E[\im BY ^^OHAVEHVi^^'^^ THE GIFT OF FLORENCE V. V. DICKEY TO THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES THE DONALD R. DICKEY i LIBRARY OF VERTEBRATE ZOOLOGY Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2007 witii funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation littp://www.arcliive.org/details/biggameofnortliaOOsliieiala ^^^^^^^^v^ uf. \//U^^ /, ^'i/' "Z^'^^'^Y, THE Big Game of North America. ITS HABITS, HABITAT, HAUNTS, AND CHARACTERISTICS; HOW, WHEN, AND WHERE TO HUNT IT. JuDGK John Dean Caton, Newton Hibbs ("Roxey Newton"), W. A. Pekry ("Sillalicum"), Wm. p. Lett ("Algoncjuin"), Arthur W. Du Bray ("Gaucho"), Walter M. Wolfe ("Shoshone"), Rev. Joshua Cooke ("Boone"), T. S. Van Dyke, Wm. B. Lef- FiNGWELL, T. G. Farrell, Dr. R. B. Cantrell, Col. Geo. D. Alexander, M. E. Allison, Rev. Dr.W. S. Rainsford, C. A. Cooper ( "Sibyllene"), Dr. M. G. Ellzey, J. C. Nattrass, Orin Belknap ("Uncle Fuli-er"), H. Biederbick, John Fannin, Sergt. Francis Long, Daniel Arrowsmith ("Sangamon"), Cyrus W. Butler, and A. G. Requa. Edited by^ G: O. SHIELDS ("Coquina"), AUTHOR OF "CRUISINGS IN THE CASCADES," "RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES," "HUNTING IN THE ORKAT WEST," "camping AND CAMP OUTFITS," "THE BATTLE OF THE BIG HOLE," ETC. chicago and new york: Rand, McNally &. Company, Publishers. 1890. CJOPTHIGHT, 1890, BY Q. O. SHIEIiDt. All rights reserved. Big Gaint. >- I desire to express thus publicly my gratitude to. my collaborators for the prompt and generous manner in which they have responded to my requests for contributions to this work. For any one man to produce a book of the scope and size of this, would require the work of many years, and then it could not be so complete as this. It is only by the hearty and sympathetic cooperation of such ardent sportsmen, trained naturalists, and big-hearted men as those composing my staff, that so comprehensive and valuable a work as this is possible. They have done the world a service o^ great and lasting value, and one for which all lovers of nature should feel as grateful to them as does The Editor. Chicago, May, 1890. (5) fi— Sdbi?*- CONTENTS PAOC rNTRODUCnOK The Honorable John Dean Caton, 11 Author of "The Antelope and Deer of America," "A Summer in Norway," etc. MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. Newton Hibbs (" Roxey Newton "). IT ELK-HUNTING IX THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. . W. A. Perry C"Si7Ia/icun»"). 45 THE WAPITI (Poem) " Wah-bah-mi-mi. " 71 THE CARIBOU WiLLiAif PiTTMAN Lett (".-l/pongum"). 73 THE WOODLAND CARIBOU Dr. R. B. Cantrell. 107 THE MULE DEER Rev. Joshia Cooke ("Boojje"). 137 THE MULE DEER OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. T. S. Van Dyke, 173 Author of "The Still Hunter." etc. THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. .... Thomas G. Farrkll. 115 THE VIRGINIA DEER Walter M. Wolfe (" .SVios/ione"). 185 A DEER-HUNT (Poem) 'Wah-bah-mi-mi." 201 HUNTIN(J THE GRIZZLY BEAR W. S. Raispford. D. D. 303 THE POLAR BEAR Serot. Kranci.s Long. 229 of the Greely Arctic Expetlition. ami George S. McTavish, of the Hudson's Bay Company. A POLAR BEAR HUNT. 24t THE BLACK BEAR Col. George D. Alexander. 347 THE BL'FFALO Orix Belknap (" f'/if/f Fii//er "). '.rr9 THE MUSK-OX . . H. Biederbick, ;«8 of the Gret»ly Arctic Exf>eHUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 25 The coat of this Moose was almost black. Along the back, however, was a brown tinge, where the coat had begun to fade from exposure to the weather. The Moose, in his best form, is black; but I have never found one over two years old which did not carry some faded tufts of his old coat till his new coat became rusty from wear. A hunter, whom I timidly disjiute, not because I do not know him to be wrong, but because his records of hunting- adventures are widely read, tells of killing Moose with a hand-ax, after running them down in the deep snow. This may have been done in Maine or Canada, but if so, it proves to my mind that the Moose there do not possess the same wild, savage, pugnacious natures as those found in the Rocky Mountains, for surely no sane man would dare to attack one of our vicious mountain Moose, single- handed, with any weapon short of a rej^eating-rifle, and before doing that he should be sure that he can control his nerves perfectly in the face of danger. In one instance, some men attacked one of our wild bulls without a rille, but it cost two of them their lives. A few years ago, a party of river-men wounded a large Moose near the bank of Clear Water