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THE 


BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


ITS HABITS, HABITAT, 
HAUNTS, AND CHARACTERISTICS; HOW, WHEN, 
AND WHERE TO HUNT IT. 


BY 


Jupg¢e Jonn DEAN CaTon, NEWTON Hisss (“‘Roxrey NewTon”’), W. A. Perry (‘‘SILLALICUM”’), 
Wm. P. Lert (“ALGonguin”), ArTHUR W. Du Bray (“‘GAucHo”’), WALTER M. WOLFE 
(“SHosHONE”), Rev. JosHua Cooke (“Boone”), T. S. Van Dyke, Wm. B. Ler- 
FINGWELL, T. G. FARRELL, Dr. R. B. CANTRELL, Cot. Geo. D. ALEXANDER, 

M. E. Auuison, Rev. Dr.W.S. Rarnsrorp, C. A. Cooper (‘“‘SIBYLLENE”’), 

Dr. M. G. Evuzey, J. C. Natrrass, Orrin BELKNAP (‘‘UNCLE 
FuuLer”), H. BrepERBICK, JOHN FANNIN, SERGT. FRANCIS 
Lone, DANIEL ARROWSMITH (‘‘SANGAMON”’), Cyrus 
Ww. Butter, AND A. G. REQUA. 


EDITED By G. O. SHIELDS (‘‘Coquina’’), 


AUTHOR OF “CRUISINGS IN THE CASCADES,” ‘“‘RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES,” “‘ HUNTING IN THE 


GREAT WEST,” “CAMPING AND CAMP OUTFITS,”’ “THE BATTLE OF THE BIG HOLE,” ETC. 


CHICAGO AND NEW YORK: 
RAND, MCNALLY & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS. 
1890. : 


Copyricut, 1890, py G. 0. SHIELDS, 


All rights “reserved. 


~ 


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 codperation 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 of great and lasting value, and one for which all 
lovers of nature should feel as grateful to them as does 


THe Epiror. 
CxicaGco, May, 1890. 


(5) 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. ; - : i The HonoRABLE JOHN DEAN CATON, 


Author of “The Antelope and Deer of America,” ‘‘A Summer 


in Norway,” etc. 


MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 
Newton Hisss (‘‘ Roxey Newton’). 


ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. . W. A. Perry (‘‘Sillalicum”’). 


THE WAPITI(Poem). . . . - . +s «. .  « “AH-BAH-MI-Mt, 
THE CARIBOU. . . , : WituiaM Pirrman Lert (‘‘ Algonquin’’). 
THE WOODLAND CARIBOU. : : ; P x : Dr. R. B. CANTRELL. 
THE MULE DEER. . . ... .  . Rev. JosHva Cooke (“Boone”). 
THE MULE DEER OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. . : ‘ T. S. Van DyKe, 
Author of ‘The Still Hunter,”’ etc. 
THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. z P A . THomas G. FARRELL. 
THE VIRGINIA DEER. 3 > : ; .  Watrer M. Wotre (“‘ Shoshone”). 
A DEER-HUNT (Poem). . 3 ‘ : = ; = 4 ‘*WAH-BAH-MI-MI. ” 
HUNTING THE GRIZZLY BEAR. . : ‘ : i W.S. Rarnsrorp, D. D. 
THE POLAR BEAR. . ; : : Sreret. Francis Lone, 
of the Sante Arctic expedition, and GrorcE S. McTavisa, of 
the Hudson's Bay Company. 


A POLAR BEAR HUNT... / : ; : ; : : — 


THE BLACK BEAR. . 2 : : m . -.  CoL. GeoreGE D, ALEXANDER. 
THE BUFFALO. . . i . < . - .  Ortn BetxnaP (“‘ Uncle Fuller *’). 
THE MUSK-OX. . ; : ; : : 3 Seance : . H. BrepersBicx, 
of the Greely Arctic Expedition. 
STILL-HUNTING THE ANTELOPE. Z Z ARTHUR W. pu Bray (‘‘ Gaucho”’). 
COURSING THE ANTELOPE WITH GREYHOUNDS. . . M. E. Auison,. 
THE DEATH OF VENUS (Poem). x ; : 3 i ; . Wr41rram P. Lert. 
THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. . é ; : é ; . JOHN FANNIN. 
THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. . er ee . G. O. Suiexps (‘‘ Coquina”’). 


(6) 


PAGE. 


il 


17 


241 


247 


313 


341 


CONTENTS. 

THE PECOARY. | ee te ek a Ace, ear Al Gk Rea. 
Wie Gogke Sr es wid Pee 
THE LYNX. : ; “ 7 = > Z n 2 * : J.C. NATTRASS. 
WUE WG re ae rs oe : 0.) Wri P. Lerr. 
COURSING THE GRAY WOLF. i teins - aes F . D.S. Caae. 
THE WOLVERINE. . . . . . . . ©. A. CoorEr (‘‘Sibyllene™). 
THE WILDCAT. . . . . .~ .. DANIEL ARRowsmrTH (“Sangamon”). 
sean IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. : .  Danre, ARROWSMITH. 

X-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. . pa @ Mita, 

P Associate Editor The National Senonie. ; d 
ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. . .  . «~~. Cyrus W. Buruer. 
THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. . A 4 Juper Joun Dean Caron, 


and WiLu1aAM B, Lorsuncivats, Author of ‘‘ Wild Fowl Shoot- 
ing,” ‘‘Shooting on Upland, Marsh, and Stream,”’ etc. 


se oe, 


FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. ) 

PAGE. 

peermprecm, 6 oe 
PHBL, MOORE, <4  e eee e 4 


Baw a a ne age es oe 
THE BATTLE OF THE BULIS, . . . . . . « « “ 
BIG CARIBOU HORNS, . Ries Svante acters 
eiCktrs mene Oo sah eS “ 
Wel MONEE Oe ae ee 
A STANCH POINT, Pa iheuit gk Ser he ht ore penal 
CHRISTMAS EVE ATA CATTLE RANCH, . . . . . . & 
tee i ee ee “ 


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WkNIRD-<k SUNIL 8 i 
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POACHING | 8 5 Ree re te hs “ 
“ENFANT PERDU,” ere gg 
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BEER RERESS EER SER SSE SE SR aw a se & ut 


TALLY-HO! : : ; . . peice . . . . . . = 

FORWARD ON! - . . . © . . . . . . . 43 @ 

A PUGNACIOUS PASSENGER, . SY ph) oa ae aa a a s ; 
4 


(8) 


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We AI) CAS ek eg ee ee ee ee 
ee eet a eR re 
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OES RRRSS REE ed AE pot ee ae eee tO a ge pt er eee 
GOATS—FEMALE AND YOUNG, . . PF pg aw teh ees 
MOTHER AND SON, Bik ee Prem ig oe ac. ee 
THE rn rio ee ; 
ee BEN NOURE ol i Gs es ee 
A ee as 
BLOWN OUT, i ge mes por er sae OC ei. gg 


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—) 


~ . 


€9) 


INTRODUCTION. 


By JoHn DEAN CATON, 
Author of ‘‘The Antelope and Deer of America;” ‘(A Summer in Norway,” etc. 


AM requested to write an introduction to Mr. Shields’ 
book, ‘‘The Big Game of North America,’ and it 
affords me great pleasure to comply with this request. 

es» Yet, the first question I asked myself when I read the 
editor’s letter was, ‘‘ Why introduce such men as these to 
American readers?”’ 

What need is there to commend, to reading sportsmen or 
to naturalists, a book written by such able, conscientious, 
indefatigable workers in the interests of natural history, 
field sports, game protection, and sportsmen’s literature as 
the men whose names appear as contributors to this work? 
Why should I write in behalf of the noble, the pathetic, 
the conscientious ‘‘Shoshone;’’ the careful, painstaking 
‘*Roxey Newton;’’ the eloquent, the enthusiastic, the 
poetic ‘‘ Algonquin;’’ the gallant champion of the hounds, 
Doctor Ellzey; the venerable lover of Nature, Colonel 
Alexander; the genial, big-hearted ‘‘Uncle Fuller;’’ the 
nature-loving ‘‘Sibyllene;’ the careful naturalist, But- 
ler, or the ever fresh and interesting old hunter, ‘‘ Sanga- 
‘mon?’’ Their numerous and fascinating contributions to 
the sportsmen’s press have made their names household 
words throughout the land. 

Why should I introduce the sturdy, cautious Van 
Dyke; the eloquent, the beloved ‘‘Boone;”’ the flowery 
**Sillalicum;’’ the earnest, enthusiastic ‘‘Gaucho,’’ or the 
arduous mountaineer, ‘‘Coquina?’’ I need not; I will not 
presume to do so. They are known throughout the Eng- 
lish-speaking world; and the man who has not yet read 


“The Still Hunter,’ ‘‘Cruisings in the Cascades,’’ and 
(11) 


12 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA. 


‘‘Rustlings in the Rockies,’ has thus far missed the most 
intense happiness that could possibly be crowded into a 
few hours by his own fireside. 

All these and many other well-known names appear as 
contributors to the present volume—that of the last-named 
writer as the editor thereof. Each writes of a species of 
game that he has studied for years, not alone in dust-coy- 
ered books, but in that grander school, the realm of Nature. 
These men have spent days, weeks—aye, in some cases, 
many years—in the wilderness, sleeping on the trails of the 
animals they now write of—watching their movements by 
day, listening to their calls by night, and, after the fatal 
bullet has done its work, dissecting and studying the 
structure of the bodies of their victims on their native heath. 

But this book is not designed to interest the sportsman 
alone. While it does not assume to be a strictly scientific 
work, yet the professional naturalist will find much in it, 
not only to interest, but to instruct, him. The natural his- 
tory of an animal does not consist alone of his bones. <As 
showing a record of the past, these contain the only 
reliable data to tell us of the animals that lived long ago, 
and to identify genera and classes of existing fauna; but, 
at present, other parts of the animal deserve our attention 
aswell. He consists of flesh and blood, as well as of bones, 
and can not be thoroughly understood without a careful 
study of all these constituent parts. 

From a scientific point of view, the osteology of an 
animal is undoubtedly of prime importance; but in a prac- 
tical, utilitarian consideration, the broader field of general 
morphology, and especially of myology, is of equal and even 
greater importance, while the psychology which is developed 
in various animals, in some respects, interests us most of 
all. Nature has endowed all animals with a certain meas- 
ure of mental capacities, and these constitute a part of 
their beings. So they alike come within the domain of 
natural history. 

None of these are beneath the study of the scientists. 
While the component parts of the dead animal may be 


INTRODUCTION. 18 


studied with the aid of the dissecting knife, other facilities 
are required for the proper study of the mental endowments 
of the animal, and for this, observations of the animal in 
life are indispensable. Here, then, especially may the natu- 
ralist find many valuable lessons in the several papers col- 
lected and given to the world in this’ volume. The hunter 
alone has complete opportunity to study the habits, char- 
acteristics, and capabilities of the animals which he pur- 
sues. He observes and studies carefully the sagacity and 
cunning of the Fox, the Wolf, and many other animals, in 
securing a supply of food or in avoiding danger, showing 
capabilities with which they are endowed for their well- 
being. In the American Antelope, for instance, he sees a 
curiosity manifested which often leads it to destruction. 

The sportsman, I say, studies and observes all these 
characteristics, not alone because they interest him and fur- 
nish him food for thought while on the hunt and for dis- 
cussion by the camp-fire, but because he is aware that he 
must know all the resources of the game in order to hunt 
it successfully. 

I repeat, therefore, that he who would scientifically 
study natural history, will find much in the papers, written 
by these skillful, practical hunters, and given to the world 
in this volume, to aid him to a full understanding of this 
vast subject, for which he might look in vain elsewhere. — 

And, then, whatan array of subjects is here presented for 
study! Every species of Big Game inhabiting this conti- 
nent is here served up; and several species that do not strictly 
come within that classification are treated, because they 
occasionally afford sport or incident to the hunter when in 
search of other animals. Among the most important papers 
are those on the Buffalo—now, alas! practically extinct—in 
its wild state; those on the Polar Bear and the Musk-ox, 
furnished by survivors of the memorable Greely Arctic 
Expedition, who hunted and subsisted largely on these 
and other wild animals while battling with icebergs, 
starvation, and death in the frozen North. The Rocky 
Mountain Goat, that mysterious and little-known habitant 


14 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


of the snowy cliffs, is written of by a man who has lived 
half a life-time beneath the shadows of its Alpirie home, and 
who has probably killed more goats than any other man, 
living or dead. 

Then there is a most interesting and valuable chapter on 
the Peccary, or Mexican Wild Hog—an animal that few 
Northern sportsmen have ever seen, and yet one that 
swarms in certain portions-of Arizona, Texas, and our sis- 
ter Republic. Its habits, habitat, and range are accurately 
described, and thrilling accounts are given of several hunt- . 
ing expeditions after this animal, in which large numbers 
of them were killed. 

We all have read many articles descriptive of Moose- 
hunting in Maine and Canada, but here is a novelty. Mr. 
Hibbs has given us a paper on Moose-hunting in the Rocky 
Mountains, embellished with valuable notes as to the habits 
of the great ruminant, under its rugged environment, and 
_ with such thrilling episodes and adventures in hunting it 
as could only have been experienced in that strange and 
picturesque land. 

_ “* Sillalicum’’ has given us a study of the Cougar, and 

Nattrass one of the Lynx, never before equaled by any 
writers, and which could not have been produced by other 
than the enthusiastic hunters and naturalists that they are. 

Mr. Lett’s paper on the Caribou throws much new light 
on the habits and character of that strange denizen of the | 
great northern wilderness. He has lived half a life-time 
in its woodland home, and has had exceptional opportuni- 
ties for studying it in its wild state. 

Mr. Cooper contributes the most complete and compre- 
- hensive monograph of the Wolverine that has ever been 
written. He has lived in the various portions of the 
country which it inhabits, for twenty-five years, and, in 
addition to his own experience with it, gives many inci- 
dents and anecdotes collected from other hunters and trap- 
pers. His paper comprises over seven thousand words, and 
will prove of inestimable value to all who wish to learn the 
true life history of this, heretofore, little known animal. 


INTRODUCTION. 15 


There are many other names and subjects that I should 
like to speak of in detail, but time and space forbid. 

The editor of this work has not overlooked the fact 
that this is preéminently a practical age—an age of object- 
teaching. He has, therefore, illustrated his book in a way 
that he and his contributors may justly feel proud of. 

Altogether, there is given here such a study of the 
natural history of our game quadrupeds, and of the thrill- 
ing incidents encountered in hunting them, as has never 
before been offered to the reading world. Each chapter in 
this book is in itself a complete work, and the book, as a 
whole, is a most valuable library. 

Any one of the names on Mr. Shields’ list of contribu- 
tors should insure the sale of an entire edition of his book, 
and when we multiply this possibility by twenty-six, the 
whole number of names on his title-page, the result 
obtained indicates the magnitude of the success that should, 
and that we hope will, crown his labors and those of his 
collaborateurs. 


oe 
ai 


irate 


BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 
MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 


- By Newron Hrpss (‘‘ RoxEy NEwrTon”). 


Where echoes sleep in deepest forest shade, 

Where legend says the chieftain slew his bride, 
And airy phantoms float from side to side, 

The monarch of the mountain ranges made 

His home. In coat of sombre hue arrayed, 

With eyes of liquid, beauteous brown, and wide, 
He stood supreme, a king of power and pride. 
From beaten paths a sturdy hunter strayed 
Through silent, shadow-haunted, ancient wood; 
And near the lair he came. An antlered head 
Was raised, the air was sniffed, and then the sound 
Of heavy hoofs was heard. He stamped—he stood 
In stupid awe. A crash! The monster, dead, 

The hunter’s prize, lay weltering on the ground. 


his far western habitat, the Moose usually lives higher 

up the mountain-sides than either the Elk or the Deer, 

though on some parts of the western slope of the Rockies 

he is migratory, and changes his abode as the seasons 
change. In summer, he is found only in the little parks at 
the sources of creeks, as near the summits of the snow-clad 
ranges as he can find the peculiar foliage plants suited to 
his fastidious taste. He will seek the food he likes best, even 
at the risk of his life. Shy and wary as he is, he has been 
known to defy men and dogs in order to spend an hour on 
the borders of a swamp where grew water-lilies and other 
herbs and plants on which he was wont to feed. 

On one occasion, a party of hay-makers were camped 
on a prairie, near a lake, high up in the Bitter Root Mount- 
ains, fourteen miles from the timber. A lone bull Moose 
was seen to pass near the workmen, and between the 
wagons and the kitchen tent. His trail was within thirty 


yards of the fire that blazed up and sent its curling smoke 
2 (17) 


18 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


heavenward, yet he passed slowly along, regardless of 
scents or noises. The mowers were running with their 
clatter, and some of them were near enough to observe his 
movements plainly. 

At first, the ungainly beast was believed to be some 
prospector’s poor mule seeking water, and then returning, 
alone, to a probable owner, who was believed to be digging 
in the gulches above. Day after day the black object came 
down the mountain with stately tread, and with clock-like 
regularity. After a week, one of the boys chanced to be 
in camp while his companions toiled in the hay, and was 
aroused from his imagined illness by the approach of the 
Moose to the very camp. There were guns enough in the 
tent to resist a formidable Indian attack, if properly 
handled, but the surprised hay-pitcher rushed out with a 
pitchfork to battle with the Moose. The broad-antlered 
monarch, however, had no desire to cultivate the acquaint- 
ance of the sick man, and, with the great speed of his 
swinging trot, passed on, never swerving from the -well- 
worn trail that he had traveled, perhaps, for years. 

