’ way. 
Pie evidently had a like hope—that they would 
come to me and seemed to take steps to effec¬ 
tively prevent them from coming his way. 
Suddenly three dull reports sounded from "the 
fog. It was Morrison’s signal that the buffalo 
had been found and that they were coming. I 
removed my jacket and arranged my tying 
strings, which I carried in my belt so I could 
get them quickly, tightened my ski straps and 
waited, but T had not long to wait, for out of 
the foe cam? a long, black line of shaggy look¬ 
ing brutes on a peculiar lumbering, jerky gallop. 
Splashing they went across Pelican Creek, head¬ 
ing for the mouth of the canon, where Jones 
was stationed. I heaved a sigh of relief, but 
suddenly they stopped, for they had seen Minor. 
For a moment they appeared undecided what to 
do, then one of them, evidently a leader, turned 
to the left and headed for Astringent Creek and 
BUFFALO CALVES TIED TO PICKET LINE AT LAKE 
STATION. 
the rest followed. This would bring them past 
my position. They were traveling in Indian file. 
It was evidently difficult going and they changed 
leaders frequently. 
CALVES CAPTURED. 
As they came closer I noticed one calf close 
to the leader. He was perfectly safe as far as 
I was concerned, but behind the herd were two 
little fellows. Although doing their level best 
they were gradually dropping behind. As they 
ON YELLOWSTONE LAKE. 
passed the hill upon which I was standing, they 
were about twenty yards behind, not very far, 
but I could not let the opportunity go by. Wait¬ 
ing until the last buffalo was opposite to me I 
started down the hill with great speed. The 
calves saw me coming in between them and the 
herd became frightened and left the trail. Their 
small feet cut through the Y crust and they were 
floundering helplessly in the snow. My speed 
carried me across their trail, almost throwing me 
when I struck their wallows, but by braking 
hard with my pole I soon stopped and hurried 
back to them. They were close together, and, 
getting in between them, T held them down by 
placing a hand on each. They seemed paralyzed 
with fear, and being unable to do anything in 
the snow, gave up the struggle and lay still. I 
could not let go of one while tying the other, 
for they were so close to the trail that a little 
more struggling would enable them to regain it. 
I couid look up the valley for a mile, but there 
was no one in sight to assist me. 
Looking back over my shoulder to see where 
the herd had gone I saw something that made 
me lose all interest in the calves. It was a buf¬ 
falo cow coming back on the trail with head low¬ 
ered and at a furious gallop. She was quite 
close before I noticed her, and as I was on 
level ground, if it was me she wanted she could 
get me I knew. Buffalo can make wonderfully 
fast time even when the snow is so deep that 
they almost disappear at each jump. In this par¬ 
ticular place the snow was not more than two 
feet deep. Letting go of the calves, I ran, cer¬ 
tainly for all I was worth. With the skis strap¬ 
ped to my feet I was greatly handicapped. I 
felt like one in a dream, and in this great danger 
my feet worked with exasperating slowness. I 
carried a Luger automatic pistol in a holster at 
my belt. It had a disagreeable way of working 
around to my back when traveling and it was 
there now. I jerked it around to the front and 
got the pistol out and ready for action. I would 
only use this as a last resort, but precious as was 
the buffalo’s life, to me mine was more precious. 
Fortunately when she arrived at the calves she 
stopped and nosed them about and pushed one 
back into the trail. It was no doubt her own, 
for she started again at a gallop after the herd, 
the calf following. I at once turned back and 
caught the other calf before he could regain the 
trail. Taking the lower hind and upper front 
legs, I tied them securely together and started 
after the herd. 
As I topped a small hill I saw the other calf 
on a piece of bare ground near Pelican Creek. 
This bare ground was V-shaped with the point 
running toward the river. The herd had crossed 
it, and the stream, and had continued on down 
the south bank. The bare ground evidently puz¬ 
zled the calf, as it left no visible trail for him 
to follow. Heading straight for the narrow 
point I removed my skis and took a position in 
the center, for he would have to come by my 
position. He began smelling the ground like a 
hound, picked up the trail and then came by me 
at such speed that I was helpless. This speed 
surprised me, and it was evident that on bare 
ground he was my master. He swam Pelican 
Creek and started off after the herd. He looked 
comical trying to run and shake himself like a 
dog at the same time. 
I followed, wading almost to my armpits amid 
the chunks of ice that were floating down the 
stream. I was wringing with perspiration, and 
as I entered the water, it made me gasp for 
breath. Following the trail as rapidly as pos¬ 
sible I soon arrived at more bare ground. Here 
the calf, troubled with finding the trail and ex¬ 
hausted, made an attempt to hide. His trail in 
the snow showed that he was headed for a clump 
of timber nearby. As he was nowhere in sight 
I strapped on my skis and fo’lowed, and soon 
found him standing in the deep snow under a 
large pine tree. As I approached him he showed 
fight, rolling his eves and pawing the snow. As 
I got alongside of him. he curled his little tail 
over his hack and began butting at me furiously. 
As I stood on top of the snow he reached only 
to my knees, and being so small could not hurt 
me in the least. 
During this time Morrison had followed down 