River, in Idaho, and it took to the water. The eager, but unskilled, hunters rushed upon the wounded animal with a bateau. It was a large boat, and was manned by six strong and fearless men. They were either without a gun in the boat, or scorned to use one, but determined to kill the Moose with axes, cant-hooks, and other woodsman's implements. They bore down by the side of the swimming Moose, which was kept in the cur- rent by walls of rocks, and dealt him a blow. This inter- ference made him more desperate, and he turned to fight. The men were brave, in a bateau that would stem the rapids of Clear Water River with a cargo of three tons aboard; so they rushed to the battle with shouts of defiance. The Moose struck the boat with his antlers, and raised it clear out of the water, turning it upside down so quickly that the men were all frightened and stunned, and t\^'o of them were either killed or drowned. The other four were 26 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. rescued by their companions on shore, after the Moose had been shot several times. Tliese incidents convince me that a man can not successfully battle with a Western Moose hand to hand — at least, not in the water. The question of the best rifle to use in hunting Moose can not be settled to the satisfaction of all hunters by any one writer, for there is a great diversity of opinion on the subject of guns. There are, however, some essential re- quirements that may be stated in general terms. The rifle, to give satisfaction to the Moose-hunter, or any other hunter of large game, must be accurate, effective, and capable of rax)id manij)ulation. Hunters of long experience shoot mechanically, and not with conscious deliberation. For such marksmen no gun is like the old gun, worn and rusty from faithful service. To such veterans I raise my hat, but offer no advice. Their success makes them honorary sports- men in everj' society, and also makes their word law with amateurs. There is, however, one maxim that no thinking man will dispute, and that is, that the new guns are better than the old ones, simply because modern rifle- makers have profited by the experience of their predeces- sors. The improvements in lifles in the past few years, have been the greatest success of the scientific world. It is unnecessary to note here the steps in the evolution from the old flint-lock to the perfect repeater of to-day. This has all been gone over in other works. Being called ux)on to choose the l)est gun for Moose-hunting, my vote would be cast for the new Colt's Lightning Rei^eater, forty cal- iber, using sixt\^ grains of powder and two hundred and sixty grains of lead, twenty-eight-inch barrel, ten pounds weight, and carrying ten shots. This gun I unhesitatingly pronounce the most perfect in lialance, the safest from premature explosions, capal)le of the .most rapid work, and the least apt to fail to fire when subjected to the test of heat and to the manipulations of unsteady hands. The arrangements for working the gun with the left hand, while the right hand and right shoulder support it, almost without disturbing the aim, is the most important advan- MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 27 tage this gun has over any others that I have seen. It enables the oj)erator to shoot more rapidly, when accuracy is considered, than the common lever-actions do. AVitli any of the new repeating-rifles, however, all that is needed to do good work is good Judgment, a good eye, and a steady nerve. I do not believe in the heavy guns of large caliber. Even for a Grizzly Bear, I would use no larger than a forty caliber. This, however, is a disputed point. Men with more experience than I have had use the larger rifles. It is generally admitted that the best place to shoot any big game is through the shoulders. The Buffalo-hunt- ers discovered long ago that those large animals were most certainly secured by firing at their strong and bulky shoulders. With the Moose this is surely the best policy. Their shoulders are massive and their chests are very deep, so that there is danger of shooting too high. The advice of the most successful hunters, with whom I have associated, is to shoot low, and well forward. A bullet througli the lungs is nearly as effective as one through the heart. This rule should govern in shooting Deer, Bears, and all other large game. In the winter of 1884, I established a camp in the Teton Basin, at that time an unsettled region. The high, tim- bered Teton Range of mountains was, and is yet, well stocked with game, and the wild