On returning to camp, I was slow to believe the invalid’s 
story; but he insisted, and reiterated, and I was at last con- 
vinced. The need of meat and the love of sport combined 
were sufficient to send me even in pursuit of a forlorn hope; 
so, exchanging the pitchfork for the rifle, I started toward 
the supposed feeding-ground of the great deer. 

It was in September, 1883. The season was dry, and in 
that country there were no swamps, even in the timber, on 
or near the summit of the range, as is usual at the head of 
water-courses; so [ thought it not improbable that a Moose 
might seek the lake for a feeding-ground. I approached it 
‘cautiously, and began to skirt the bank, with eyes and ears 
strained for the faintest evidences of game. After an hour 
of hard work, wading and creeping through willows, around 
and about the arms and sloughs which crept out here and 
there from the main body of the lake, I saw a dark object 
above the flags, or cat-tails, about four hundred yards away. 
I knew at once it was the game I was in search of; but it 


MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 19 


was too far away for a sure shot, and how to get nearer—a 
little nearer, at least—was the puzzle I must solve. 

I had learned well the lesson of the cunning of the ani- 
mal I must outwit. Even if he had been bold on the trail, 
in his run of fourteen miles for a feed upon his favorite 
lily-pads, he would now start at the snap of a twig, or the 
first breath of air that came to him from me, or even from 
the tracks I had left behind, and would soon put miles of 
prairie between himself and me. There was astretch of open 
deep water between my cover and the game. To pass that 
would be impossible, and to skirt the lake, through the wil- 
lows, offered the danger of a noisy course. I knew his 
quick ear would never fail to catch the least sound, so I 
went back to the open, beyond the fringe of brush, and 
traveled a mile through them. Then I was compelled to 
guess, without guides, the location of the cluster of flags, 
in which I had last seen the Moose. I came up to the point, 
creeping like the Panther that seeks a vantage-ground from 
which to spring upon the Fawn, to the edge of the cat-tails. 
They were dense, and higher than my head. 

I proceeded, I thought, as noiselessly as the snow falls, 
and with more caution than I ever possessed before or 
since. I parted the yielding cover, and the open lake was 
revealed to me. I knew that was the spot, right before 
me, where the great brute was feeding when I last saw 
him. Yes; the water was still muddy and disturbed where 
he had been wading; but the Moose was gone! He had 
stolen away silently, but swiftly and surely. Had there 
been in that spot any other living animal, my skill and 
determined effort would have surprised it; but the Moose 
had fairly outwitted me. 

Then, the next thought was that the great fleet creature 
would hie himself to yonder dense wood, whence he came 
two hours before. To do so, he must run over an open 
prairie fourteen miles wide, and could not avoid being 
seen, at least. I looked in vain, however, and satisfied 
myself that he had not yet left the willows and weeds that 
bordered the lake. 


20 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


I summoned the boys from the prairie-grass meadow, 
and they tried to drive him out for me; but all the noise and 
diligent search they and I made failed to rouse the Moose 
from his hastily chosen lair in or about the lake. He knew 
the situation, and was master of it; he simply defied us. 
The noisy hay-pitchers returned to work, and I, jeered and 
ridiculed by them, walked sadly back to the tent, too much 
abashed to be able to convince them that I had really seen 
a Moose; yet the next day the same dark object passed 
the trail that threads the prairie from the mountain to the 
lake. 

I hastened to the scene of my former disappointment, 
and walked upright to within forty yards of the Moose, as — 
he stood crunching the root of a lily. I fired, and the 
plunging of that great beast in three feet of water was 
like the explosion of a submarine torpedo. He stopped 
after a few jumps, and stood broadside again. I fired again, 
when he pitched heavily forward, dead—shot through the 
heart—and floated out from shore, Peo by his insen- 
sible struggles. 

This Moose was about four years old. He was black and 
glossy on his sides, while his back was yet brown with 
coarse tatters of his last winter’s coat. His horns were clean, 
white, and new—ready for the warfare of the approaching 
mating-season. He was fat, and would have weighed, 
dressed, about seven hundred and fifty pounds. 

My companions now apologized for their skepticism of 
the day before, and congratulated me on my skill and good 
fortune. Some of them even went so far as to say that they 
knew all the time the Moose was in there, for I never made 
a mistake in matters pertaining to game, but that. they 
simply wanted to have some fun with me. 

Judge Caton, in his grand work, ‘‘The Antelope and 
Deer of America,” accurately describes this great mammal 
in these words: 

Largest of all the Deer family, and most ungainly in form. Head long 


and narrow; eyes small and sunken; nose long and flexible, and covered with 
hairs, except a spot between the nostrils; ears very long and coarse; antlers 


a 


22 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


large and spreading, broadly palmated with numerous sharp points; neck 
short and stout, and nearly horizontal, higher at the withers than at the hips. 
Body short and round. Legs long and stout, fore legs the longest. Accessory 
hoofs large and loosely attached. No metatarsal gland. Tarsal gland inside 
the hock present, but small, and covered with black reversed hair. Hair long, 
coarse, and rather brittle; longest about the neck; color variant from black to 


brown and yellowish gray. Antlers wanting on the female, which is smaller : 


than the male, and lighter colored in winter. 


The venison of the Moose is good, winter or summer. It 


is coarse-grained—even more so than that of the Elk—but 


possesses a flavor peculiarly its own. I have heard it pro- 
nounced musky in flavor, but the friends of the animal— 
the men who love to hunt it in its forest home—do not 
detect the musk. When, in midwinter, the Deer are too 
poor to eat, the mountaineer goes in search of Moose, which, 
owing to their great size and strength, can procure their food 
despite the deep snows and blizzards. He knows that the 
flesh of the great ruminant is dark and uninviting to the 
eye, but sweet and juicy to the palate. 


The hump of the Buffalo is a delicacy widely celebrated 


among sportsmen. The Moose has a hump on his nose, and 
for a delicious morsel it excels any other meat dish I have 
ever had the pleasure of sampling. The Beaver’s tail has 


many admirers, and the nose of the Moose resembles it in 


some ways, but is far better. I never knew any other ver- 


dict from those who had enjoyed a dinner with that best of 


game dishes as a meat course. 

The Moose, the killing of which is described above, was 
devoted to the delectation of the deserving laborers in the 
hay-field, and was, without dissent, voted the best meat 
in the world. There is, however, I will admit, something 
in the air that surrounds a camp, far away from civilized 


homes, that fits the palate to the enjoyment of wild meat. — 


This unaccountable peculiarity may be reason for the public 
to look upon the indorsements of sportsmen with a degree 
of allowance. 

The head of the Moose was cooked in the best style of 
the hunter’s art. It was coated with clay all over, by rub- 
bing the sticky, putty-like substance into the coarse, long 


MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 23 


hair, till it was inclosed, completely, in a case of mud two 
inches thick. I might remark that it was not particularly 
well dressed, after the manner of modern civilized butchers, 
but was coated and cooked with tongue intact. The pro- 
cess of removing the horns was an excuse for saving the 
brains as a separate dish for the complaining member of the 
company. You have all heard of the great dish of brains 
provided from the Moose. The writer who repeats that 
well-worn story never knew much, personally, about the 
Moose. He has either been deceived by the cook, and 
believed the ‘‘hump’’ was the brain, or he has written 
about that of which he saw nothing. The Moose has no 
more brains (in quantity) than the beef steer, but with that 
sweet meat from the hump a quantity could be prepared 
that would make the uninitiated think the head, horns, and 
all were filled with brains. 

But to return. Our Moose-head was coated with clay. 
In the meantime, a hole was shoveled out, large as a pork- 
barrel, and was filled up with dry wood, which was made 
to burn like a furnace till the sides of the oven were almost 
white with heat. The head was dropped into the hole and 
covered with live coals of fire. Over all was thrown the 
loose dirt dug from the hole, and the Moose-head was left 
to roast till the next morning. We all retired, feeling like 
a child on Christmas eve who longs for the coming of 
_ Christmas morning. 

When that head was lifted to the temporary table, after 
ten hours of roasting, it was steaming hot, and the aroma 
made us ravenous as wolves. The clay was baked like a 
brick, and when cracked and torn off it removed the skin, 
and left the clean, white, sweet meat exposed. The flavor 
of the juicy hump of the Moose I could not describe, but it 
had enriched every part of our roast with its deliciousness, 
and few such breakfasts have been eaten by hay-makers as 
we ate that morning. 

It is not the custom of the resident hunters, in the 
Rocky Mountain region, to preserve the skins of Moose 
they kill, for these are of but little value. They are not 


24 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


materially different from those of the Elk—coarse and 
porous when dressed for leather. They are used by the 
Indians, however, for saddle-bags and for tents. They are 
heavy, and consequently regarded as worthless when the 
hunter has a long, rough journey before him. The antlers 
are heavy also, and even more cumbersome; but the average. 
hunter takes pride in the careful preservation of them. 

The largest pair of antlers I ever saw was taken from — 
the head of a Moose that was killed in the Teton Basin, — 
near the head of Snake River. When standing on the 
points, they encircled the tent door, and a man could walk © 
under the arch by slightly stooping. They measured, from 
tip to tip, eight and one-half feet. The monarch which 
carried them was a grand specimen of the ruminant divis- 
ion of the animal kingdom. His weight was never known, ~ 
but, as he lay on his brisket, his withers were higher than 
any horse in the outfit. An ordinary man could barely 
‘*chin’’ the Moose as he lay on the ground, as the horse- 
nian would express that simplest way of taking a measure- 
ment. He was “fifteen hands’’ high without his legs under 
him. 

In the fall of 1884, in company with a hunting party of 
three gentlemen from an Eastern city, I shot and wounded 
a two-year-old cow Moose, in a small lake in the Coeur 
d’Alene Mountains. The ball passed through one shoul- 
der, and, of course, disabled her; but any man would have 
been foolhardy to hisve approached her. 

One of my companions had a well-trained dog, winell 
was sent into the water to drive the Moose out of a clump 
of willows in which she concealed herself after being 
wounded. The dog swam to the little island, only to be 
driven back into the water. The enraged Moose followed, 
with lunges that were terrific. The dog was a strong swim- 
mer, but he could no more escape the mad Moose than if 
he had been chained. He was borne down, and would have 

been killed only for the depth of the water. As it was, he 
was well-nigh drowned, when a quick shot killed the cow, 
and thus made it possible for him to swim ashore. 


MOOSE-HUNTING 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 dispute, 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 repeating-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 rifle, 
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 witha 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, ina 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 two 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. These 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 rapid manipulation. 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 every 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 rifles 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 upon 
to choose the best gun for Moose-hunting, my vote would 
be cast for the new Colt’s Lightning Repeater, forty cal- 
iber, using sixty 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 balance, the safest from 
premature explosions, capable 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- 


Pron sw 2° 
Pa ee ee ae ee) ee 


EOS SU Seen oe See YT Ses 


ee ee 


MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 27 


tage this gun has over any others that I have seen. It 
enables the operator to shoot more rapidly, when accuracy 
is considered, than the common lever-actions do. 
With 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 fora 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 tliose 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 — 
through 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 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


they were so tempting that we were moved to go in search 
of the first that 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 up the creek. The story 
he told of the great, shaggy beasts filled 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 charm 
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, fora still-hunt. To our surprise, we found the game 
very plentiful, and as 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 poor 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 propose the manner of attack; so one of the 


boys, being inexperienced and noted for his bad marksman- 


ship, was detailed to shoot the poor old bull, some of the 
more generous sportsmen declaring themselves too kind- 
‘ hearted to shoot a sick animal. At the crack of the boy’s 
rifle, the great, rough-coated mountain-monarch reeled and, 
with a groan that was half a cry of agony, fell heavily to 
the ground. He was found to be in fine condition for the 
winter season. 

We feasted on hump, and discussed the peculiar action of 
_ the game we saw that day, until far into the night; they 
were so different from the sly 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 ina 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 the 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 © 
first 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 the strongest team of horses, 

on a dead pull, was snapped 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 rope 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 the 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. It was a new rope, and would last him for years 

if not unloaded by some lucky chance. 

The Clear Water River hasits source in the heavy foreets 
of the Bitter Root Range of mountains, and its many trib- 
utaries drain the best feeding-crounds for the Moose to be 
found in any part of our country. The gold-hunters, in 
their excursions, pass through the silent wilderness, but 
they go and come without disturbing the game. So rugged 
are the rocky cafions of these mountains that hunters sel- 
dom penetrate to the region of the lakes along the summit, 
and the Moose breed there year after year in comparative 
safety. From these game-preserves the Moose never 
migrate in winter in herds, as they do from the more bar- 
ren regions farther south. There are no little valleys to 
invite settlement high up in the Bitter Root Range, so the 
encroachments are 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 thought 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 rifle of the lightly 
charged pattern. The gun was old, as well as lightly 


82 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


charged, and was kept coated with dust and rough with 
rust by the owner, who did not know that better guns had 
been made in later 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. 
‘*T will kill the Deer,’’ I thought, and was 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. ‘‘Itis a mule,’’ I thought; but no! his gleaming 
antlers appeared in full view. I knew the stranger then, but 
was undetermined what todo. 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 within 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 fired. 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 apparently 
in response to the bray of a mule. These beasts are full of 
fight 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 explanation 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 hei is deceived, nor 
yet because the noise of the horn is an imitation of the 
Moose language. 


MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. oo 


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 during 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 company 
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 pairs 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, 
Bears, and Mountain Lions in disorder from the field. When 
a man approaches 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 
the 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 Coeur 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 camp 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 
3 


1 


84 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


sun had no power to darken the pale-green ferns, and the — 
wind never blew to tangle the slender fronds. The moist 

ground was untracked, except by the cautious feet of the — 
wild creatures of the woods, and all was silent, as if no 
echoes 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 the morning we were longing for adventure, like rest- 
less spirits in a new world, and went forth commissiohall to 
explore and to conquer the denizens of that Arcadian-like 
land of summer loveliness. We tramped far, far through — 
an outstretched, unchanged expanse of forest, without sat- 
isfactory results as to the finding of big game. There were 
dozens of that species of grouse known as the fool hen, 
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 hannte, and nothing less would satisfy 
his longing. 

Finally, when he was separated from me about a quarter ~ 
of a mile, I heard his deep 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?’? He was pointing into a 
tangle of ferns near his feet, that was as dense as the rank 
clover in a rich meadow. 

I, as with an echo, answered, ‘‘ What is it 2’ wien by 
his side I saw a crouching little animal, with glossy brown 
coat, lying 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. No, we 
could not shoot the crouching, beautiful creature. 

‘‘Ah,” said the athletic foreign sportsman, ‘‘I will 
capture the bloody thing!’ and handing his rifle to me, he 
sprang upon it like a lion upon alamb. <A cry went up 
and echoed through the trees, plaintive, like the voice of 


MOOSE-HUNTING IN 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, however, at the manner of foe she encountered, and 
she stopped 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 thesides. The parts of the body less exposed to the 
weather were nearly black, and reflected a silky glossiness. 
The color, asa whole, was not pleasing. Like all the other 
Moose I have seen, it had the dingy look of a partly faded 
coat. It was 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 legs 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. We 
hastened out of the mountains with it to a ranch, and pro- 
cured milk for it. There we arranged a good stable, and 
gave it tender care; but it kept up its fretting ways. It 
would walk from one end of its stall to the other continu- 
ally, never resting and never sleeping, to our knowledge. 
At each end of the inclosure it would rise up on its hind 
legs and bleat, and then turn about to repeat the same dis- 


36 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA. 


tressing action and pitiful ery at the other extremity of its 
prison. It lived two weeks, and died of a broken heart. 
The sorrowing Englishman gaye it a burial in a pretty, — 
shady place, such as he thought it longed for.in life. 

Near the northern boundary of Idaho is what is known 
as the Lake Region. Within a radius 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 
cahon for a bed, leading ultimately to the same destina- 
tion—to the great wide and winding Columbia, that redeems 
a broad desert and finds rest in the sea. Near these lakes 
is a wilderness that gives the Moose the solitude and shelter 
he loves, and fine 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 the 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 
require a circuitous run of seven miles to gain the sum- 
mit The snow was only about fifteen 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 
lovers of the chase, I was prolific of arguments that con- . 
vinced me that I should go a-hunting; and a-hunting I did 
go. When, after five hours of hard labor, I gained the 
bleak summit, a eutting wind cooled my enthusiasm. I~ 
shuddered at the horrors of a winter blizzard nine thousand 


MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY 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 wasa dense growth of willows and small quaking 
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 L 
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 point 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-place 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, I 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 was confident that I 
could run near enough to shoot the Moose, even if the snow 
was not deep enough to interfere with his Maud 8. 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 deiaenined: if 
possible, to approach near enough to shoot the big brute 
while at full speed. The mark was large, and I was armed 
with a good repeating-rifle. In ten seconds I could shoot 
four or five bullets into vital parts of such a large animal. 
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 goof my pole, for I was unable to stand, 
so the Moose gained the valley, and before I could steady 
myself to shoot he was far out of range. I do not believe 
a horse could have run as fast as that Moose ran across 
that valley to the timber along the river. 


