10 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
| 
[Jan. 6, 1906. 


GOOD GAME COUNTRY. 
Photo by E. F. Randolph. 
conscious that we were not unperceived, for a 
great number of elk began to move among 
the trees, having evidently “spotted” us. We 
made at once for concealment and ran as fast as 
we could through the deep snow to an open place 
toward which the herd were heading. Carefully 
hidden from view we saw a great brown mass 
thunder past, and before it had disappeared from 
sight I caught a glimpse of the precious set of 
antlers belonging to the bull I shot at carried in 
triumph out of sight. They appeared but for a 
moment in the narrow opening in which the in- 
tended victim was well.protected by cows, which 
formed a perfect wall of flesh which no bullet 
could pierce and speed on to its mark. We made 
another run under concealment in the hope of 
being able to come upon the herd again in case 
it should halt, which it did. In an open space on 
the farther side of the mountain we confronted 
the elk at close quarters. The rapid traveling in 
the deep snow over rough country left me very 
much exhausted; the first object that attracted 
the attention of the guide and myself was a large 
bull of twelve points at very close range. I 
thought in the hurry of the moment my vision 
perhaps being blurred by nervous strain and ex- 
haustion that it was the same magnificent speci- 
men J had shot at before and was trying to se- 
cure, and the animal’s position—turned quarter- 
ing toward me—aided the decention. I soon dis- 
covered the mistake, however, my attention being 
called by the guide to another bull, which proved 
to be the one I so earnestly desired. I brought 
my rifle in position to draw a bead on a vital 
spot, but the bull was immediately blanketed by 
several cows running between. If I could have 
had a clear range the shot would have been about 
the easiest I ever had, but the faithful cows with 
their calves swarmed around their lord and I be- 
held with disappointment as fine a pair of antlers 
as I ever saw borne safely out of sight. The old 
bull must have evidently believed that “there is 
safety in numbers.” 
There is another disadvantage in encountering 
= yreat quantity of game when attempting to se- 
cure a good trophy; each animal, however poor 
a head it may possess, has generally a good pair 
of eyes, a keen scent and excellent hearing. Each 
addition to a herd is another sentinel, always on 
duty and ready at any moment to sound the 
alarm. On a previous hunting trip, when the elk 
were not nearly so plentiful, I got the heads I 
wanted in less time. I cannot place the blame 
for the trouble I had in securing my heads on the 
cows entirely. 
A couple of days before the scarlet-letter-day 
of my hunt I fired at a fine bull in a gulch quite 
a distance off; he immediately quickened his pace 
and was soon out of range. I glanced at my rifle 
and I found that the elevation of the sight had 
been misplaced, being ranged for fifty yards. I 
think it is best to have the sight of a high power 
gun with a very flat trajectory sighted for 100 
yards, and to draw a fine or coarse sight on the 
object as occasion may require. We examined 
the spot where the bull had been seen when fired 
at and discovered a sprinkling of blood along his 
tracks. Tying the horses we started to follow 
the trail on foot. The course the bull took 
favored the higher elevations more than the de- 
pressions, which was a bad sign; so with grave 
misgivings we continued the pursuit. The in- 
creasing signs of blood inspired us with hope; 
here and there he occasionally stood, as was evi- 
dent from the quantity of blood and the character 
of the impression his feet made in the snow. In 
other respects the signs were disappointing; the 
tracks showed no indication of weakness, and 
frequently led us across high fallen trees and 
along steep places, where I followed with diff- 
culty; the blood, although quite plentiful, was a 
light red, and not the dark color which would be 
discharged were some vital spot injured; finally, 
after traveling about six miles, the flow of blood 
began to lessen. At length we reached a point 
where he entered a tract of thick timber, evi- 
dently in a walk; we concluded that it was best 
not to pursue him in this retreat, because his 
slow pace might indicate exhaustion and a dispo- 
sition to lay down. The only hope I had of se- 
curing him would be in case of his lying down 
and becoming stiff from his wound and not being 
able to get up. We concluded to allow plenty of 
time for this to happen. The guide made a cir- 
cuit around the timber and could discover no 
trace of his having emerged from it. We then 
went back to the horses and rode to camp. The 
succeeding day we returned to the spot, traced 
>the steps of the elk to a place where he had lain 
down, and saw a slight discoloration of the snow 
where his brisket had touched it, his tracks led 
beyond, and all signs of bleeding had ceased, All 
our trouble had been in vain because of an im- 
properly arranged sight. 