meadows of the basin afforded then, but not now, excellent winter range for Moose, Elk, and Deer. In the fall, the Deer came to the low lands with the first snow; the Elk followed them as soon as the depth was increased to two feet or more; and then the Moose would come when the crust formed on the snow in the mountains. The Moose is as thoroughly at home in soft snow as he is in the water; but when the heavy crusts form, he retreats, and seeks more favorable feeding-grounds. My cabin was the first landmark of civilization in that now thickly settled valley. We had killed Deer, in season, till we were sup- plied with meat to last all winter. Then came the Elk, and 28 HKi (iAME OF NORTH AMERICA. they were so tempting that we were moved to go iu search of tlie lirst tliat appeared. We killed two of the choicest to be found. This meat, too, we placed in our larder, for the sake of variety. A month later, Moose were reported, by one of the trap- pers, to be plentiful half a mile uj) the creek. The story he told of the great, shaggy beasts lilled us with the spirit of the chase. We must have a Moose's nose. No other article of diet that we could think of possessed such cliann for our party, just then, as the Moose's nose; and a Moose's nose we must have. The snow was only about a foot deep, so we tramped out along the trails, in the old-fashioned way, for a still-hunt. To our surprise, we found the game very plentiful, and a^s tame, almost, as domestic cattle. They evidently had taken possession of the winter range that had been theirs exclusively for ages, and seemed undisturbed by intrusion. The first Moose encountered was a cow. She wore a shaggy, faded coat and a sickly look, so we did not kill her. She moved lifelessly, like a i)oor domestic cow. She moped about, and secluded herself in the willows where she had been browsing. We consulted, and decided that she must be sick; but imagine our surprise when the next one. a' bull, was discovered trying to conceal himself in a clump of willows. We were all so near together that each waited for the other to projjose the manner of attack; so one of the boys, being inexi)erienced and noted for his bad marksman- shif), was detailed to shoot the poor old bull, some of the more generous sportsmen declaring themselves too kind- heai-ted to shoot a sick animal. At the crack of the boy's riHe, the great, rough-coated mountain-monarch reeled and, with a groan that was half a cry of agony, fell heavily to the gioiind. lie was found to be in line condition for the winter season. We feasted on humi), and discussed the peculiar action of the game we saw tiiat day, until far into the night; they were so dilferent from the slv animals we had hunted in MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 29 other seasons, and amid different surroundings. We after- ward noted, however, that the Moose, when driven from his timbered mountain home to the valleys, where he remained a few weeks, seemed to leave his shyness behind. This characteristic has been noted several times since. There were forty Moose counted near our cabin that winter. On one occasion, a bull Moose passed through Rexburg, Idaho, a town of considerable size. He went on through Elgin and other thickly settled neighborhoods. He was followed by more than one hundred men, and killed without more than the trouble necessary to butcher a beef steer. My conclusions are, from these seemingly contradictory traits of this animal, that he loses, to a great degree, the sense of fear upon changing from the familiar haunts, where he passes the greater part of his life, in the solitude of the forest, to the scenes so different in the valleys, where the marches of hunger enforce a temporary sojourn. During the winter that I was the only householder in the Teton Basin, the Moose became so familiar with the surroundings that they passed around the house at night so closely that we could hear them tramping in the snow, and their fresh tracks were seen every morning within easy gunshot range of the house. They became so tame that the trappers often encountered them in their morning rounds, and they made no effort to escape. They were feeding on the dry grass and willows along the little river. They would wade in the water where it splashed over the rocks and did not freeze, in search of the sprigs of green water-plants and strings of moss that trailed in the water below the submerged rocks. The Moose would wade about when the cold wind blew, and icicles would hang from their coarse, long hair in great white spears. It is the delight