* 


38 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


I was too tired to return to camp that night, and fortune — 
favored me to the extent that I was given shelter by a kind- 
hearted Indian. I was fed on smoked fish and smoked 
venison, and slept in a bed of smoked skins; but fatigue 
and hunger give flavor to food, and make even an Indian’s 
bunk a soft ana sweet bed. thee 

On Christmas-day, 1883, and during the following week, 
T 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 camp in that isolated bar se . 
picturesque mountain region. The snow was four feet deep — oe 


on Christmas-day, and soft and level as the grass in a 
meadow. Our meat-supply was reduced to a limited quan- 
tity of strong bacon, and that was incentive sufficient to — 
hasten my movements to secure some fresh and choice 
roasts suited to the tastes of a hunter. Only a man accus- 
tomed to the snow-shoe would undertake an excursion over 
mountains and cajfions with four’ feet of soft snow on the > 
ground; but, with the experience of the mountaineer, no” 
better conditions could be desired when Elk or Moose are 
the game to be hunted. 

I was out early, even in that hour when trees and rocks 
snap 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 crisp, velvety, glistening carpet with the slightest 
‘*whish-whish ’’ imaginable, and my speed was at least six 
miles an hour as I skirted the bald mountain at a slight 
descent. 

On, on I went for five miles, and then turned to climb 
to the great White Pine Park, more than a thousand feet 
above. By the use of my pole, I made the winding ascent 
as fast as a man would walk on a good road on an up-grade 
so steep. The mountain-side was barren of timber, with 
many walls of basaltic rocks standing up in impassable bar- 
riers, frowning and dark above the snow. Around these 


‘ONISMONG 


4 
i 
a 


i : 


an 
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ee 


ao 
i 


Ai : 


pa Be Ne 


MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 39 


overhanging 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 cafion 
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 attempted 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 NORTH AMERIOA. 


Not a Moose could I see; not a sound could I hear. 
They had 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 flight. 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 space of 


, ‘time was a mystery to me. 
At the end of that straight run they turned up a ravine, — 


and made for the top of the mountain again. These tac- 


tics surprised me; but I soon observed that they were fenced ea: 


in by a wall of rocks to the left, and the up-hill course was 
the only means of escape from a pocket. From this I 
reasoned that the quarry was hard-pressed, and I used my 
pole with energy for a long, tiresome climb. I knew, then, 
the game was far ahead of me, but their course was toward 
camp, with an assurance of a down- grade run. 

So steep was the incline, that the speed I made on sty 
snow-shoes was only limited by the fear of obstacles to be 
encountered. I was reckless, and I indulged in a terrific run, 
barely missing a crag here and a precipice there. Alas! I 


did not miss every obstruction. The new-made road I was oe 


keeping just below me, to the left, turned through a pro- 
jecting ledge, at a sharp angle, in a narrow cut, and I 
plunged over the wall. I shot out into the air, and down, 
down, with the momentary horror of a nightmare! My 
speed hurled me into the soft snow, benumbed with fright, 
but without a bruise. 


MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. _ 41 


I recovered my snow-shoes and my pole with lamentable 
loss of time. I rushed on, to fall again within two minutes. 
I slowed up, but in the excitement I repeated the acrobatic 
feat once more in a disagreeably short time. If I had not 
fallen, I would have surely killed the two Moose I had 
singled out; for I came up to them, and was preparing to 
shoot, when I fell—the last and hardest fall of the day. After 
that the course was more level, but I was too nearly 
exhausted to regain my lost advantages. I had run those 
Moose at least fifteen miles, in snow four feet deep. They 
were tired, and’ I knew they were failing; but I was even 
more tired than they. By the time I lost confidence in my 
ability to run them .down, I was very near camp, and I 
slowly poled myself along to the place of needed rest, pre- 
senting the aspect of a hungry, tired, and disappointed 
man, 

The snow continued to fall for four days after the day of 
disappointment, the incidents of which are recorded above; 
and at the end of that time the little log cabin on the banks 
of Warm River was completely hidden from view, except 
the shack chimney and the sooty line that marked the 
direction of the wind and smoke. 

The snow lay, soft and even, seven feet deep all over the 
‘mountains and valleys around. With an enthusiasm inten- 
sified by the demands of appetite, I renewed my efforts to 
comply with my contract to supply the camp with fresh 
meat. With a rifle that weighed nine and three-fourths 
pounds strapped on my shoulders, and a very light dinner 
at my belt, [again buckled on my snow-shoes, again grasped 
‘the long, light propelling-pole, and again started in search 
of the great ruminants. The depth of snow, when one is 
fairly launched upon it, does not enter into account when 
snow-shoeing. On that occasion, the great carpet was 
unusually soft for so great a depth; but I was every way 
equipped for easy and rapid traveling. Around the pole I 
carried was a disk of rawhide, stretched upon a hoop like a 
drum-head, that prevented its sinking into the snow, and 
afforded a saving of propelling power. 


42- BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


I had learned, by former experience and observation, that 
as long as the snow remained soft the Moose were loath to 
leave the haunts where the quaking aspen and willow grew, 
In the region of Warm River they grow at the héads of the 
little spring branches; on the border of the parks in the 
high regions. I began the task, always laborious with snow- 
shoes, of climbing the great, frowning mountain. 

As the engineer works out a switch-back for a railroad 


over a mountain summit, I wound my.way up—how many __ 


hours I do not know; but after attaining an altitude of two 
thousand feet above the steaming river, I could look back — 
at the black smoke from the cabin-fire, and it seemed only 
a stone’s throw away. Yet I was rejoiced, for the feeding- 
ground of the game was even then before me. 

The furrows, broad and deep, partially filled with the 
snow-fall of a day, told plainly that the Moose had been 
there only the night before. They had-wallowed about like 
hogs in a meadow; they had broken down the brittle, frozen 
bushes, and had left the deep-marked roads to lead me to 
the next grove, a half a mile over a low hill and through 
the pine park. ue 

I moved silently, cautiously, and swiftly—full of hope 
that I might surprise this shyest of game in its lair; but I was 
doomed to disappointment, as I had so often been before. 
As silently as I moved, over the most noiseless of courses, 
I found only the beds and fresh trails left, in a hurried 
flight, by two large Moose. They had plunged into the 
depths, and had left a road such as a rotary snow-plow 
would leave—ten feet wide in places. 

These beds were’on the snow, packed and hard, in the 
way to allow them to hear and see to the best advantage, 
by supporting them as near the surface as possible. The 


coat they wear, of coarse, long hair, makes the best of % 
wraps for a snow-bed, so that they suffer no hardships from 


cold or wet. From the evidences of hasty flight and speed, 
I judged that I must have been very near them when 
they started. Their plunging must have been desperate; 
but even on that still morning, and in a field suited for a 


a ae al a 


MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 43 


fair view, I heard not a sound nor saw the least flurry of 
snow. I felt rejoiced, however, over the prospect of success 
in a run of a few miles, and bent to the chase with a will. 

The deep, wide road they made led across the undulating 
pine park, and I followed at one side, straining my eyes to 
select the best track and to locate the game; but in a run of 
two miles, at fair speed, only the same new-made road and 
the same evidence of desperate flight rewarded me. 

At the edge of the great pine forest, the course led, at a 
gradual descent, toward the river. My speed was acceler- 
ated to the limit of safety, but the two Moose had also the 
benefit of the down-hill course, so that it was not an easy 
task to run them down; but I soon saw them pass over a 
ridge, and knew they were failing. As they were going by 
that time in the direction of the camp, I felt the thrill of 
exultation that comes with the certainty of victory. 

One rush down the smooth slope would bring me within 


range. My rifle was unslung and carried in my hand as I 


shot through the keen wind. Steadily I held my course, 
though it tried my nerve to guide my surging shoes, now 
around a curve, then past a projecting crag. I was within 
a hundred yards of the struggling quarry. They were 
steaming and puffing like overworked engines. They 
snorted blood from their noses, and stained the snow 
on either side of the trail they left, but their speed was 
unchecked. 

My pole was dragging behind; I was steadying myself 
to fire, when the game turned to the left, around some over- 
hanging rocks. The mountain was steep above, and the 
river was at a dizzy depth below. I was all eagerness to 
make a good shot, when, from neglecting to watch my 
course, I rushed upon an obstruction of rocks, and fell. 

I was injured, but was on my shoes in a few seconds. 
Another run brought me up to the game, and only thirty 
feet above them. I fired at the great bull. He staggered, 
and kept on; but a ghastly line of blood on the trail told of 
the deadly effect of the shot. The second shot was aimed 
at the shoulder of the smaller Moose. He fell at the crack 


44 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


of the rifle; but the other struggled on, bleeding, snorting, 
from a deadly shot through the lungs. I fired four shots _ 
into him before he fell. He had grown frenzied, rigid, and 
would not fall till I approached to within twenty feet and 
shot him just back of the ear. He plunged forward nee 
and buried himself in the snow. 

I stood above the fallen monarch, stupid from exhawe 
tion, and gave no further thought to the animal that I sup- 
posed lay dead four or five rods back. Suddenly I heard.a 


loud snort and felt a rush from behind. AsI dodgedto 


one side, the Moose I had thought dead charged upon me 
and fairly buried me in the snow. His rush carried him 
past me, but he turned and charged again before I recovered 
sufficiently to shoot; but his broken shoulder failed him 
when he turned, and he tumbled down-hill so that he missed 
me when he charged the next time. As he came toward 
me again, his eyes were green and his body was all shaggy _ 
with bristles. I had, however, recovered my position and — 
my nerve. My aim-was true, and I placed a bullet fairly 
_ between his eyes. 

Although the snow was seven feet deep, and this Moose, 
had a broken shoulder, it was more good fortune than any 
advantage I had that saved me from being cut to pieces by 
his feet. I am satisfied that no man can safely battle with 
a Western Moose, in any depth of snow, with any weapon 
~ other than a rifle, and a good one at that. 

These Moose were both bulls. The smaller one had shed 
his antlers, but both were still in good condition, and our 
larder was enriched with a thousand pounds of the finest 
venison that the Rocky Mountains afford. 


—— Ww 
Te ae = 
z Sead Saal Td 


Wie ere ips toe 


ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. 


By W. A. Perry (‘‘ SILLALICUM ”). 


(jer ONARCH of the wilderness! Lord of the mount- 
{\V/\( ain! King of the plain! What hunter, who has 
sought thee in thy pine-embowered home, whose 
heart-beat does not quicken and whose eye does 
not brighten at the mention of thy name! For with it 
comes the recollection of boundless prairies, grass-robed 
and flower-decked; of pine-clad, snow-capped mountains; 
of sweet breezes, gentle melodies, grand trophies. I once 
heard a dying Indian speak his last words, and they 
were these: ‘‘ To-morrow, in the Spirit Land, again shall 
I chase the Wapiti.’”’ Many a white hunter, unstained 
by the vices of society and the snares of civilization, hopes, 
as did the dying Indian, that, when he shall leave the camps 
of earth for those beyond the unknown sunset mountains, 
in the happy hunting-ground, he shall again chase the 
Wapiti. 

Excepting the Moose, the Wapiti is the largest of all the 
Deer family, and was formerly found in nearly all parts of 


the United States, in Mexico, and in British America as far 


north as the sixtieth parallel of north latitude; but he has 
vanished before the approach of civilization, and is now 
found only in the remotest mountain fastnesses west of 
the Missouri River or in the great forests of British 
America. The largest herds now remaining, outside of the 
Yellowstone National Park, are found in the Olympic 
Mountains of Washington, and among the mountains of 
Vancouver Island, British Columbia. There are still many 
remaining in the Cascade and Rocky Ranges, but they do 
not congregate there in vast herds, as they do | in the Coast 
Ranges. 


(45) * 


46 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


The color of the Elk-is: Head and neck dark brown, the 
head a shade lighter than the neck; sides, back, and thighs 
cream-colored gray; under the belly, black; legs are seal- 
brown; on the rump isa large spot of white that extends 
down on either side of the tail, joining the white between 
the legs. This white spot is bordered with black on the 
lower edges. These shades, however, vary at different sea- 
sons, and on different individuals. 

The Elk has a beautiful head, small and well-formed. 
The antlers are cylindrical, with tines long and slender. 
The pedicel, on which the antler rests, can be plainly seen 
on the calf at five months of age. This pedicel never 
appears through the skin in Elk of any age, and will vary 
in height from one to three inches in Elk of different ages. 
At one year of age, the antlers sprout from the base, and 
at eighteen months of age we have a.spike-buck, an ineip- 

cient bull Elk. These spikes sometimes grow to a length of 
thirty inches before the spike-buck is two years old. The 
spike-buck drops these horns, not as his elder brothers do, 
in the last of December or early part of January, but in 
March or April. He is proud of them, and after the old 
bucks have shed their horns, does not fail to remind them 
of the fact by goring them frequently. In traveling at 
such times, he assumes the old buck’s place at the head of 
the column; and should the band be attacked by Wolves or 
Cougars, a circle is at once formed, with the spike-bucks 
around the outer edge, and a Cougar or Wolf who makes 
the acquaintance of the young warrior will remember the 
introduction to the last day of his existence. 

In the summer of the second year, the antlers develop 
two points, in the third three, in the fourth four, and in 
the fifth five. After this, it is impossible to estimate accu- 
rately the age of a bull Elk, as there is no further regular- 
ity in the occurrence of points. In some instances, there 
are more points on one antler than on the other. 

The older bulls usually shed their horns in the last 
of December or the first half of January. When the time 
comes to drop his horns, the bull leaves the herd, seeks a 


ee 


NEE ae Ae Cee 


ee ee ee ee ee ee ee Ce a Te Oe 


ELK-HUNTING IN ‘THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. 47 


secluded thicket, and rubs his horns against a small tree 
until they drop off, when he at once rejoins the herd. The 
top of the pedicel, from which the antlers have been 
dropped, will sometimes show sores as large in circumfer- 
ence as a silver dollar. These spots, however, soon heal 
over, and the antlers sprout anew in March or April. About 
the middle of July they are in the velvet, when the bull 
again leaves the herd, and seeks an open meadow on some 
lonely mountain-peak, where there are plenty of bushes. 
He then devotes much of his time in the morning to thrash- 
ing and rubbing the bushes with his antlers, there evi- 
dently being some microbe or insect in the velvet that 
irritates the animal. There is always plenty of blood to 
be found on such thrashing-grounds. 

In the afternoon, when the sun is shining fiercely, the 
Elk will lie down in the open, exposing his antlers to its 
rays. Hunters call this hardening the horns. By the 
middle of August the horns are hardened and polished; 
then his Elkship leaves the higher ranges of the mountains, 
declares war against all other bull Elk, strides up and 
down the cafions and mountain-sides, and collects a harem 
of cows, over which he rules with Turk-like severity, unless 
deposed by some stronger and more formidable beast of his 
kind. If so deposed, he loses no time, but starts at once in 


_ search of another harem, that is, perhaps, ruled over by a 


weaker Elk than himself. A battle royal now takes place, 
and if victorious, the roamer is ruler once more; if not, he 
continues his search for a weaker potentate whom he can 
dethrone. 

In May, the Elk leave the foot-hills, and seek the higher 
ranges of mountains, going as near the snow-line as pos- 
sible, and yet not so high as to be beyond the timber-line. 
The cows leave the herd, and seek tangled thickets, where 
the calves are dropped. The cow is a tender and affec- 
tionate mother, and is immensely proud of her graceful, 
spotted infant. She will fight for it to the death if need 
be. Should a Cougar or Bear appear, or a Wolf come 
prowling near, she will at once utter a loud call, stamp her 


48 _ BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA. 


feet, and grind her teeth savagely. At the sound of her 
ery, all the Elk in the vicinity (and the bulls at this time 
are never far away) come rushing in wild haste, and woe 
betide the intruder; for, although their horns are at this 
time but feeble weapons of offense or defense, their hoofs 
are sharp, and, surrounding the intruder, they leap upon 


and trample him to pieces. By a wise provision of Nature, — 


the calves emit no scent to attract prowling carnivora, and 
so such attacks are not frequent. 

Should the cow be alarmed while feeding in company 
with the calf, she will at once stamp her foot, and the calf 
will drop to the ground and lie motionless. It will also 
‘**pnossum,’’ and should it be lifted in the arms of a human 
being, it will lie limp and motionless. Only the beautiful 
eye will betray it, as it forgets to shut its glistening orb, 
and so reveals the sham. 

The cows rarely produce more than one calf, though 
occasionally two are dropped. The calves remain with the 
cows until four or five months old; then, in company with 
their mothers, they join the larger bands. During the rut- 
ting-season the calves remain with the cows. The cow Elk 
usually drops her first calf at two years of age. | 

The natural gait of the Elk isa walk. They trot or gal- 
lop when alarmed, but can not sustain the latter gait for 
any great length of time. During the rutting-season, or 
shortly before it begins, when traveling, the bulls are always 
in advance, the cows and fawns in the center, and the rear 
is brought up by the spike-bulls. No body of trained 
soldiers could move with more discipline or regularity than 
a herd of Elk. The band always acknowledges one leader, 
the largest and strongest bull in the herd. Should he be 
shot, the band falls into hopeless confusion, and rushes 
about like demented creatures. The Indian hunters, aware 
of this fact, will follow on the trail of a band day after 
day, often refusing good opportunities to slay other mem- 
bers of the band, until an opportunity #8 afforded of shoot- 
ing the leader. When this is done, the remaining members 
of the band fall victims one by one. 