By this time I had been about ten days in camp 
and was growing quite accustomed to the life. 
Although the weather was quite cold, at times 
going to eight or ten below zero at night, yet it 
often grew warm enough during the day to thaw, 
but it was dry, light atmosphere and always brac- 
ing. Every night for a brief interval we were 
treated to a serenade from the coyotes, a ridicu- 
lous, wild and unearthly chant, which became a 
positive nuisance when the dogs undertook an 
accompaniment right at our ears. Occasionally 
a bull elk feeding during the full of the moon 
would cause the cold atmosphere to vibrate with 
his shrill whistle as he loped past the camp. In 
all other respects we were entirely alone for the 
twenty-two days I stayed in camp except one, 
when the game warden dropped in to look at my 
license, and after a brief stay took his departure. 
How different this was from most of the hunting 
in the East, where the number of sportsmen have 
become so great as to render the pastime almost 
as dangerous for the hunter as it is for game. 
Particularly is this the case when “green sports- 
men” persist in shooting at anything that moves 
without first finding out what it is. My guide 
expressed his surprise at the number of acci- 
dents which occur every year in the Adirondacks 
through gross carelessness. He remarked that 
he believed it would be best if one were hunting 
in the Adirondacks and saw anything moving in 
the brush to shoot without waiting to find out 
what it was, because the chances are that it 
would be a man, and if you did not shoot him 
he would shoot you. I was rather amused at this 
piece of grim humor, which is a sample of what 
he generally had on tap. 
The sun dawned auspiciously upon what 
proved to’be my luckiest day in camp. For some 
days I had hunted diligently without securing 
the heads that would satisfy me. We had not 
journeyed over three miles from camp before we 
saw a large bull at quite a distance move into a 
thickly wooded valley. We turned our course 
in that direction, keeping out of view as much 
as possible, riding along a hill which overlooked 
the valley into which the bull had taken refuge. 
We came to an open and slightly undulating 
country, which was covered with about eighteen 
inches of snow, and gave evidence that quite a 
number of elk had recently passed that way, and 
about 500 yards off a herd with several good 
heads. The country was quite open, but broken 
up with thick clumps of spruce trees here and 
there. To get nearer the herd it became neces- 
sary to cross quite an open space, but by a timely 
maneuver of the guide we traveled under cover 
until we reached a point where a thick clump of 
trees standing out in the open space obstructed 
the view between us and the elk. We then rode 
out in the “open’’ toward the clump of trees, 
which concealed us from view. Having gained 
this point, which was about 175 to 200 yards 
from the herd, I dismounted and stepped out in 
the clearing. The cows again provokingly ran 
between me and the largest bull, which I had 
marked as my own. Fortunately, the cows ran 
ahead and I got a quartering view of the large 
bull. The bright reflection of the sun on the 
snow made it somewhat difficult to fully distin- 
guish the body of the animal in the dense mov- 
ing mass, but I succeeded in locating it. Draw- 
ing a fine sight on my Mauser I fired. The en- 
tire herd disappeared over the crest of the hill. 
The guide, who by this time had mounted his 
horse, cried, “You have got a bull.” I asked 
him if it was the “big one,” he replied, “I don’t 
know.” In the confused and changing mass it 
was indeed difficult to keep track of any partic- 
ular one. We urged the horses to their utmost 
speed; the antlers of the bull continued growing 
larger to the view as we drew near. Finally, 
with an exclamation of satisfaction, the guide 
slipped off his horse and congratulated me upon 
the kill, ‘“The largest head in the bunch.” It 
was indeed a fine bull, with a spread just short 
of four feet. There were twelve points on the 
antlers, six tines on each side. The bullet had 
lodged a little back of the shoulder and the ani- 
mal had dropped without a struggle. In the 