of the Moose to paddle in the water even in winter. One of our trappers, while time rested heavily on his hands, in our camp on the Teton River, decided to try to catch a Moose in a snare. He provided himself with a one and a quarter inch manilla rope, and selected a trail a 30 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. hundred yards from tlie house as the place to make the experiment. The rope was securely fastened to a cotton- wood tree, and the noose was hung from small willows, directly over the well-tramped trail, at such a height as to allow the Moose to pass his head through and at the same time to carry the lower part of the noose forward above his knees till it caught him securely around the neck. The lirst night rewarded the lucky trapper, inasmuch as the success of his scheme was demonstrated. His work was well done, but the game was too strong for the trap. The rope, which would have held tlie strongest team of horses, on a dead pull, was snapi)ed by the Moose, and the fright- ened beast ran over hills and plains, dragging the rope after him. The mark it made was seen up and down the valley, wherever the trappers went, for a month. The Moose, in his rounds of feeding, dragged the long rope through the water and through the snow in turns, till it became a ro])e of ice that made a track in the snow as if he were dragging a log. It must have been a great burden for the Moose to pull around, yet all winter tlie track was seen, where it crossed and recrossed the Teton Basin. How the poor brute ever got rid of his trade-mark, or whether he is still wearing it, no one knows. 1 1 was a new rope, and would last him for years if not uulotided by some lucky chance. The Clear Water River has its source in the heavy forests of the Bitter Root Range of mountains, and its many trib- utaries drain the best feeding-grounds for the Moose to be found in any part of our country. The gold-hunters, in tlu'ir excursions, pass through the silent wilderness, but they go and ('(mie without disturbing the game. So rugged are the rocky canons of these mountains that hunters sel- dom iHMietrate to the region of the lakes along the summit, and tilt' Moose l)reed there yeai' after year in comparative safety. From these game-preserves the Moose never migrate in winter in lierds, as they do from the more bar- ren regions farther south. There are no little valleys to invite settlement high u[) in the Bitter Root Range, so the encroachments ai-e not so destructive to the game in these MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 31 northern ranges as they are near the National Park and in the fertile valleys of the Snake River. It is upon the trib- utaries of Clear Water River that the sportsman, ten years hence, may expect to find Moose in numbers that will insure good sport to reward endurance and patience. Any man who can lay claim to the name of sportsman can reasona- bly expect to find a Moose in two or three days of still hunting in the Clear Water region, either now or ten years from this date. The Moose supply in that wilderness will be practically inexhaustible — as much so, at least, as in the forests of Maine. The best season for Moose-hunting in the mountains of the Far West is October and November. The first snow- fall, on the mountains, may be expected in November, and if the hunter is not discouraged by the hardships sure to come with the first storms of winter, he would do well to take advantage of that season, as that, too, is about the time the bulls go forth to battle for the favors of the females. This is the season in which the native hunters, in the north- eastern woods, are said to use the birch-bark horn with such terrible results to the unsuspecting game. The horn has never been used in the Rocky Mountains, to my knowledge, and I have never heard any such noise here as is attributed to the Moose in the woods of Maine and Canada. The cow Moose, I have reason to believe, never utters a cry of any kind, here, and the bull of our region simply whistles, like the Elk and Deer. I have often heard them make their challenges and utter their calls, but it was simply a whistle, such as a boy might make by blowing between his fingers, though coarser, and not prolonged or repeated. My first experience with the call of the Moose was on the Upper Clear Water River, ten years ago. I was in camp in the dense cedar forests of that great wilderness, and was not expecting to see large game. I thouglit the whistle which echoed from the canon, a quarter of a mile away, was the challenge of a black-tailed