7 ah : ay oe ae fe Se —— ey - . [= -e ig TO ea a — eS ee eee se _ =r ey or ile ¥ 
i a i a a a a a i aa a a i a i it gl iiss 
ree 
. 1 
yo 


Sk ae baa aoe 


ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. 49 


Nothing is more interesting than to witness a battle 
between two old bull Elks. The challenger, when approach- 
ing a band, or harem, blowsa loud whistle of defiance. (‘Take 
a half-pint bottle and blow strongly into it, and the sound 
so produced will be similar to the call of the bull Elk during 
the rutting-season.) This whistle is at once answered by 
the ruler of the herd, who steps boldly forth to do battle 
with the intruder. With heads lowered between their fore 
feet, the two adversaries walk around - waiting for an 
opening, and when one is thrown off his guard, the other 
makes a savage rush; but his opponent instantly regains, 
counters the charge, and as they rush together, the horns 
strike each other with such terrific force that the report can 
be heard for a long distance. Slowly retreating, bellowing, 
grumbling, and grinding their teeth in a paroxysm of rage, 
they again circle around, and when an opportunity is 


_ afforded, make another charge, which is countered as 


before. The challenging Elk usually does most of the 
offensive fighting until he finds (if such be the case) that 
he is the weaker; then he sullenly retires, bellowing as 
he goes. These battles are seldom fatal, and during rut- 
ting-season are an every-day occurrence. Ugly wounds 
often result from them, and sometimes a prong of an 
antler is broken in the affray. 

There has been a great deal of controversy in the various 
sportsmen’s papers concerning the relative size and weight 
of the Elk. On the Pacific Coast they grow larger than in 
the Rocky Mountain regions, and will average, for cows, 
about four hundred pounds; for bulls, about seven hundred. 
Of course there are exceptions to this. I have seen an Elk 
that would weigh at least eleven hundred pounds; but he 
was the Jumbo of his species, and would stand at least 
seventeen hands high, as they measure horses. The Elk is a 
deceiving animal in regard, to weight, being short-bodied 
and having long legs. 

For so kingly an appearing creature, the Elk is a very 
common feeder. He does not hanker, like his smaller 
brother, the Black-tailed Deer, for the potato-patch, the 


5O BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


clover-field, the springing wheat, or the bark of the apple- 
trees that grow in the ranchman’s fields or orchards, 
True, when in severe winters the deep snows that have 
fallen on the mountains drive herds of Elk down into the 
settled valleys, they frequently join the settler’s cattle, and 
remain on good terms with the latter, but usually soon fall 
victims to the ranchman’s rifle. 

Their principal food consists of grasses, mosses, and 
lichens. In times of continued storms, they browse and 
keep fat for weeks on the boughs and bark of maple, alder, 
willow, and cottonwood trees; but if the snow is not too 


deep, they paw the ground bare, in order to procure grass, ° 


lichens, and mosses. In the spring, they follow the receding 
snows until they reach the higher mountain valleys—their 
summer quarters and breeding-grounds. Here the grass, 
nipped weekly by frosts, is sweet, and just to their taste. 

No sight could be more interesting to the hunter-natu- 
ralist than to watch a herd of Elk feeding in one of these 
secluded mountain valleys. If there be a stream running 
through the valley, bordered by a sand-bar, the entire 
band makes this their sleeping-place; and the bands always 
assume the same position in sleeping—the calves, cows, and 
yearlings in the center, and the bucks around the outer 
edge of the circle, so that in case of a night attack by 
Wolves or Panthers the strongest will meet the first onset 
of the foe. 

Unlike others of the Deer tribe, the Elk do not often 
feed at night, but are stirring with the earliest dawn. 
Nothing is so indescribably beautiful as the motion of the 
head of an Elk when grazing. It is the very poetry of 
motion spiritualized. When the band is feeding, the leader 
will, every few minutes, stop grazing, elevate his head, and 
scan the valley for signs of danger. They feed until about 


eight o’clock in the morning, and then retire to their sand- | 


bar; or if it be in the time of rubbing the velvet from their 
horns, the bulls seek their thrashing-grounds, and rub their 
horns vigorously. Then they lie down on some open south- 
ern hill-side, and expose their horns to the rays of the sun. 


ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. 51 


While resting in the middle of the day, they can be 
easily approached. About four o’clock in the afternoon, 
they leave the sand-bar, or sunning-ground, and again seek 
the meadow, where they graze until dusk, when they retire 
to the sand-bar for the night. 

In winter, they gather in large bands, and are constantly 
on the move; while they may not travel out of a small 
valley, yet they are in motion, seeking food. At this time 
they develop very hog-like characteristics for so grand an 
animal. With them it is the universal rush of the strong 
against the weak; and if the tiny calf of the band paws up a 
tender morsel of lichen, the grandest bull in the circle does 
not hesitate to drive her away and appropriate it himself. 

The feeding-ground of a band of Elk, in winter, often 
resembles a farm-yard, the snow being trodden down, and 
packed as hard as ice, and the trees, if aspen, birch, or 
willow, have most of the bark eaten off. All the smaller 
branches within reach are eaten, the animals often standing 
on their hind legs in order to reach the highest. 

A popular method of hunting the Elk when he inhab- 
ited the great prairies was to run him on horseback. He is 
usually still-hunted in the forests and mountains, dogs 
being but seldom used. The weapons used by the Indians 
were bows and arrows, spears, and guns. Since this noble 
game has been driven from the prairies, there remains only 
the still-hunt and the Indian method of waiting on run- 
ways, surrounding the band, and then driving them over 
some precipice. ; 

In former days, when Elk were hunted on horseback, 
almost anything in the shape of a gun (or large caliber 
pistol) was considered sufficient for the purpose, as the 
trained horse would bring the hunter so near that he could 
place his gun against the animal, and could hardly fail to 
bring it down; but in the mountains this condition of things 
is reversed, and in pursuing this game the very best arm | 
obtainable should be used. ; 

True, when compared with others of the Deer family, 
the Elk is easily killed. A shot that a Black-tailed Deer 


2 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


would carry for several miles before lying down will lay 
an Elk out in one-third the distance. In winter, when 
there is a good tracking snow on the ground, a wounded 
Elk may be followed, though at a great expense of time and 
labor, and will sometimes be found in a place where it is 
almost impossible to secure the antlers or meat, as when 
wounded they will endeavor to reach the most inaccessible 
places. 

In my opinion, the best arm for hunting the Elk is the 
Winchester, in the larger bores—40-82, 45-90, or, best of all, — 
the new 110-300 Express. I have given this gun an exhaust- 
ive trial on large game, and do not hesitate to pronounce it 
the best rifle for big game hunting that human ingenuity 
has yet produced. Light, strong, and rapid of manipula- 
tion, terrific in killing power, there is no animal on this con- 
tinent that can escape from a cool, nervy man armed with 
one of these superb weapons. Some sportsmen object to 
the heavy recoil of this rifle, but a recoil that is uncomfort- 
able when shooting ata target is never felt in the excite- 
ment of game-shooting, and it is evident, from my own 
experience, that a wound from one of these bullets leaves 
such a trail of blood that it can be followed over bare 
ground by the veriest novice. 

The 40-82 isa good substitute, when the Express bullet 
is used. So is the 45-90; but while they will do the work, 
I do not consider them as sure as the 110-300. One of my 
hunting companions, a man who has killed more Deer and 
Elk than any man of my acquaintance, uses a 44-caliber 
Winchester, Model’73. With him that gun was the only gun 
worth owning until he tried my Express. Since then, when 
a difficult shot is to be made, when we are hunting together, 
he stands back, and calls me to use the ‘‘ thunderbolt.”’ 

One disadvantage in using a common small-bore rifle is 
that, in moments of excitement, the novice frequently for- 
gets to elevate his sights, and so frequently undershoots 
his quarry. With the Express, I find that it is almost point- 
blank up to two hundred yards, so that no changing of ele- 
vation is necessary. 


7 


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ad Ni A tl el Se ee ee ee PR a a ee a ee ate aaie a eee . —_- 
a aa rie - A TT ee nT ee ae ET TE 
x a la ae a 


ee. ae 
7 fee 


ne ear 


Tf ee Id Te ee ee ee 


ee Ne Ter ak ae No FY ee vena ee 


‘ ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. 53 


The principal Indian method of hunting the Elk, in the 
Olympic Range, is by driving them over precipices. Select- 
ing a well-known spot, on a well-traveled Elk-trail, they 
will lie in wait for weeks, until a band appears coming down 
the mountain. The place usually selected is one where the 
trail curves around some great rock, just at the edge of 
a precipice a hundred feet or more in height. A scout, 
stationed high up the mountain, gives notice of the approach 
of a band, and then the Indians mass at the lower end of the 
curve, while others conceal themselves above the curve. 
As soon as the band passes these latter, they spring to their 
feet, rush down the trail, yelling and firing guns. The’ 
Indians at the lower end of the curve do the same, and the 
Elk, finding themselves surrounded, leap over the cliff and 
are crushed on the rocks below. The Siwash is lazy and 
cruel. Sometimes, after driving a large herd over a cliff, 
some of them will be found alive, near the Indians’ camp, a 
week later, with every limb shattered. At one time I expost- 
ulated with an Indian on this needless cruelty, when he 
replied: ‘‘ Meat keeps better living than dead. When I 
want to-eat him, I will kill him.”’ In that case it was not 
the survival of the fittest, for the Wapiti is far the nobler 


animal of the two. 


Many years ago, when the Elk were abundant on the 
plains, the favorite method employed by the Indians of 
hunting them was on horseback. When information was 
brought to an Indian village that a band of this favorite 
game had been sighted, all was excitement, confusion, and 
eagerness. The best Buffalo-horses were at once caught and ~ 
saddled, and the most expert hunters mounted on them. 
Like all other species of Cervide, Elk are prone to run in a 
circle when alarmed. Taking advantage of this habit, the 
hunters would divide in two or three bodies, and would 
ride in different directions, always keeping to windward, 
until the band were partially surrounded. 

Then one of the hunters who rode a fleet horse would 
be sent to startle the band. As soon as he appeared, the 
Elk would start off, on their long, sweeping trot, and 


54 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA. 


should there be a conical mound or hill in sight, would 
make for it. Reaching it, they would halt on its summit, 
and look back at the pursuer. No sooner would they 
catch sight of him, than off they would go again, sweeping 
down the hill with the same swift stride. When they 
reached the foot of the hill, a hunter would rise, like 
an apparition, out of some cowlee, or clump of bushes; then, 
the terrified Elk would turn and run directly up the hill 
again. The hunter who had chased them down would now 
turn and gallop up the hill and down the other side as fast 
as his horse could carry him, and at the foot of the hill he 
would hide ina clump of bushes, a ravine, or other cover. 

Swiftly down the-hill would sweep the Elk, with their 
seemingly untired stride, and, when near the foot, the 


apparition that had so terrified them on the other side. 


would rise before them again; swiftly they would wheel 
and head up the hill again. Great spots of foam now clot 
their sides, and is wreathed about their mouths. The leader 
changes his sweeping trot to a lumbering gallop; the 
hunter in pursuit utters a ringing whoop, which is faintly 
echoed by hunters in the distance again and again. 


Soon, mounted hunters are riding up the hill from — 


every quarter. The lumbering gallop of the Elk grows 
slower and slower. Presently, the proud leader falls, pierced 
by an arrow or a ball; then, the band falls into confusion, 
and gallops aimlessly about in all directions 

Nearer come the riders. So well do they sit in the sad- 


dle, that the horse and the rider seem to be one creature. ’ 


They rush upon the doomed Elk. Then, the trained Buf- 
falo-horse selects his victim and gallops alongside. If a 
cow, the frightened animal hastens its speed; if a bull, he 
lowers his head between his fore feet, and charges his pur- 
suer. His mad rush is, however, easily eluded by the 
_ trained horse, who leaps away, and in another second is 
again at the side of the panting Elk. The Indian places 
his gun at the Elk’s brisket, and fires. If the victim does 
not drop instantly, he fires again; and the noble brute falls, 
dying, on the grass. | 


— so 


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; m t ; a . oer Tel: frais ee Soy Oe te ame a ala X by Nites ees > Piet “7 

are Wikeded : bie aris oe a As Ui. eee ee a Wn De! ae SS ae ee ee ee Sp be 
a Soe SEs ee he Bg al, SORT ae: = Bs aa sis a ae ee eT ey a 


fd 


ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. 55 


The horse continues his wild pursuit; the Indian, stand- 
ing in his stirrups, drops a charge of powder, from a flask 
that hangs at his side, into each barrel.* Then, sinking 
into his saddle again, he takes from his mouth two bullets 
that fit loosely in the barrels. Now, raising the gun in his 
left hand as high as possible, he strikes a heavy blow on 
the stock with his right, in order to settle the bullets in 
their places; then, cocking both barrels, he quickly places 
a cap on each nipple, striking the gun another heavy 
blow in order to jar the powder into the nipples, and he 
is ready to slaughter another Elk, if all have not already 
fallen before the murderous guns and arrows of the other 
Indians. 

This was the most exciting of all methods of hunting 
the Elk, and many an old hunter, who reads this sketch, 
will recall the wild scenes of the day when he rode on 
such an Elk-hunt, in company with the degraded, filthy, 
unprincipled Crees, whose only redeeming virtues were-a 
good seat in the saddle and a bright eye for game. May 
this reminiscence also bring back the breezy freshness of 
the boundless prairie, when the trembling hand that, per- 
chance, is now weak and nerveless was strong and brawny; 
when the step that now falters was bounding and elastic; 
when the eye that is now fading was as piercing as that 
of an eagle in its searching gaze. 

Still-hunting is now the most sportsman-like method of 
hunting the Elk. True, it lacks the wild delirium of excite- 
ment that is felt in madly galloping over a prairie with 
such noble game in sight, vainly endeavoring to escape; 
for this was a sight that must send the life-blood bounding 
through every vein. Yet, the still-hunter, when he stands 
over the fallen monarch whom he has followed stealthily 
for many hours, when the match was cunning against cun- 
ning, when it was reason against instinct, now has ample 
cause to be proud of his work. 


* The guns used by the Cree Indians, in the hunt that I have described, 
were muzzle-loading shotguns, 16 bore, and had the barrels sawn off until 
only fifteen inches in length. 


56 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


The Elk, though not so wary as the Black-tailed Deer, is 
far more difficult to approach than the Virginia Deer. It 
has sharp scent, and unusually good eyesight; and, in 
stalking it, these facts should be remembered. If in level 
woods, work against the wind; when you stop, scan every- 
thing within the range of your vision. Then, if you fail to 


see what you are in search of, look for a tree in line with. 


you that is easy of approach; make for it as swiftly and 
noiselessly as possible. When you reach it, keep behind 
it and take a view, first on one side, then on the other. 
If you see nothing, select another tree in advance, 
and keep on as before; avoid springing on or over high 
logs. 

Tt you see the slightest motion, stop instantly; the Elk 
has a large, mule-like ear, that it is constantly moving 
during insect-time. When you see what you think to be 
the shadow of a passing bird ora leaping squirrel, stop. 
If, after intently looking, you can not distinguish what it 
is, try and get another tree in range, and approach nearer. 


Look close to the ground; your Elk may be lying down. 


Cautiously approach still nearer. When you reach the 
spot, a covey of blue grouse rush into the air with a 
startling whir. Fooled, weren’t you? No, you were not 
fooled; you did just as every experienced hunter would 
have done. Again you proceed just as before, dodging 
behind the trees, with the wind in your face. Soon you 
reach a pebbly brook. You lay your gun down, stretch your- 
self at full length, and imbibe; then you smack your lips. 
Never was wine so sweet. When you raise your head, 
an odor, subtle and sweet, greets your nostrils. It is the 
breath of the balsams; yet no balm from Araby could be 
more grateful. What is that sound that comes sighing 


like the song of the sea? Nothing but the gentle breeze. 


among the cedar and fir branches overhead. 

As you step across the brook, you see a track in the 
sand. You start! Yes, he has been here. Again you look 
intently. The firm imprint of the sand defines the track 
as clearly as if it had been carved there by a sculptor. 


a Se ee a, eT a geet Te 


Pee eee ee ee 


a a ae 


CET ee a ee eae AL 


ee, ee ea ee Se Te Ly Sey Se ene ee el OOTY 


inte ta 


— 


~~ 


ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. D7 


A quiver of excitement thrills your frame, old hunter 
though you are. Then you begin to advance quickly and 
swiftly against the wind. Recollecting yourself, you stop, 
look around, and then advance slowly, keeping concealed 
as much as possible. The single track has multiplied into 
many. See, the moss has been pawed off that log, and 
there a little branch has been torn from a bough of that 
birch. 

Yet you move slowly onward. Half an hour has passed 
‘ since you saw the foot-print by the brook-side. In all that 
time you have not come more than a hundred yards. 
What if you haven’t? you have done just right in moving 
slowly. Presently you reach a little opening. You stand 
behind a tree, and look on one side; then, turning, you look 
around the other. What was that that caught your eye? 
Was it the shadow of a bird? No, it could not be, for it is 
repeated again and again. Looking intently, you are able 
to discern, through the tangled undergrowth, a small head 
crowned with branching antlers. You move a step to the 
right, and now it is clearly defined. against the green back- 
ground of fir-boughs; there is another, and still another. 
Your heart gives a great bound, and then grows almost 
still. The Elk are too far away for a sure shot, yet they 
are within:one hundred yards of being in line with you. 
Every moment you expect to hear the shrill whistle of 
alarm, and to see your long-sought-for quarry vanish in 
the greenery beyond. 

Like a shadow you sink to the ground. Over the sward 
you creep like a serpent. You grasp a stick that lays in 
your way, but drop it likeaflash. It is only a ‘‘devil’s 
war-club,”’ old and dry, but it has left a hundred spines 
bristling in your hand. If you are human, you will swear, 
but softly, and with bated breath. Onward you creep. 
The stream is reached. Youspring to your feet, and swiftly 
move, at right angles, away from the point where you saw 
the Elk. As you move, your angle grows less. Then you 
stop, turn around, and again, like a shadow, flit from tree 
to tree. You fear you may have failed to mark correctly. 