buck, and I went out to meet him with an antiquated Henry ritie of the lightly charged pattern. The gun was old, as well as lightly 32 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. cliarged, and was kept coated with dust and rough with rust by the owner, who did not know that better guns had been made in hiter times. I went forth to secure venison, uncertain as I was of the accuracy of the sights, as well as of the powers of the rifle's execution, and, half in a spirit of experiment, blew upon my hands as I had learned to do when a boy, after I had failed to locate the game just where I expected to find it. To my surprise, I heard the crackling of the brush within gunshot, the animal that caused it coming nearer. "I will kill the Deer," I thought, and w^as soon in position, with the approaches well guarded. Sure enough, a dark form passed in view, but it was too large and too dark for a Deer. "It is a mule," I thought; but no! his gleaming antlers appeared in full view. I knew the stranger then, but was undetermined what to do. It was folly to shoot so far at a Moose with that little old pop-gun, so I waited. The Moose came blindly on, sniffing the air and beating the brush with his wide-spread antlers, as if enraged and ready for battle. He came witliin thirty yards, standing with his great, bulky form above a log which lay between us. He stood stock-still, as if listening, and I feared he would hear my heart beat; but I controlled myself, drew a steady bead with the coarse sight on the butt of his ear, and hred. The bullet penetrated his brain; he dropped like a beef, and was dead when I reached him. This Moose came at the call, but I believe he would have come at any other signal just as promptly. In fact, I have since heard of a bull Moose approaching camp a|)parently in response to the bray of a mule. These beasts are full of light when they are on these excursions, and they would almost fight a buzz-saw if it came in their way. I offer these suggestions in exijlanation of the success attending the use of the birch-bark horn. The Moose approaches the source of the noise in a fit of rage at the intrusion, not knowing or caring what or who it is, and not because he is deceived, nor yet because the noise of the horn is an imitation of the Moose language. MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 33 The cow Moose does not grow bold like the bull who is so ready to battle for her in the fall of the year. Further- more, it is only durinc; one short month that the antlered monarch of the woods is brave to defend his mate. After the rutting-season he abandons the cows, and, in companj" with other bulls as sullen and ungainly as himself, retires to the most secluded lairs, and there skulks in cowardice — afraid of his own shadow. All winter long the bulls are found in i^airs or in herds, with no cows or young about. They remain separated till the calves are well grown and are able to run from danger by the side of the mother. While the young are small, they do not depend upon flight to escape an enemy. They are effectively guarded from beasts of prey by the mother. She will drive Wolves, Beai's, and Mountain Lions in disorder from the field. When a man apx)roaches the secluded bedding-ground, the mother silently steals away. She leaves the helpless young to hide in the ferns or chaparral; and well it hides, too. At tlie signal of the departing mother Moose, who caresses it with her nose, and may be breathes her ' ' God bless you ' ' in its ear, the little creature becomes, in looks, a part of its surroundings, and the hunter might step over it as a life- less, moss-covered stone or piece of wood. In 1885, I spent the month of June on the St. Joseph River, in the Ca?ur d' Alene Mountains, and I had there an experience with a young Moose which might be of interest to sportsmen. It is a beautiful country for a hunter to spend the summer in. There are great forests, dark and cool with shade; there are lakes and streams alive with mountain trout; and there are Deer, Bears, Elk, and Moose in numbers to make glad the heart of the most sordid plodder. An English gentleman, with enthusiasm and cash, filled me with the desire to find a Moose in the velvet and in the gloss of a summer coat. We procured a camj) outfit, and sought the head-waters of the little St. Joseph River, There we found a great park of giant pines, the ground beneath all carpeted with soft ferns and velvety moss. The 34 BIO GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. sun liad no power to darken the pale-green ferns, and the wind never l)Iew to tangle the slender fronds. The moist ground was untracked, except by the cautions feet of the Avild creatures of the woods, and all was silent, as if no eclioes slumbered in those bowers. We spread our camp on the soft, sweet floor of the green-canopied and tree- studded home of the gods, and rested. Rich was the peace of solitude for a night. In tlie morning we were longing for adventure, like rest- less spirits in a new world, and went forth commissioned to explore and to conquer the denizens of that Arcadixin-like land of summer loveliness. We tramped far, far through an outstretclied. unchanged expanse of forest, without sat- isfactory results as to the linding of big game. There were dozens of that species of grouse known as the fool lien, with its staring red eyes and stupid habit of sitting like a bronze image on limbs and logs, even within reach of our hands. There were other wonders for the appreciative Englishman to admire, but he was determined to see a live Moose in its native haunts, and notiiing less would satisfy his longing. Finally, when he Avas sex")ara ted from me about a quarter of a mile, I heard his deej) voice in tones of agitation. I hastened to his aid. and found him standing with gun presented, a model for an artist, demanding an answer to his unintelligible '' What is it i" He was i)ointing into a tangle of ferns near his feet, that was as dense as the rank clover ill a rich meadow. 1, as with an echo, answered, "What is it r' when by his side I saw a crouching little animal, with glossy ])iown coat, Iving low and still as a frightened fawn. We could not at first determine what it was, but its innocent eyes stayed our hands before we pulled the trigger. Xo, we could not shoot the crouching, beautiful ci'eature. "Ah."' said the athletic foreign spoi'tsman, "I will capture the l)l()()(ly tiling! "" and handing his ritie to me. he sprauu' upon it like u lion upon a lamb. A cry went up and echoed through the trees, plaintive, like the voice of MOOSE-IIUNTING IX THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 35 a child in distress. It was not coarse, like the bleat of a calf, but seemed to have a softer and more pathetic tone, suggestive of humanity. Its struggles were vain in the arms of its captor. It was being subdued rapidly, when a rush was heard, and the mother Moose appeared with a fury that made us sick at heart. The mad beast was sur- prised, liowever, at the manner of foe she encountered, and she stopi)ed in trembling doubt before rushing to battle in defense of her pleading offspring. In self-defense, I shot the old Moose dead in her tracks, and felt guilty as of a crime a moment later. We retained the calf captive. Our pet was brown in color, with a tinge of rust along the back and down half- way on the sides. The parts of the body less exposed to the weather were nearly black, and reflected a silky glossiness. The coloi', as a whole, was not pleasing. Like all the other Moose I have seen, it had the ding}^ look of a partly faded coat. It Avas as large as a month-old calf. Its head was large, and had the appearance of being too heavy for its long neck; and its nose had a well-developed, ungainly lump. Its head and ears were decidedly mulish in appearance. Its legs, especially the hind legs, were long, and did duty with a drag of tardiness: but the hind leiis seemed to furnish nearly all the motive power. It would stand sometimes on its hind legs, like a Kangaroo, and look about, and bleat in that pitiful, half -human tone, which often caused us to regret that we had not left it with its mother. It was restless, and seemed to be untamable. We detained it by building a pen so designed as to guard against injury to its tender body, but it literally '"beat against the bars'' every moment of its captivity. AVe hastened out of the mountains with it to a ranch, and pro- cured ndlk for it. There we arranged a good stable, and gave it tender care; but it kept i\]) its fretting ways. It would walk from one end of its stall to the other continu- alh% never resting and never sleeping, to our knowledge. At each end of the inclosure it would rise wp on its hind legs and bleat, and then turn about to rex3eat the same di^ - 3(i BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. tressing action and pitiful cry at tlie other extremity of its prison. It lived two weeks, and died of a broken heart. The sorrowing Englishman gave it a burial in a i)retty, shady place, such as he thought it longed for in life. Near the northern l)oundary of Idaho is what is knowli