58 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


But no! See that towering dead cedar? Just to the right 
of it is the spot where his regal antlership stood. That 
tree is yet a hundred yards away, and between it 
and you the branches are low and interlacing. Your 
steps grow painfully slow. You can hear the beating 
of your heart. Even silence makes a sound. Slowly you 
advance. Again does that deadly fear cause your heart 
to beat slowly, faintly. They have heard you, and have 
fled! 


Suddenly you stop, then start as though you had. 


received an electric shock. There, standing not twenty-five 
yards away, is the monarch. Such a picture he is, too! 
Standing sidewise, with his head turned and his nose 
elevated so that his horns lie directly over his shoulder, 
he sniffs the tainted air. He has not seen you, but he has 
scented you. His large ears flip forward and back. You 
become aware that other forms are behind him; that other 


eyes are looking for the danger the patriarch has signaled. 


Quick! They will be away ina moment. Up with the rifle! 
See his shoulder? There is where his heart is—an inch or two 
behind it. Hold but a fraction of a second. Think; some- 
times he will run for two hundred yards if shot through 
the heart. Bang! He won’t go far. Click! click! bang! 
A good shot. The spike-buck’s neck is broken. A still 
. better shot, for he was stopped at full trot. 

Click! click! See those funny white patches that are 


vanishing, and then appearing over where the old 


buck galloped? Don’t stop to cut thé bull’s throat. Find 
the old fellow. What great splotches of red on the ground! 
The Express has done its work well. Run! you can’t alarm 


. anything now. Swiftly you dart away. Ha! what's this? 


Struggling in death lies the fallen monarch. Over him, 


looking intently at him, is a large cow. Beyond are several — 


pairs of horns and ears. Eyes are peering at you from the 
underbrush. The cow sees you, and, with a squeal of alarm, 
starts off on her long, swinging trot. You see the least 
glimpse of light on the ivory bead, and press the trigger. 
You held just half an inch in front of her fore leg. She 


re Pa eee ee 
ee ee eS 


a Ee OE en a A 


ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. 59 


sinks down in her tracks before you hear the report, shot 
through the heart and her shoulder shattered. 

Now out with your knife; seize her by the ear and slash 
her across the throat. Pick up your gun.- Now do the 
same for’the old bull. Not much blood in him, eh? Well, 
he pumped lots of it out in making those few jumps. Pick 
up your gun. Now for the spike-bull. Hark! A crashing 
in the bushes, and a bull as large as the monarch comes 
striding along, with his nose pointing straight out and his 
horns flat along his sides. Bang! bang! He stops, wavers, _ 
reels, then falls, shuddering, to the ground. Confess the 
truth. You were startled. You are not sorry you brought 
your gun with you, instead of leaving it where you cut the 
cow’s throat, are you? Fill up your magazine, and then 
cut the throats of these two. When you reach the last 
bull, what do you see? Blood gushing out of four wounds, 
and all of them fatal. Now cut the throat of that spike- 
bull, and sit down on him. : 

What is that crashing you hear among the bushes in ~ 
various directions? Only Elk hunting for their leader. You 
rise and seize your gun. Sitdown. You are a gentleman; 
not a prowling market-hunter; nor yet a filthy reprobate 
of a skin-hunter. Haven't you heads and antlers to adorn 
your home richly, and beef enough to last two families a 
whole year? Sit down. What more do you want? If you 
are a@ cuss as writes, you will send a description of this 
scene to some sportsman’s paper. You will tell how guilty 
you felt, how you blushed, when those bright, appealing 
eyes were turned on you, when their owner felt the cruel 
knife. (They were all dead when you reached them.) Then 
you will wander off, and gush about rose-tinted forests, and 
the winds sighing requiems through the pines. All these 
brilliant and intricate lies you will tell, just because it is the 
custom to tell them. Try and be manly about it. You did 
kill those beautiful creatures. You are glad you did so. 
It was a difficult thing to do. It was intellect against 
instinct. It was reason against cunning. You have won 
your laurels; and as the eyes of the monarch gaze down 


60 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


upon you from the walls, you proudly tell your boys the 


story. Asa skillful woodsman, an expert hunter, they will. 


always have cause to revere you. 

If you are hunting in company with others, and are not 
too far from camp, go to where the cow lies. Cut around 
her hock, split the skin up to the center of the body, above 
and thon below. Don’t be afraid of spoiling the skin, for, 
except as amemento, the skin of the Elk is worthless. Then, 
from the round, cut a plentiful supply of rich, juicy meat 
for all hands at camp. ‘Then start off on your homeward 
way. 

But stop. Consider a moment. Hadn't the intestines 
bétter be removed? Yes; a good idea. If you are a practi- 
cal hunter, this won’t take you long; but if you are a novice, 
it will bother you considerably. When done, no matter 
how roughly, you will feel better satisfied. Now, can any- 
thing else be done? Yes; set the big cedar on fire, if the 
woods are damp, so that there is no danger of the fire spread- 
ing. It will serve as a beacon to guide you back to your 
game, and will also serve to frighten prowling Wolves and 
Panthers away. To think is to act. The great cedar is 
hollow. A few dry branches piled in the cavity, the flash of 
a match, a cloud of smoke curls up, and the fire roars like a 
furnace. Now you may'start for camp. 

Arriving there, you approach with all the dignity that 
becomes a victorious warrior. When your companions see 
your load, they will cluster around you, and beg of you the 
tale to unfold. But this is no time for unfolding; so you 
calmly state that you are ahungered, and likely to die of 
starvation, and that a thrilling tale will be lost to the world 
if you are not soon fed. Then your companions will bring 
forth the standard food and the thickest drink that the 
camp affords, and you will dine like a prince. 

After dinner, you will take a seat near the fire, on some- 
thing soft, with your head pillowed on a convenient tree. 
Then willing hands will fill your pipe, light it, bring it to you, 
and you find that you, who were this morning abused and 
chafed as a tenderfoot and a sorry hunter, are the honored 


Pe Ta 


ee a eee ee * 


ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. 61 


one of the whole outfit. Then, as the smoke of your pipe 
curls slowly upward, you will relate, in measured cadences, 
the story of the Wapiti that fell victims to your skill 
in the odorous forest green; and, as you close, you point to 
the halo of light that reddens in the evening sky from the 
great cedar, and say: ‘‘ Now to rest, for to-morrow at day- 
break we must go forth and bring in the meat and heads.”’ 
Your friends do not retire, however, till near morning; and, 
as they tarry by the camp-fire, oft and again is heard the siz- 
zling of steaks over the coals. Long will the flavor of those 
juicy steaks be remembered, for there is no animal that 
runs on legs whose flesh is so dainty, so tender, and so 
nutritious as that of the Wapiti. 


Mr. L. L. Bales, an old-time hunting companion, sends 
me the following description of an Elk-hunt in Sultan 
Basin, Washington: 

‘*Tt was on the first day of June, 1887, that my compan- 
ion and self arrived at the Horseshoe Bend mining-camp. 
We were surprised to find a good log house, well supplied 
with ‘grub,’ and all the mining-tools necessary to run a 
hydraulic mine, where we expected to find nothing but 
a ‘lean-to.2 We were on a cruising expedition for the 
purpose of locating hunting and trapping grounds for 
the ensuing season. After a short consultation, we con- 
cluded to send our pack-animals back to the Skikomish 
River, and make the camp our headquarters for the next 
month. 

‘* We were puzzled over the appearance of everything in 
and about the camp. It looked as though the occupants 
had left but yesterday; but from knowledge we had gained 
in the settlements, and from a few lines written on a piece 
of paper and tacked on the door, we learned that the last 
occupant had left just six months before; also that we were 
welcome to the use of the house, but were cautioned to be 
careful of fire. With this understanding, we pulled the 
‘ latch-string and walked in, when a wild-looking house-cat 
rushed out. 


62 - BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


‘‘In a short time we had cooked and eaten supper, and 


began to plan our movements for the morrow. My com- 


panion concluded to cruise near camp, while I was to 
take a light pack and start for Sultan Basin, the head of 
Sultan River, twenty-two miles, distant, through a rough 
country. The underbrush was of a dense, rank growth, 
and there was no sign of a trail. Daylight the next morn- 
ing found me ready for my trip. Somehow or other, I 
found my partner’s hand in mine as I said: ‘If I am not 
back here at five o'clock in the afternoon, ten days hence, 
you can go back to the settlements, as something will have 
happened to me, and in these trackless, evergreen forests it 
would be useless to search for me.’ I felt the honest grip 
of his hand as he said: 

‘** Tf you are not back here in eleven days, I will start on 
the twelfth to hunt you up. So long!’ 

‘* With these parting words, I turned my face to the north 
and started on my long and lonely tramp. At ten o’clock 
on the morning of the fourth day I found myself on a high, 
wooded mountain, just below timber-line. Away to the 
west of me I could hear the roaring of some stream, while 
north of where I stood a giant snow-peak reared ifs mighty 
head. While I listened, I could distinguish the distant 
roaring of three different rivers. What is that stream to 
the northwest? That is the Sauk, a tributary to the Skagit. 


And that on the west? That is the Stillaguamish. And | 


that on the southwest? It is the Pillchuck, or Red Water. 
And this great valley lying at my feet? This is the Sultan 
Basin, a valley six miles long, two wide, hemmed in by 
great high mountains—a great big hole in the ground, just 
twenty-two miles from nowhere. 

‘Flanking a huge washout on my right, I began the 
descent into the basin. By dint of rolling, tumbling, and 
sliding a distance of over a mile; I reached level ground 


on the banks of what was left of Sultan River. It was. 


quiet enough here in comparison to a few miles below, 
where to look down on the river, between the narrow 
walls of the cafion, would make you dizzy, while the river 


we 
Ce Se ere ee ee se eee ee ee ae 


SS 


ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. 63 


appeared like a white ribbon below. I soon made my camp, 
caught a few fine trout, had supper, and turned in for the 
night. : 

‘The next morning I started early to explore the basin, 
look for game and fur signs, calculating to use my first 
camp as a home-camp while stopping in the basin. The river 
was low, as the June freshets had not yet come down, and 
in every bend of the river, either on one side or the 
other, were great gravel-bars, sometimes one hundred and 
fifty yards wide and one-fourth of a mile long. I soon 
struck one of these bars. Elk-signs were plenty; also the 
natural enemies of the Elk, the Cougar and Timber Wolf, 
had been there. 

‘*There were some Cinnamon and Bald-faced Bears, and 
very few Beaver signs. As I calculated to stay in the basin 
a few days, | wanted some Elk-meat. I kept a sharp look- 
out for that kind of game. I would take a few steps, and 
look carefully at everything within my range of vision, 
occasionally looking over that portion I had just passed 
that was still in range. 

‘Thump! thump! thump! Listen! Isn’t that a Deer 
jumping? Oh, no, my boy! that is your heart beating. 
And, reader, if there is a heart in you, and you had been 
with me, your heart would have beaten too; for what had 
looked like a mass of dead tree-limbs, I just then discov- 
ered was the velvet-covered horns of six bull Elk. 

‘* And now to stalk them. I felt satisfied that I was, as 
yet, unobserved. They were fully three hundred yards 
away, in plain view, lying down with their heads toward 
me. They were on the opposite side of the river, near the 
water. You will recollect this was about ten o’clock in the 
day, and how I had come into full view of those Elk with- 
out their seeing me, when there was not so much as a twig 
between us, is something I never could answer satisfac- 
torily; but I did take ten minutes to get from a standing to 
a lying position, and twenty more minutes to roll off of that 
gravel-bar to the friendly cover of an alder-thicket near by. 
The rest was easy. In another half-hour I was within forty 


64 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


yards of the Elk, with nothing but the river and a salmon- 
berry bush between us. 

‘‘And now for a half-hour of close observation that 
money can not buy. There they were, six noble fellows, 
the smallest being a spike-bull and the largest a six- 
pointer. Do Elk chew the cud? Yes; just the same as 
domestic cattle. I now perceived why the Elk were lying 
near the water. There seemed to be a cold strata of air, 
kept in motion by the water, that drove the mosquitoes 
from the open bar back into the brush. 

‘‘The Elk were all lying with their heads down-stream. 
How grand they looked in repose! How I did long for a 
camera! There were sets of antlers there (in the velvet) 

that would have weighed seventy-five pounds. How leis- 
—urely the old chaps chewed ‘their cuds! How unconscious 
of danger they seemed! I leveled my rifle at the head of a 
three-point bull (being the smallest I could get a shot at), 
and pressed the trigger. 

‘“The others never ceased chewing their cud. They 
seemed to think the sound had been caused by the break- 
ing and falling of some dry limb of a tree. A defect- 
ive cartridge? No, I guess the sights of my rifle must 


3 _ have got moved some way. No, they are all right. May 


be the gun is excited? No, it seemed to be as cool as 
possible under the circumstances. I then began to exam- 
ine myself. I thought I was all right, too; so I tried — 
again. 

‘* Now all was confusion. Yes, I hit the Elk, but too 
low down on the head, breaking the lower jaw. The Elk 
were turning in all directions, yet I kept my eye on my 
wounded bull, and fired again, breaking a fore leg. Another 
shot broke a hind leg. This left him floundering in the 
water. I hurried across, and as I approached him, he 
turned his hair forward and made a lunge at me. As his 
lower jaw was broken, his mouth looked as large as an alli- 
gator’s. I finally succeeded in killing him. I skinned him, 
and took about forty pounds of meat; and that, with the 
hide, was all I could carry. 


ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. 65 


‘‘ By this time the sun was nearly down, and I started 
for camp. I had just crossed back to the other side of the 
river again, and had sat down to rest near an Elk-trail, in 
an alder-thicket, when I thought I heard a light foot-fall. 
I could see about twenty feet back on the trail, and there 
sat a hungry-looking Timber Wolf. He had struck my 
trail, smelt the fresh meat, and followed me. I quietly 
unslung my pack, leveled my rifle, and shot him in the 
neck. As I took his scalp I gave a good old Comanche 
yell; for if there is anything I like to scalp, it is a Timber 
Wolf and a Cougar. esa 
The next day I killed S CxKe 
six Timber Wolves - ee 
around the remains 
of that Elk. I have 
often killed two or 
three Elk in one day, » 
and could have killed 
more, yet I never _ 
was on an Elk-hunt & 
that I enjoyed as I = 
did that one. : 

‘* At four o’clock 
in the afternoon of i ® 
the tenth day, I was & 
back to the mining- 
eamp, and found that Elk Calf, 
my partner had killed two Bears and caught ten Beavers 
while I was gone.”’ 


And now to relate another piece of my own experience 
in Wapiti-hunting. In the fall of 18871 went, with a party 
of friends, on a hunting expedition to a large lake that 
nestles among the pine-clad foot-hills beneath the shadows 
of snow-capped peaks of the Olympic Mountains, Washing- 
ton. The Makah Indians, whose village, Osette, stands at 
the mouth of the caiion up which the only trail to the lake 
leads, guard this beautiful sheet of water with supersti- 


- 


66 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


tious veneration. No white man had ever before been per- 
mitted to visit it, and it was only by the exercise of a great 
deal of diplomacy that we were able to overcome the objec- 
tions of the chief and gain his consent to hunt on the shores 
of the lake. He finally consented, however, and sent three 
of his young men to guide us in and carry our camp 
equipage. 

On arriving at the lake we separated, two of our party 
going on one side, and I on the other. 

I soon came to an arm of the lake that extended at least 
two miles into the woods, and that was a quarter of a mile 


wide. While looking toward the opposite shore, I saw water - 


splashed high in the air, and began to wonder if whales 
inhabited the mystic lake. Keeping in the cover of the 
woods until I reached the bank opposite where the disturb- 
ance was, I saw a band of eighteen Elk, sixteen of them 
standing in a body, watching a terrific battle between two 
large bulls. Although the lake was at least a quarter of a 
mile wide, I could hear the clash of their horns when they 
rushed on each other. A grander sight than these two 
majestic forest monarchs presented could not be imagined. 


Whirling round and round went the two gladiators, each 


endeavoring to find an unguarded point on his adversary’s 
side. When one was off his guard, the other would rush at 
him, and the report would come plainly to my ears. I 
grew excited, and determined to have a hand in the fray. 
The only way in which I could reach them was to cireum- 
vent the lake; so I started on a run round the head of it. 

The beach afforded a splendid running-ground, and I 
lost no time until I reached a point within half a mile of 
the place where I knew the Elk to be. Stopping a moment 
to catch my wind, I could not resist the temptation to look 
and see if the Elk were still fighting; but the battle was 
over, and the defeated Elk was walking up the beach toward 
me, roaring and bellowing as he came, while the victor had 
rejoined his harem. 

The conquered Elk then turned off the beach into the 
marsh. As a path led from the beach to the marsh, from 


FO ee a ee ae ea Ne ey NER 


Posierte as 

Rie We h 

eA ee ai, 
Pertisies 


Pete 


3 Se try leer FO 


a ee 


ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. 67 


where I stood, I started on a run to head him off. I 
reached the center of the marsh just as he emerged from 
the woods, not more than one hundred yards distant. He 
stopped, and began to bellow and paw up the ground; then 
turned and looked in the direction of the herd he was ban- 
ished from by his younger, stronger, and more active rival. 
At last he turned and came slowly up to within thirty 
yards of me. I fired five shots, each of which took effect 
behind his shoulder; but the little 44 Winchester, with 
which I was then armed, was too light a weapon for such 
heavy game, and not until [ran up and planted the sixth 
ball at the butt of his ear, did he stop.. Then he reared on 
his hind legs, his horns looming up like a small tree-top, 
and fell backward, driving them deeply into the soft ground. 
My dog now rushed forward and grasped him by the ear. 
The bull tried to struggle to his feet, but his imbedded horns 
held him fast, witha twisted neck. Iran up to him, cut his 
throat, and secured one of the finest pairs of antlers I have 
ever seen. This wasa large animal, and would have weighed 
at least eight hundred pounds. | 
Leaving the Elk, I went cautiously up the trail, and 
found that the others were not alarmed by my firing, but 
were standing in a group near the place where I first saw 
them. Creeping up with noiseless step, and keeping behind 
alarge fir, I drew within one hundred yards of them, and, 
selecting a fat cow, fired, and broke her back. At the 
report of the rifle the herd started up the beach, with their 
long, swinging trot, the cavalcade headed by the victor in 
the late unpleasantness. I fired several shots at the leader 
of the band. He fell behind the herd, broke into a clumsy 


- gallop, and went crashing off into a thicket. That was the 


last I saw of him, for the underbrush was so dense that it 
was impossible to follow him after he left the beach. My 
dog by this time had the herd at bay, on a point about two_ 
hundred yards below. Reloading my magazine as I ran, 
when I came within one hundred yards of the confused 
mass of Elk I fired a shot at them; a yearling buck left the’ 
group, rushed into the water, and fell dead. The band 


68 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


ran around the bend, closely pursued by the dog, and ina 
short time I knew by his barking that he had them at bay 
again. 


Running in the direction of where the dog was barking, 


as soon as I rounded the bend I saw a beautiful sight. 
About one hundred and fifty yards distant, three Elk were 
in the water up to their knees. They were standing in the 
form of a triangle, with their heads outward, and the dog 
was circling around them. Their method of protection was 
complete; it was death to the hound had he dared to 


venture within reach of those horns or hoofs. Raising the - 


sights of my rifle, I fired three shots, each of which fortu- 
nately found vital spots, and the three Elk soon lay dead 
in the water. 2 

As the majority of the herd had run up the Elk-trail 
which wound, broad and well defined, up the banks of a 
creek that emptied into the lake at this point, I started in 
pursuit. I had not-gone far when I heard the dog barking, 
and a few moments later an Elk came rushing down the 
trail, with the dog howling at his heels. I sprang into the 
bushes, and holding my rifle at my hip, fired, striking him 
in the heart. He was so near me that the burning powder 
singed the hair on his side. After I cut his throat, the dog 
lapped the blood, and then started off into the bushes. 

As it was near sunset, I concluded not to venture farther 
in the woods, but to sit down on a log and rest. In a short 
time I imagined I could hear the dog baying faintly. The 
sound gradually drew nearer, and at last I could hear a 
great crashing in the bushes. This finally ceased, and all 
was still save the distant baying of the dog. While watch- 
ing the trail intently, I saw a large object come swimming 
down the creek. I stepped toward it, when it saw me, 
turned, swam to the other side, and began to ascend the 
bank. This proved to be another Elk, and with three tell- 
ing shots I brought it down. 

T now walked down the lake, and on rounding a bend in 
the shore saw a camp-fire blazing, half a mile below. I went 
to it, and found my friends bivotiacked for the night. They 


OF wen» ae aN 


[A a ee Se art Se 


ELK-HUNTING IN THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS. 69 


had also been fortunate enough to kill three Elk. We had 
no desire to kill more, and early the next morning: dis- 
patched a runner to the Indian village for men to come and 
carry in the meat. 

While we were engaged in skinning and quartering the 
game, toward noon a shout heralded the approach of a 
platoon of dusky packers, and before sundown we were at 
the village with all our trophies. We gave the natives » 
nearly all the meat, we reserving but a small quantity of | 
that, together with the heads and skins. 


THE WAPITI (Cervus Canadensis). 
By WAH-BAH-MI-MI. 


ROWNED king of hill and woodland green! 
With horns branching wide, 
In majesty he bounds along, 
Peerless in antler’d pride! 
He stands in beauty all alone, 
‘«The monarch of the glen ”— 
A giant, dwarfing into naught 
The lordliest stag of ten. 


The Elk of Scandinavia’s hills, 
His congener, the Moose, 

The graceful red Virginia Deer, 
The Sambur and the Ruse, s 

The gentle, smooth-horned Caribou, 
The Reindeer, tame or free, 

The Fallow, nor the Axis-buck, 

_ Can match the Wapiti! = 


The springing Black-tail of the wood, 
The White-tail of the plain, 
. The Mule-Deer and tall forest stag, 
May flaunt their forms in vain— 
Rusa, Tarandus, Rusine, 
Alces and Rangifer, 
Sink into insignificance 
Before this conqueror. 


On Ottawa’s shores he roamed of old, 
Before the white man came, 

_ To cut the shadowy forests down, 
And frighten back the game. 

He’s going, like the Indian race, 

. Toward the setting sun, 

And yet he finds no resting-place 

From the hunter’s deadly gun. 
C71) 


72 


BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


The plowshare turns up his horns— 
Grand relics of the past!— 

Coeval with the mighty trees 
Which bent beneath the blast; 

Coeval with the stately tribes 
Which trod the Ottawa’s shore, 

Who, with our fading forests, 
Shall soon be. seen no more. 


THE CARIBOU. 


By WiLiiaM Pittman Lert (“ ALGONQUIN”). 


=7HE Woodland Caribou (Rangifer Tarandus) is simi- 
4 lar, in generic character and form, to the Barren- 
ground Caribou, but averages nearly twice as large, 
a and has shorter and stouter horns in proportion to 
its size. It inhabits Labrador and Northern Canada, and 
thence may be found south to Nova Scotia, New Bruns- 
wick, and Newfoundland, the northern part of the State of 
Maine, and Lower Canada on both sides of the St. Law- 
rence; thence westerly, in the country north of Quebec, to 
the vicinity of Lake Superior. It never migrates toward 


the north in summer, as is the habit of the Zarandus 


Arcticus, bat makes its migration in a southerly direc- 
tion. In this particular it acts in a manner directly oppo- 
site‘to the course pursued by the smaller species. 

Following is the description given of this Deer by Audu- 
bon: 

Larger and less graceful than the common American Deer. Body short 
and heavy; neck stout; hoofs thin and flattened, broad and spreading, exca- 
vated or concave beneath; accessory hoofs large and thin; legs short; no gland- 
ular opening, and scarcely a perceptible inner tuft on the hind legs; nose 
somewhat like that of a cow, but fully covered with soft hairs of a somewhat 
moderate length; no beard, but on the under side of the neck a line of hairs, 
about four inches in length, hanging down in a longitudinal direction; ears 
small, blunt, and oval, thickly covered with hair on both surfaces. 

Horns one foot three and a half inches in height, slender, one with two and 
the other with one prong; prongs about five inches long; hair soft and woolly 
underneath, the longer hairs, like those of the Antelope, crimped or waved, and 
about one to one and a half inches long. 

At the roots the hairs are whitish, becoming brownish-gray, and at the tops 
light dun-gray, whiter on the neck than elsewhere; nose, ears, and outer sur- 
face of legs brownish; a slight shade of the same tinge behind the fore legs. 
Hoofs black, and throat dull-white; a faint whitish patch on the side of the 
shoulders; forehead brownish-white; tail white, with a shade of brown at the root 

(78 ) 


74 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


and on the whole upper surface; outside of legs brown; a band of white around 
all the legs adjoining the hoofs, and extending to the small secondary hoofs; 
horns yellowish-brown, worn white in places. 

This description is, in the main, correct. The rather 
arbitrary dimensions given of the horns is scarcely borne 
out or corroborated by the practical naturalist known as 


———— 
ANZ CHIC. 
EL 


Woodland Caribou. 


the hunter. The horns measured by Audubon for this © 
description were probably those of a female, which are 
much smaller than the antlers of the male. I have two sets 
of horns of the Woodland Caribou, both of which came 
from the vicinity of the Kakabonga Lake, above the Desert, 
on the Gatineau River. They are singularly dissimilar in 
appearance, and, from the size, I judge that both belong to 
male heads. 


THE CARIBOU. 7D 


I saw a pair of Caribou-horns some years ago which 
were much larger, more massive and wide-spreading, and 
had many more and longer prongs, than either of these. 
_ Like every other variety of the genus Cervida, the horns 
of the Caribou are deciduous. Caribou drop their horns 
between the first of January and the end of February. 
The new horns then commence growing slowly until 
the advent of warm spring weather, when they shoot up 
with amazing rapidity, and reach their full size by the 
first of September. They are then covered with velvet, 
which the animal gets rid of by rubbing them against 
small trees. Both male and female of this species have 
horns. Those of the female are much finer and lighter 
than the horns of the male. I saw, recently, a beauti- 
ful female Caribou-head, which was killed in January, 
and I have, also, the head of a fine doe, killed within 
the month of January, 1890, from which the horns had 
disappeared, leaving the usual indications in the skull that 
the antlers had dropped naturally. I shall refer, further 
on, to the largest Woodland Caribou ever killed in this 
country, which carried the grandest set of antlers I have 
ever seen. 

The height of a full-grown Woodland Caribou is about 
four and a half feet, and the weight of its carcass about 
three hundred and fifty pounds. Large bucks are occasion- 
ally met with that weigh nearly four hundred pounds. The 
food of the Caribou consists of mosses, lichens, and creep- 
ing plants found in the swamps in summer, and in search 
of which, and certain grasses, it paws up the snow with its 
broad hoofs in winter. The flesh when fat is most deli- 
cious venison; when lean, it-is dry and insipid. The Cari- 
bou is the fleetest of American Deer, In galloping it makes 
most extraordinary bounds. As a trotter, the slow-going 
two-fifteen horse that might attempt to compete with him 
would be simply nowhere. 

Like his useful congener—some authorities believe them 
to be of the same species—the Reindeer of Northern 
Europe, the Caribou is possessed of great powers of endur- 


76 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


ance, many times escaping from the Indian’ hunters after 
the fatigue and starvation inseparable from four or five 
days of a continued following-up hunt. When the hunted 
animal gets upon glare-ice, over which he can trot at a rate 
that would double upon the fleetest skater, the hunter is - 
obliged to abandon the chase. 

The Caribou is a shy and exceedingly wary animal, and 
is most difficult to still-hunt; neither can he be successfully 
hunted in deep snow, he being enabled to go over its sur- 
face, upon his broad, flat hoofs, like a hare. So far as I 
have been able to learn, it is only time lost to attempt to 
hunt the Caribou with dogs. The hounds might follow the 
scent, but they would scarcely ever be in at the death, as it 
is a well-known fact that dogs can not drive them to 
water. They are, however, successfully still-hunted by 
Indians, and also by white hunters skilled in the craft. 
Large numbers of them are sometimes slaughtered, when 
discovered swimming across a lake or river, in their migra- 
tions. I have heard of fourteen having been killed by a 
camp of Indians, as they were crossing the River du 
Lievers, in a few minutes. 

The Caribou is still to be found in considerable numbers 
on the last-named river as close as sixty or seventy miles 
from its confluence with the Ottawa; also on the Gatineau 
River above the Desert, and in more limited numbers above 
Pembroke, in the neighborhood of Black River, and on the 
shores of Lake Nipissing. They are also plentiful on both 
sides of the St. Lawrence, beyond Riviére du Loup, below 
Quebec, and are abundant on the northern shores. of Lake 
Superior. I have no recollection of Caribou having been 
met with in any numbers on the south shores of the Ottawa 
River. Odd ones have been occasionally seen many years 
ago. In each of such cases the animals had evidently 
strayed from the north side, which has always been their 
true and natural habitat. 

The skin of the Caribou, when tanned, is made into moc- 
casins, and in the raw state is used in the manufacture of 
snow-shoes. It is fine, thin, tough, and durable. Frank 


oA 


THE CARIBOU. 77 


Forrester has described hunting the Woodland Caribou in 
the following terms: 

As to its habits, while the Lapland or Siberian Reindeer is the tamest and 
most docile of its genus, the American Caribou is the fiercest, fleetest, wildest, 
shyest, and most untamable; so much so that they are rarely pursued by white 
hunters, or shot by them, except through casual good fortune, Indians alone 
having the patience and instinctive craft which enables them to crawl unseen, 
unsmelt—for the nose of the Caribou can detect the smallest taint upon the air, 
of anything human, at least two miles up-wind of him—and unsuspected. If 
he takes alarm, and starts on the run, no one dreams of pursuing. As well 
pursue the wind, of which no man knoweth whence it cometh or whither it 
goeth. Snow-shoes against him, alone, avail little; for, propped up on the 
broad, natural snow-shoes of his long, elastic pasterns and wide-cleft, clacking 
hoofs, he shoots over the crust of the deepest drifts unbroken, in which the 
lordly Moose would soon. flounder, shoulder-deep, if hard-pressed, and the 
graceful Deer would fall despairing, and bleatin vain for mercy. But he, the 
ship of the winter wilderness, outstrips the wind among his native pines and 
tamaracks—even as the desert ship, the Dromedary, out-trots the red simoom 
on the terrible Sahara; and when once started, may be seen no more by human 
eyes, nor run down by the fleetest feet of men—not if they pursue him from 
their nightly casual camps unwearied, following his trail by the day, by the 
week, by the month, till a fresh snow effaces his tracks and leaves the hunter 
at last as he was at the first of the chase, less only the fatigue, the disappoint- 
ment, and the folly. 


While we have no historical record of the Woodland 
Caribou ever having been found in any considerable num- 
bers on the south shore of the Ottawa, I think there can be 
little doubt of its having been quite plentiful on the north 
side of the stream, within a few miles of its banks, in the 
past. As mentioned before, stray members of the family 
have been, to my own knowledge, seen on the south side of 
the Ottawa, one having been killed at L’Original about 
twenty-five years ago. 

The Caribou migrates in herds of from ten, to one, two, 
even five hundred; and it is a notable fact that a concealed 
hunter, with the wind in his favor, if he does not show 
himself, has ammunition enough, a good rifle, and the man 
behind it is the right man in the right place, can slaughter 
a whole herd. Under ordinary conditions, the Woodland 
Caribou is the most difficnlt to approach of all the Deer 
genus; but when accidentally encountered, under circum- 
stances such as I have mentioned, the animals seem to be 


78 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


completely panic-stricken and unable to make any attempt 
to escape. 

Respecting not only the difference in size between the 
Arctic and the Woodland Caribou, but also the great dif- 
ference in the shape and weight of the antlers of the two 
species, there is much to be said. The Barren-ground 
Caribou has horns sweeping backward with a long, grace- 
ful curve, usually with few points except near the summit 
or crown, which bends forward. The antlers of this species 
are small in diameter, almost round, and uniform in thick- 
ness up to the palmation at the crown; and, notwithstanding 
their great length and general extent, are not much more 
than one-half the weight of those of the Woodland Caribou. 
The horns of the Woodland Caribou are shorter in the 
beam, flatter, more massive in build, more vertical and 
erect in position, and very much heavier and thicker than 
are those of his lesser congener. Besides, they branch off 
on both sides, a short distance from the skull, or somewhat 
faintly defined burr, into extensive palmations, with many 
points around the upper and outer edges. 

In both species the horns are smooth and of a yellowish- 
brown color. In the strange and almost grotesque tortuosi- 
ties of the brow-antlers, they are singularly beautiful and 
interesting. In touching upon the points of difference 
between the Arctic and Woodland species, I shall have 
occasion, in a subsequent stage of my subject, to refer to 
the positive difference in the antlers, as being, in my 
opinion, sufficiently well defined to indicate a distinctness 
of species. ; 

While on this subject, or rather on that of horns, I may 
mention an incident related by an old voyageur of the times 
of Doctor Kane, Captain Back, and Sir John Franklin. - 
While traveling in the habitat of the Barren-ground Caribou, 
he relates that he found the carcasses of two large bucks with 
horns interlocked, having become so while fighting. The 
skeletons only were to be seen, the Wolves and Foxes having 
eaten all the flesh. This, as the reader is aware, is a com- 
mon occurrence amongst every species of the genus Cervide. 


THE CARIBOU. © 79 


Even the males of the giant Moose have frequent and 
deadly combats. 

It may not be out of place to state here that the Moose 
has frequently been vanquished by the buck of the Virginia 
species. The conflict soon ends when the red buck is a 
spike-horn. 

The Woodland Caribou, although somewhat more shy 
and wary than its smaller congener of the Arctic wastes, 
is, nevertheless, under certain conditions, a very stupid 
animal. During the periodical migrations of a herd, they 
are easily killed in vast numbers by taking advantage of 
the wind, and shooting them as they pass along. They are, 
also, frequently surprised crossing rivers or lakes that 
intersect their line of march, when they become an easy 
prey to hunters in canoes. 

In winter they are often seen upon the ice on inland 
lakes. On such occasions they can be easily shot, as referred 
to elsewhere in this paper, providing they neither see nor 
smell the hunter. The instant, however, they catch the 
scent of their hidden foe, they vanish like a streak of light. 
I have heard it said by those who have seen them scudding 
over the ice, like shadows, that in an incredibly short space 
of time they appeared to the naked eye not larger than Rab- 
bits. 

They are shot sometimes at long range by hunters 
on the barren plains which they frequent, in New Bruns- 
wick, Newfoundland, the Province of Quebec, and other 
places. By a keen and careful hunter, many may be thus 
killed out of a herd. 