as tli<^ Lake Region. Within a ladius of seven miles may be seen fourteen beautiful tarns, every one the reserve source of a rushing, mad, mountain river, which has a deep, rocky canon for a bed, leading ultimately to the same destina- tion— to the great wide and winding Columbia, that redeems a broad desert and iinds rest in the sea. Near these lakes is a wilderness that gives the Moose the solitude and shelter he loves, and tine groves of deciduous trees to feed upon, when water-plants are locked in winter's keeping. The Moose in the Lake Region of Idaho do not seek the valleys in winter. Here, as in Canada, they form yards, and beat down the snow in the quaking aspen groves. They have never been hunted there in winter, to my knowledge, the Indians preferring to subsist on the meat of the Elk and Deer, which are found not so remote from their valley homes. The Indian is not an epicure. He enjoys most the food that is easiest to secure. Any flesh is meat for an Indian's larder, the only fear he feels being that he may not get enough of it. In tlie winter of 1885, I crossed a mountain divide, from a mining-camp near Coeur d'Alene Lake, in search of a Moose. I went alone, as no other idle man in camp was willing to climb a mountain, on snow-shoes, that would recpiire a circuitous run of seven miles to gain the sum- mit The snow was only about flfteen inches deep, and the mild weather warranted the belief that a Moose would be fat and the best of fresh meat. In fact, like other hn-ers of the chase, I was prolilic of arguments that con- vinced me that I should go a-hunting; and a-hunting I did go. When, after five liours of hard labor, I gained the bl"ak sununit. a cutting wind cooled my enthusiasm. I shuddered at the horroi's of a winter blizzard nine thousand MOOSE-IIUXTING IN THE KOOKY MOUNTAINS. 37 feet above the sea. I could now turn one way and reach the camp again in an hour, or I could turn the other, face the gale, and probably find a Moose. I decided to continue the hunt. The high mountain where I stood was without timber, but on the little plateau a mile away was a dense growth of willows and small cpiaking aspen trees. It was an ideal wintering-ground for a Moose. I could risk a run of a mile or two, even in a blizzard; so I took a cautious turn through the wind-tossed and sighing, leafless little trees. One mile, then two, were covered, and no game to encourage me; but just as I passed the XDoint I had fixed for the place to turn back, I found a Moose-trail. Of course, I knew the next depression and the next clump of bushes was the hiding-x)lace of the game; so I sped on and on. At last I routed a lone Moose, and the direction he took was favorable to my early return to camp should I choose to abandon the chase. , After a turn over the bleak divide, 1 saw the animal going on that deceptive swinging trot, but he was making for the low land and the river. There was a favorable incline for a snow-shoe run that no horse could equal for speed. I Avas confident that I could run near enough to shoot the Moose, even if the snow was not deep enough to interfere with his Maud S. gait. I was successful in cutting off his course toward the woods and in turning him down the hill, I nerved myself for a terrific run, and determined, if possible, to approach near enougli to shoot the big brute while at full speed. The mark was large, and I was armed with a good repeating- ririe. In ten seconds I could slioot four or five bullets into vital parts of such a large aninuil. I made the run, with the wind against me, and after the greatest effort came up to the side of the frightened Moose, but, to my great consternation, found that I could not shoot. I could not even let go of my pole, for I was unable to stand, so the Moose gained the valley, and before I could steady myself to slioot he was far out of range. I do not l)elieve a horse could have run as fast as that Moose ran across that valley to the timber along the river. 