It is much more difficult tq approach a single Wood- 
land Caribou than it is to stalk a herd. When two or 
three are killed in a herd by a concealed hunter, the 
remainder seem to become completely demoralized, losing, 
for the time being, their natural instinct of self-preserva- 
tion; and instead of fleeing, as they would from a vis- 
ible or otherwise perceptible enemy, like a solid square 
of heroes in battle, they stand their ground, inspired, 
however, by a different and unaccountable impulse, until 


80 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


the last one is shot down. Under the foregoing conditions, 
large numbers of these fine animals are, to say the least, 
wantonly and improvidently slaughtered. 

Let me say here, by way of digression, something with 
which I-believe all true sportsmen will agree, and it is this; 
In my opinion, especially in the pursuit of large game, no 
true sportsman will ever make a practice of shooting merely 
for count or a large bag. Even in the quest of feathered 
game, the true sportsman can always be distinguished from 
the mere butcher who hunts for game alone, or from him 
who slaughters to win the questionable reputation attached 
to the exterminator who boasts of being able to kill a 
greater number than his more conscientious neighbor. 

No true sportsman will ever kill large numbers of either 
large or small game which can not be turned to necessary 
and useful account. No true sportsman will kill a Bison 
for his tongue, a Wapiti for his head, or a Moose for his 
skin. 

Had the hunters and Indians of the United States and 
Canada, for the last thirty years, been guided by such rules, 
there would be at the present time, on the Continent of 
America, one million Buffaloes, ten thousand Wapiti, aud 
ten thousand Moose for one of each species now existing. 
On the part of the governments of the United States and 
Canada, the needless and lamentable extermination of the 
American Bison—the monarch of American game animals— 
is nothing short of a national crime, a national calamity, 
a national disgrace. _ 

. Sport is sport. It means recreation, exercise, pure air, 
health, and invigoration; hut wanton, thoughtless, and rep- 
rehensible slaughter of game ought to find no record in 
the formula of action which guides true and legitimate 
sportsmen. : 

The Woodland Caribou has sometimes been driven by 
hounds, as is frequently done in the case of the Virginia 
Deer; not usually, however, with the same degree of suc- 
cess. It is well known by hunters, that when hunted by 
dogs the common Deer will circle around the bush in 


THE CARIBOU. 81 


which they are started a number of times before making off 
for another neighborhood, especially if followed by a slow 
hound. The Caribou, on the contrary, when started by 
hounds, steers straight away for a run of perhaps thirty 
or forty miles before pausing for any length of time. 
Should the hunter be lucky enough to have himself posted 
on the line taken by a herd of Caribou pursued by hounds, 
he may congratulate himself on the fact that few sports- 
men can find themselves in a more exciting position. 

Some few years ago, a sporting friend of the writer, Mr. 
Campbell Macnab, of Riviére du Loup, in the Province 
of Quebec, had a rousing climax of exciting sport com- 
pressed into a few minutes. He had with him a single 
hound that had been well trained upon our common Deer; 
and his master had determined, at the first opportunity, to 
try him on Caribou. Having arrived on the ground, some 
miles back from the banks of the St. Lawrence, where his 
Indian guide had reported the presence of the noble game, 
the latter was sent out on a large plain to put out the dog. 
Macnab had stationed himself near a gorge between the 
hills, down which, if started, he expected the Deer to run. 

A few minutes after having been cast loose, the good 
dog, ‘‘Curl’”’—so called from the twist of his tail—soon 
scented the game; and forthwith the melodious music of his 
tongue, coming down the ravine, was heard, as, with fierce 
howls and rapid strides, he followed in the wake of nine 
magnificent bucks, in rapid flight before him. On they - 
came ata swinging trot, the voice of stanch old Curl 
increasing in distinctness and volume at every stride. At 
length, in single file, headed by a grand buck with wide- 
branching antlers, they burst upon the hunter’s view. Sud- - 
denly, from the edge of a thicket, rose a puff of smoke, 
followed by a loud report, and the king of the startled 
herd fell in his tracks, as a heavy bullet from a breech- 
loader tore through his shoulder. 

The remainder of the herd instantly became demoralized. 
Some of them stood still, while others jumped about in con- 
fusion. As rapidly as the rifle could be fired and reloaded, 

6 


82 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


the fusillade went on, until eiglt of the splendid animals 
were laid low. The ninth, warned by the tongue of the 
approaching dog, fled and escaped. The eight Deer were 
killed in probably not more than three minutes, from a dis- 
tance of one hundred yards, the hunter not having had to 
move from the spot on which he stood to discharge the first 
shot. 

While still-hunting on another occasion, Macnab dis- 
covered a herd of about eighty Woodland Caribou feed- 
ing on a large, open plain. After considerable strategic 
maneuvering on difficult ground, he managed to approach 
within three hundred and fifty yards of the herd, and, from 
a well-concealed covert, opened fire. After discharging 
three or four shots fruitlessly, he finally got the range, and 
in a short time dropped seven of the largest bucks, and 
then discontinued firing. He assured me that had he desired 
slaughter alone, and not legitimate, honest sport, he could, 
with little difficulty, have killed the entire herd, for they 
could not see him, and so made no effort to escape. In 
accounting for his success, I may say that Macnab is an old 
and expert target-shot, who, with either the shotgun or the 
rifle, takes rank as one of the most accomplished sports- 
men in Canada. 

I have never been able to learn, from any authentic 
source, that Caribou, hunted by dogs, will take to water, as 
is the habit of the Cervus Virginianus. I imagine, how- 
ever, that when pursued by dogs, silent or otherwise, they 
will swim across any river or lake in the direct line of their 
flight. Aided by their stout legs and broad, concave hoofs, 
they are rapid swimmers; and from their natural capacity 
for enduring cold, suffer little, even from protracted immer- 
sion in cold water. 

The Woodland Caribou is a large and powerful animal, 
nearly, if not quite, double the size of the Virginia Deer, and 
possessing great speed and immense vitality. It requires a 
strong, paralyzing shock to kill, suddenly, such formidable 


game. Consequently, taking for granted the expertness | 


and nerve of the hunter, a repeating-rifle of not smaller 


a a ee eae 


ee eee eee ee a oe | 


THE CARIBOU. . 83 


than fifty caliber, carrying the maximum of powder and 
lead compatible with the safety of the arm, and also that 
of the man behind it, would naturally appear to be the 
proper arm for this exciting sport. 

Parker Gillmore, a celebrated sportsman and practical 
experimental naturalist of no ordinary ability, speaking 
of the Caribou, says: 

Although there are upon the American Continent two very distinctly 
marked varieties of the Reindeer, I can not adopt the idea of many travelers, 
that, so conspicuous is their dissimilarity, they are entitled to be considered 
distinct species. : : 

We are all aware that difference of climate, local causes, and abundance or 
paucity of food, work wonderful alterations on animal life—more especially in 
regulating their stature; for instance, the Moose Deer of Labrador seldom 
exceeds sixteen and a half hands, while that of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick 
has been known to attain a height of twenty-one, or even twenty-two, hands 
(vide Audubon). Now, the grounds that are taken for asserting that there are 
two species of Caribou are exactly the same, and would equally justify the 
decision that there are two species of Elk. The Woodland Caribou leads a 
life of comparative idleness, among the dense swamps and pine-clad hills, 
where food is constantly to be found in abundance. The Barren-ground Cari- 
bou, on the other hand, inhabits the immense flats or mountain-ridges close to 
the Arctic Circle, where vegetable growth is sparse, and little shelter is afforded 
from the biting, cold winds and snows peculiar to so high a latitude. So great, 
often, are the. straits the latter variety are submitted to from the inhospitable 
nature of their habitat, that in some districts they are compelled to become 
migratory to obtain the necessaries of life. Is it, then, to be wondered at that 
there should be a marked difference in size between the inhabitant of the shel- 
tered forest and the wanderer upon the barren upland waste? 


While agreeing in the main with the rationale of the 
foregoing argument, it seems to me, nevertheless, that the 
existence of such a palpably marked difference in the 
shape, size, and weight of the horns of the two varieties 
would naturally indicate that they are distinct and separate 
species, each formed and constituted peculiarly for the 
habitat in which, in the grand economy of Nature, it has 
been placed. The difference to me appears more apparent 
than that existing between the Wood Buffalo and the Bison 
of the plains. 

The Arctic Caribou has long, spreading, slender horns, 
specially formed for traveling upon the open plains 
and thinly wooded hills of the Arctic Circle; while the 


84 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


horns of the larger species are comparatively shorter, 
heavier, thicker, and more palmated. Sir John Richard- 


son and Judge Caton are both of opinion that the two 


kinds of American Reindeer are distinct in species—an 
opinion superinduced not only from the difference in size, 
separate peculiarities in the antlers, and marked dissimi- 
larity in habits, but also on account of the absolute 
non-intercourse between the two varieties, although the 


southern migratory limit of the one overlaps the northern — 


migratory limit of the other. 

Beyond even this, naturalists generally agree that the 
food best suited for the Barren-ground Caribou, of the 
most nutritious quality, is abundant in its northern habitat; 
notably the Reindeer moss and lichens which constitute its 
staple diet. The migrations of the northern variety are 
doubtless regulated, as. are the migrations of birds, by the 
climate, and not specially by the scarcity of food. The 
same cause induces the periodical migrations of the Wood- 
land Caribou northward. On this disputed point, I shall 
close with a quotation from J aries Caton’s history of the 
Barren-ground Caribou: 


_ The statement of Doctor King, as quoted by Baird, for the purpose of 
showing a specific difference between the Barren-ground and the Woodland 
Caribou, is this: ‘‘ That the Barren-ground species is peculiar, not only in the 
form of its liver, but in not possessing a receptacle for bile.” This implies, 
certainly, that Doctor King had found, on examination, that the Woodland 
Caribou has the gall-bladder attached to the liver. This certainly is not so; 
for the gall-bladder is wanting in the Woodland Caribou, as well as in-all other 
members of the Deer family, a fact long since observed and attested by several 
naturalists, and often confirmed by critical examination. Notwithstanding 
there are many strong similitudes between our two kinds of Caribou, there 
are numerous well-authenticated differences, which, when well considered, not 
only justify, but compel us to class them as distinct species. 


_ Ina paper read some years ago before the Field Natu- 
ralists’ Club of the City of Oba wa: on ‘‘The Deer of the 
Ottawa Valley,’’ I strongly urged my belief that there is a 
difference, not yet rationally accounted for, between the 
branching and spike-horned Deer of the Cervus Virginia- 
nus species. Be this as it may, the distinctness and dis- 
similarity, in many particulars, between the Barren-ground 


~ 


THE CARIBOU. 85 


and Woodland Caribou, are, in my opinion, sufficiently 
positive to lead to the conclusion that they are separate 
and distinct species. 

When pursued by hunters, the Woodland Caribou 
almost invariably makes for a swamp, and follows the mar- 
gin in its course, taking the water, and frequently ascend- 
ing the nearest mountain, crossing it by a gorge or ravine. If - 
closely pressed by the hunters—who occasionally follow up 
the chase four or five days, camping at night on the trail— 
the hunted animal scales the highest peaks of the mount- 
ains for security, when the pursuit becomes laborious, and 
the chances of success very uncertain. 

On one occasion, two hunters followed a small herd of 
Caribou constantly for an entire week, and when com- 
pletely tired out they gave up the chase, which was then 
continued by two other hunters, who at last succeeded in 
killing two of the animals at long range. Occasionally, 
however, when fresh tracks are found, and the hunter is 
well skilled in his craft, Caribou are surprised lying down 
or browsing, and easily shot. When the snow is not deep, 
and the inland lakes are covered with ice only, the animal, 
if closely pursued, runs over the ice with such speed that it 
is unable to stop if struck with alarm by any unexpected 
object presenting itself in front. It then suddenly squats 
upon its haunches, and slides along the glare-ice in that 
ludicrous position until the momentum ceases, when it 
jumps up again and moves off in some other direction. 

As a matter of course, when the Caribou takes to the ice, 
the hunter, if he knows his game, always gives up the 
chase. Sometimes, when the mouth and throat of a fresh- 
killed Caribou are examined, they are found filled with a 
black-looking mucus, resembling thin mud. This sub- 
stance, however, is supposed to be only a portion of the 
partially digested black mosses upon which it had fed, 
probably forced upward into the throat and mouth in its 
death-struggles. 

If the accounts given of the speed and endurance of the 
European Reindeer are correct—an animal to which the 


86 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Caribou is so closely allied—then it may be naturally 
imagined that the hunting of this powerful animal must 
be a laborious undertaking. 

Journeys of one hundred and fifty miles are said to be a 
common performance of the domesticated Reindeer, and in 
the year 1690, one animal is affirmed to have drawn an offi- 
cer, carrying important dispatches, the astonishing dis- 
tance of eight hundred miles in forty-eight hours. 

By hunters, either white or red, the Caribou is followed 
only on those rare occasions when snow of unusual depth 
is crusted over to the point at which it is not sufficiently 
strong to support the game. Then the toil is too great 
even for his mighty powers of endurance, and he can be 
run down by men, on snow-shoes, inured to the sport 
and to the hardships and privations of the wilderness, but 
by such men only. Indians in the Canadian Provinces, and 
many hunters in the Eastern States, can take and keep his 
trail, in suitable weather, under the conditions referred to. 
The best time for this mode of hunting is the latter end of 
February or the beginning of March. The best weather is 
when a light, fresh snow of three or four inches has fallen 
on top et Bas: drifts, with a crust underneath sufficiently 


strong to bear the weight of the hunter on his broad snow- _ 


shoes, enabling him to follow the trail with swiftness and 
inuee. Then thie hunters crawl around, silent and vigilant, 
always up-wind, following noiselessly the well-defined foot- 
prints of the wandering, pasturing, wantoning herd; judg- 
ing, by signs, unmistakable to the veteran hunter, undis- 
tinguishable to the. novice, of the distance or proximity of 
the. game, until at length, as the reward of patience and 
perseverance, they steal upon the herd unsuspected, and 
either finish the hunt with a sure shot anda triumphant 
whoop, or, as is frequently the case, discover that the 
game, from some unimagined cause, has taken alarm and 
started on the jump, and so give it up in despair. An 
undoubted authority has said: ‘Of all wood-craft, none is 
so difficult, none requires so rare a combination as this, of 
quickness of sight, wariness of tread, very instinct of the 


x 
Sa 
S 


THE CARIBOU. 87 


craft, and perfection of judgment.’ Fortunately, how- 
ever, the weather conditions that favor this mode of hunt- 
ing-usually come only within the close season, so that it 
is seldom resorted to by the true sportsman. 

In identifying the relationship between the wild Rein- 
deer of Europe and the Woodland Caribou of America, 
Judge Caton’s admirable book is the most precise and 
exhaustive treatise that I have met with. To my mind, it 
proves practically, from personal study and careful exami- 
nation, that there exist many similarities and peculiar 
characteristics in both of these fine animals. The antlers, 
however, of the American species would appear to be some- 
what heavier and more palmated than are those of the ani- 
mal of the Old World—as much more massive, at least, as 
the American Woodland Caribou is larger and heavier than 
his European congener. 

Doubtless, if turned to account, from his great soeaeah, 
speed, and endurance, the Woodland Caribou of America 
could be domesticated, and his services made available in 
many ways advantageous to man. Perhaps his inability to 
endure the heat of warm summer weather might, in some 


degree, operate against the possibility of utilizing those 
- qualities which, in Lapland and Greenland, have made the 


Reindeer so valuable, and even so indispensable, to the exist- 
ence of the inhabitants of those cold northern countries. 

I have already referred to the speed and endurance of 
the Reindeer of Europe, an animal so closely allied to the 
Woodland Caribou; and from knowledge gleaned from 
authentic sources, of the speed and staying qualities of the 
latter, I am inclined to believe that there is no exaggeration 
used or intended. When the robust build, clean-cut, bony 
limbs, and general active make-up of the Woodland Cari- 
bou are taken into account, I find no difficulty in believing 
that one of those animals, in full health and in good travel- 
ing condition, in his wild state, could easily trot twenty or 
twenty-five miles an hour, and keep up that rate of speed, on 
favorable ground, for at least four or five hours, or longer. 
The great, lumbering Moose is a magnificent trotter, but the 


88 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Caribou could get beyond his range of vision in half an 
hour. There can be no doubt that the Caribou is the cham- 
pion trotter of America. 


The general character of the island of Newfoundland is 
that of a rugged and barren country, with hills never exceed- 
ing one thousand feet in height. Large lakes and ponds, 
the breeding-grounds of geese, gulls, and ducks, are so 
numerous that probably one-eighth of the entire island is 
under water. The uneven surface of the land is covered by 
woods, marshes, and barrens. The trees consist of fir, spruce, 
pine, juniper, birch, witch-hazel, mountain ash, aspen, and 
alder. The marshes are as often upon the sloping sides of 
the hills as in hollows, the moisture being held in suspen- 
sion by a deep coating of moss, which renders walking, 
under a load, extremely laborious. The barrens are in many 
places interspersed with large patches of ‘‘ tucking-bushes,”’ — 
or dwarf juniper, which grow about breast-high, with 
strong branches stiffly interlaced—so firm that you can 
almost walk on them—and the labor of struggling through 
them beggars description. ‘ 

The ‘‘ Bethuk,”’ or ‘‘Boeothic’’—the aboriginal ‘‘ Red 
Indians’’—so named from the Deer’s fat and red ochre 
pigments with which they anointed their bodies—-are now 
extinct, although the miles of Deer-trap fences made by 
these people, and which are still in a fair state of preserva- 
tion, prove them to have been numerous in the early part of 
the present century. 