38 BIO gamp: of north America. I was too tired to return to camp that night, and fortune favored me to tlie extent that I was given slielter by a kind- hearted Indian. I was fed on smoked lish and smoked venison, and sk'pt in a bed of smoked skins; but fatigue and hunger give Havor to food, and make even an Indian's bunk a soft and sweet bed. On Christmas-day, 1883, and during the following week, I had some thrilling experiences with Moose in the deep snow on the mountains at the head of Warm River, one of the tributaries of the Snake, in Idaho. I had established a winter camj) in that isolated but picturesque mountain region. The snow was four feet deep on Christmas-day, and soft and level as the grass in a meadow. Our meat-sux)ply was reduced to a limited quan- tity of strong l)acon, and that w^as incentive sufficient to hasten my movements to secure some fresh and choice roasts suited to the tastes of a hunter. Only a nuVn accus- touKHl to the snow-shoe would undertake an excursion over mountains and canons Avith four feet of soft snow on the ground; but. Avitli the experience of the mountaineer, no l)etter conditions could be desired when Elk or Moose. are th<' game to ])e hunted. I was out early, even in that hour when trees and rocks sua]) the most with frost and the full moon is palest and looks the coldest, just before the ''sun-dogs" appear in the east. A rifle swung lightly over my shoulder, held in place by a leather strap. My Norwegian snow-shoes cut the ("lisp, velvety, glistening carpet Avith the slightest '• whish-Avhish "' imaginable, and my speed was at least six miles an h(jiir as 1 skirted the bald mountain at a slight descent. On, on I went for hve miles, and then turned to climb to the great AVhite Pine Park, more than a thousand feet ab(»ve. Py tilt' use of my ])()1(\ 1 made the winding ascent as fast as a man would walk on a good road on an up-grade so steej). The mountain side was barren of timl)er, with many walls of basaltic rocks standing up in impassable bar- riers, fi'owninu' and dark aliove the snow. Around these MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 39 overlianging ledges I worked my way, tired and half -dis- couraged, to the green forest-line that crowned the canon wall. Having gained the summit, I found the park to be a beautiful level plateau, with large, straight pines, their smooth, limbless trunks standing like pillars supporting an endless canopy of interlacing boughs. The grand old trunks were so far apart that my progress was not impeded, and I made a rapid cruise in search of Moose-trails. I was not long in finding a deep road crossing the park in a line as straight as a railroad. I examined the well -beaten trail, and found fresh foot-prints, indicating that the game had gone in the direction that took them farther from the camp. I resolved to follow, and my speed for an hour would have done credit to a racer of record. After the pines grew thinner, and I could see the canon off ,to the right, a slight descent and a turn around a point of a rocky cliff brought me to a cove, thick with quaking aspen trees and brush. On these the Moose had been feed- ing, and the snow was tramped as on the feeding-ground of a hundred hungry cattle. They had twisted and broken down trees fifteen feet high. The split and broken limbs reminded me of the work of Bears in a berry-thicket. The Moose will walk upon a bush with his breast, and bend it down, eating all the twigs off as he passes over; and again, he will reach up and bend down a large limb with his nose. Over the bent limb he will throw one fore leg, and hold it, as with a hook, till it is carefully trimmed. As I skirted the leafless thicket, I saw many evidences of the great strength of these beasts, of distinct and strange habits. I could see where they had plowed through the snow in search of a broad-leafed plant that grew in the mountain swamp, which was then solid, having frozen before the snow came. The Moose had not attemi)ted to remove the snow by pawing, as the Deer do, but had rooted about like hogs, or as they (the Moose) hunt for food under water. The snow, seemingly, was not the least hindrance to them in their search for food on the ground. 40 BIG GAME OF NOitTlI AMERICA. Not a Moose could I see; not a sound could I hear. They liad evidently scented me before I entered the head of the gulch, and had silently stolen away, I found their fresh trails; they had separated, two and three going together in their Higlit. I estimated that not less than a dozen or fourteen had been feeding in the thicket and on the frozen swamp when the alarm was given of my approach. I singled out the new-made trail that indicated a flight in the direction of camp, and started on a desperate run on the down-grade. The Moose will, when chased in deep snow, and especially if closely pressed, choose a course that gives him the advantage of gravitation, if there is an incline to be chosen. I shot through the trees at a reckless speed for at least five miles, but never sighted a Moose. They were breaking a new trail in the soft snow, and how they could cover a distance of five miles in so short a sf)ace of time was a myst