During the summer months the Caribou are to be found in 
the woods to the northward; but every fall they migrate, in 
vast herds, to the barren hills near the southern shore, where 
the comparative less depth of snow and the winter thaws 
enable them to obtain the moss and lichens upon which they 
chiefly subsist. It was during such migrations that the 
Indians used to slay the animals necessary for their winter 
use, as they followed within the fences until the outlet ter- 
minated in a lake, when the animals fell an easy prey to the 
arrows and spears of their ambushed and canoed foes. 


THE CARIBOU. 89 


The reckless slaughter of Caribou for sport only—the car- 
casses being left to rot on the ground—has compelled the. 
Government of Newfoundland to enact stringent laws for 
their protection; but it is still a grand country for the true 
sportsman, as he is certain to find game in abundance in the 
immediate vicinity of the countless lakes and streams, 
which enable him to transport the trophies of the chase to 
salt-water navigation without the fatigue of backing it for 
miles, ankle-deep in soggy moss. 


The following exciting sporting incidents are jotted down 
after a bivouac chat with one of Canada’s crack shots 
with a rifle, at either running or flying game. Few per- 
sons, outside of the family circle, have any knowledge 
of the skill and experience, as a sportsman, of Mr. Fred- 
eric Newton Gisborne, F. R. T. C., Canada’s widely known 
engineer and electrician—an experience gained in the 
swamp glades of Central America, the Kangaroo haunts 
of Australia, and the barrens of Newfoundland and Can- 
ada. 

A remarkable and unusually ponderous pair of Woodland 
Caribou-horns, now being remounted by Mr. Henry, taxi- 
dermist, of Ottawa, happily obtained for the writer the fol- 
lowing brace of interesting anecdotes connected with their 
possessor. : 

When crossing Newfoundland, in the ’50s, Mr. Gisborne 
was preparing to camp some fifty miles west of the Bay of 
Despair, and thirty miles inland from the southern coast. 
He was accompanied by half a dozen men, among whom was 
his faithful follower and friend, Joe Paul, a Micmac Indian 
from Conn River. Paul was one of Nature’s gentlemen, a 
grand hunter, and an intense admirer of his master’s skill 
with a twenty-inch muzzle-loading rifle, of 44 caliber. Joe’s 
keenness of sight was proverbial, being almost equal in 
power to that of an ordinary field-glass. 

‘*Me see one, two, three, four Caribou!’’ exclaimed Joe, 
gently. ‘‘Come this way;” and the binocular confirmed his 
statement. 


90 . BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


They were advancing down the side of a hill fully two 
miles distant, on a long, flat marsh interspersed with 
deep pools of still water and unknown depths of bog mud. 
The beaten Deer-path traversed the center of the marsh and 
skirted the edge of the largest pond. There was no shelter 
or cover of any kind, excepting a little grove of dwarf — 
spruce, in which was the camp, distant a quarter of a mile 
from the path; and when the herd reappeared upon the 
marsh, and proved to be one old stag, one five-year-old _— 
and two does, Joe added: 

‘‘ Fine meat, white stag, but no man can stalk him! ”’ 

Nevertheless, Mr. Gisborne prepared for the attempt, 
despite the half-scornful look of Joe. Crawling along on 
his stomach, he slipped into the ice-cold water, feet first, 
holding on to the rotten edge of the bank, which was about 
a foot above the water; and with his body floating, he 
quietly slid his rifle along the edge, and thus advanced to 
within two hundred yards of the Deer-path; when, finding 
himself chilled to the bone, he with the utmost difficulty 
crawled out behind a slight rise in the ground which 
happened to be between himself and the herd, then eight 
hundred yards distant, and quite beyond the range of his 
Lilliputian rifle. The old stag, however, sniffed the air, 
and then walked gently down to and around the pond; but 
the other animals sauntered on, quietly feeding, until one 
of the does noticed the hunter, who lay with eyes nearly 
closed, as still as a log, and at once moved after the old. 
one; the second doe then followed down the path. No 
doubt, Joe was muttering, ‘‘ Ah! Me say no man, no Indian, 
can stalk that white stag! Now he run!’’ 

But the two were running—the stag, and the hunter 
also, to shorten the distance for a flying shot at one hundred 
and sixty yards. Then came an almost inaudible crack, in 
the intense excitement of the moment, and away bounded 
the noble animal, with his nose high in | the air, along the 
pathway. 

‘*Ooh!”’ shouted Joe. ‘‘Him hit—mon Dieu!”’ (all of the 
Conn Indians speak better French than English) ‘‘ him hit!’? 


THE CARIBOU. 91 


And, sure enough, after running several hundred yards, 
the stag wheeled round, ran back up the marsh, and fell 
dead, with a ball through his heart, within ten yards. of 
the spot where he received the fatal bullet. ; 

‘You all some Indian—you ‘Waabeck Albino’”’ 
(Anglice, ‘‘ White Indian’’), said Joe, with his eyes on 
fire, as he patted Gisborne’s wet shoulders, with the affec- 
tionate pride of a young maiden for a victorious lover; and 
then both fell to work cooking venison steaks. 


‘“Now, Joe Paul and Peter Jeddore,’”’ said Mr. Gis- 
borne’s young bride, in the year 1857, to the devoted 
Indian servitors (not servants), who were again to accom- 
pany her husband upon a mineralogical surveying trip north 
of Trinity Bay, Newfoundland, ‘‘ mind you bring me home 
a fine set of Caribou-horns.”’ 

‘‘Suppose the Captain (the synonym of boss in New- 
foundland) kill him, me carry him,”’ responded Joe, regard- 
ing her not too affectionately, as the worthy fellow was a 
‘wee bit’’ jealous of her gentle authority. 

In due course of time, one fine afternoon in September, 
Gisborne and Joe might have been seen sitting on the side 
of a hill twelve miles inland from the Bay of Bulls, Trinity 
Bay. Bear-spoors wereplentiful, and Deer-paths innumer- 
able, but no game in sight. 

‘*Suppose we go back to camp at harbor—soon dark,”’ 
said Joe. Standing erect on a large boulder, clean-cut 
against the sky-lines, Joe gazed long and earnestly north-- 
ward. ; 

‘*Caribou come!’ he said, gently; ‘‘come very quick— 
believe frightened; now me see—Wolf after him.”’ 

Joe subsequently shot a fine buck that was being chased 
by a Wolf at Deer Harbor, only a few miles inland from Bay 
of Bulls, and always insisted that the same Wolf had twice 
driven game to their larder. 

In a hollow beneath the hunters ran a stream, the banks 
of which were skirted by alder-bushes and a broad strip of 
junipef and spruce trees on either side; and down the oppo- 


= 


92 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA ° 


site hill-side rushed the Deer for cover at the head of the 
droke (Newfoundland term for grove) of timber, which 
commanded almost half a mile down-stream, and for which 
point Gisborne ran ‘‘for all he was worth,’’? while Joe 
started for the upper end for a chance shot if the Deer was 
turned from below. 

It was a nip-and-tuck race; for, when Gisborne reached 
the brook and proceeded upward, the freshly splashed 
boulders proved that the stag had been turned. Rigid as 
death, he listened attentively, awaiting Joe’s shot— when, 
without a moment’s warning, the alder-bushes waved, and 
the great stag appeared in mid-air as he cleared the brook 
at a bound and dashed into the opposite growth; but not 
until a ping from Gisborne’s rifle had placed a bullet a little 
behind his shoulder, which landed him, dead as venison, 
upon his mossy bier. 

A few minutes later Joe waded down the stream, with a 
quiet look of exultation in his eye. ; 

‘Me know you git him,” he said. ‘*‘ Wolf sit top of hill 
—watch if he come out—but he dead somewhere. Oh!”’ he 
added, ‘‘one shot—dead! Now Gisborne’s squaw say, ‘All 
right, Joe.’”’ 

What a noble brute! and what magnificent antlers—fifty- 
four points! And the horns are here in Ottawa to prove the 
correctness of the count. 

Now, however, came the tug of war—the transport of 
the carcass from the glen to camp. Joe was ill with a 
sprained back, caused by slipping off a wet boulder; but he 
nobly bore the head and hide, while Mr. Gisborne staggered 
along under the weight of the hind quarters in one piece, 
and, after innumerable resting-spells, ultimately reached the 
harbor, played out, but elated; and no wonder, his total 
load, as scaled at a store at Heart’s Content, having been 
one hundred and eighty pounds. The haunch, which Mr. 
Gisborne presented to his friend, Sir Alexander Bannerman, 
Governor of Newfoundland, turned the scale at sixty-four 
pounds. It was covered all over with a coating of fat two 
inches in depth. : 


* 


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‘ 


Sia ra a ae nti 


ie 


Mags 
Bi 


BIG CARIBOU HORNS. 


ips Se AA : SMa a 


THE CARIBOU. 93 


The last-mentioned Deer must have been far above the 
ordinary size and weight even of Newfoundland Caribou, 
well-known to be the largest in America. I think, consider- 
ing the size and weight of the horns, an illustration of 
which is subjoined, and estimating the total weight by the 
statements of Mr. Gisborne, as well as the weight of the 
hide, that this magnificent animal would weigh at least 
five hundred and fifty pounds. The shooting of such a 
grand animal is an event of never-to-be-forgotten interest 
and importance in the career of any sportsman, and our 
friend, Mr. Gisborne, is to be congratulated upon having, 
by keen insight and true sporting patience and strategy, 
succeeded in laying low perhaps the largest Caribou ever 
killed in America. 

On reading the far-back history of the large game ani- 
mals of the British maritime provinces, one finds it difficult 
to believe that any number of Moose or Caribou can still be 
found near the eastern coast. The Micmacs, or ‘‘ Red 
Indians,’”’ of Newfoundland, in ancient times were in the 
habit of destroying both species for their skins alone, leav- 
ing the carcasses—the finest venison in the world—to rot 
where they fell, or to be devoured by the carnivora of the 
woods. 

In Cape Breton alone, the Indians destroyed, in one 
winter in the olden time, five hundred Moose, taking away 
nothing but the skins. This shameful slaughter of Caribou 
was accomplished in the following manner: Brush fences, 
miles in length, were constructed on each side of their line 
of march in their autumnal migrations. These fences 
narrowed at a point where there was a lake or river to be 
crossed, widening out laterally for many miles through the 
wilderness. The poor animals unsuspectingly passed along 
through this fatal defile, which ended at the edge of the 
water. The day, even the hour, of their arrival was known 
through the agency of the scouts; and when they entered 
the water, they were set upon by the concealed hunters in 
force, in canoes, and hundreds were thus mercilessly butch- 
ered in a few hours. 


94 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Although the machinery for the enforcement of game 
laws, generally speaking, is miserably inefficient, I am glad 
to believe that any such improvident and wanton destruc- 
tion would not be tolerated in any civilized part of the 
American Continent to-day. 

In the foregoing sketch of the Caribou—the Reindeer of 
America—while adhering strictly to zoélogical facts, I have 
endeavored to make the paper as interesting to naturalists, 
scientific and practical, as I hope it may prove to sports- 
men, who have had many opportunities of learning, amid 
the wild haunts of our large game animals, minute and use- 
ful particulars beyond the reach of the mere scientist, whose 
researches have been confined to books. 

I met recently with an article classifying black and silver- 
gray Foxes as distinct species, as well as distinct from the 
large red Fox, which, if commonly accepted history is cor- 
rect, is not a native of America, but has descended from 
English ancestors, imported by Sir Guy Carleton in the 
Colonial period of the United States, who had found that 
the small, grayish-colored native Fox had neither the 
speed nor endurance to hold his own before a pack of Fox- 
hounds. From the fact that one hundred and fifty years 
ago there was a greater number of black and silver-gray 
Foxes in the Canadian part of this continent than red ones, 
I was always of the opinion that they were distinct in 
species from the red variety of a later date. 

My faith, however, in the above theory met with a some- 
what staggering shock a few years ago, when a boy in an 
adjacent township found a pure black, a pronounced silver- 
gray, and four red Fox puppies in the den of a she-Fox of 
the real red variety. In color, the three varieties were as 
strongly marked as possible. This strange result may not, 
however, shake the theory of distinctness of species; but 
possibly might be accounted for—as such incidents are 
explainable—as difference of color and other peculiarities 
are accounted for, in the frequent antagonisms existing in 

one litter of the young of the canine, or rather domestic dog, 
species. The black and silver-gray alluded to were kept alive 


THE CARIBOU. 95 


until nearly full-grown, and, when killed, they were in all 
points still different and distinct in the color of their fur. 
Doubtless there are many peculiarities relating to some of 
the Deer family yet to be revealed by careful future investi- 
gation. And there is no more valuable source from which 
the naturalist may draw for information than on these 
same simple dwellers in the forest, the men wo live by 
hunting and by woodcraft. 

Hitherto. the standard naturalists of the world have con- 
tributed to the fund of general information a vast amount of 
useful knowledge, which will in future be supplemented 
by many strange revelations which are at present in the vale 
of mystery. 

No single writer, so far as my researches have gone, has 
devoted so much time, money, and talent to the history of 
the Deer family as Judge John D. Caton, of Ottawa, Illinois. 
Few, if any, have had, or rather made, such ample oppor- 
tunities of studying and observing the characteristics of the 
Cervide of the world. In my opinion, no other writer or 
investigator of this most interesting group of animals has 
turned his grand opportunities so persistently, patiently, 
and practically to such good account. 


THE BARREN-GROUND CARIBOU. 


This animal is smaller than the common Deer (Cervus 
Virginianus). General color, clove-brown in summer, 
whitish in winter. Inhabits the ‘‘ Barren Grounds ” ” and 
Arctic regions of North America. 

There are two species of Reindeer—commonly called 
Caribou—in North America, confined in their geographical 
distribution, to the eastern and northern portions of the 
continent. The Barren-ground Caribou is abundant, in 
the summer season, in a tract of barren, treeless country 
bounded on the south by the Churchill River, on the west 
by the Great Slave, Athabasca, Wallasten, and Deer Lakes, 
and the Coppermine River, while toward the north its 
range stretches away quite to the Polar Seas. From the cir- 
cumstance of its being the only Deer found in this desolate 


96 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 
oo 


region, the Barren-ground Caribou has derived its com- 
monly received name. I extract the subjoined foot-note 
from ‘‘ Billings’ Naturalist and Geologist,’ to which excel- 
lent work I am indébted for much of the valuable informa- 
tion contained in this sketch: 

Norre.—The Reindeer have eight incisors, or front teeth, in the lower 
jaw, and twelve molar, or grinding teeth, six on each side. In the upper jaw 
they have no incisors, but two small canine teeth and twelve molars, six of the 
latter and one of the former on each side. ; 

Tarandus, a Reindeer; Areticus (Latin), Arctic. In the ‘‘ Natural History 
of New York,” this animal is called Rangifer Tarandus; in Audubon and 
Bachman’s ‘‘ Quadrupeds of North America,” Rangifer Caribou; by many 
authors, Cervus Tarandus; by the Cree Indians, Attehk; by the Chippewyans, 
Etthin; Eskimos, Tooktoo; Greenlanders, Tukta; French Canadians, Carrebeuf, 
or Caribou—literally, a ‘‘ square ox.” 


This animal is not, however, strictly confined to the ter- 
ritory above mentioned as its persistent and perpetual hab- 
itat. In the autumn it migrates toward the south, and 
spends the winter in the woods; and again, toward the 
northwest, it ranges nearly across the continent. 

This is the Deer so frequently mentioned by the hardy 
adventurers who have periodically, and often disastrously, 
braved the dangers of the Arctic Seas in search of the 
northwest passage. Its flesh and skins have kept many 
of them from starvation, and furnished the most servicea- 
ble and appropriate clothing to protect them from the 
intense cold of the Arctic regions. 


From accounts furnished by many travelers who have 


visited the Barren Grounds, we learn that Tarandus Arcti- 
cus is a small Deer, the largest, when in the highest condi- 
tion, weighing only from ninety to one hundred and twenty 
pounds, exclusive of the offal. In proportion to its size, 
its legs are shorter and stouter than those of the common 
Deer, and the nose and front part of the head resemble 
more the head of a cow than that of any of the more grace- 
ful members of the genus Cervide. The horns are slender, 
and palmated at the crown. Near their base they send out 
brow-antlers, sometimes of singular irregularity, which 
incline downward in front of the forehead, and are flat- 


4 
en 


Se ae Se 


sated: 


2a Aalst lle a la ea 


THE CARIBOU. 97 


tened laterally, so that the palmated portion is vertical 
before and between the eyes. 

Both males and females have horns, which fall off and 
are renewed annually, as in other Deer. The ears are 
small and oval, and are covered, externally and internally, 
with thick hair. The feet are broad, flat, and concave 
beneath, and well adapted for digging in the snow, and, 
from the sharpness of the outer edges, admirably fitted for 


Barren-Ground Caribou. 


running upon glare-ice. The tail is of moderate length, 
the hair in winter being long and coarse; in summer, short 
and smooth. The general color is grayish-brown, with the 
belly, inside of legs, and under part of the neck, white. 
According to that eminent naturalist, Judge Caton, and 
other celebrated writers on natural history, the Caribou is a 
true Reindeer. This fact has been satisfactorily and scien- 
tifically proven by the learned and experienced author of 
‘*The Antelope and Deer of America,’ not only by a 
7 


98 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


thorough acquaintance with the North American Caribou, 
but also by a prolonged sojourn in Lapland, devoted to the 
study of the Reindeer of the Old World amid their native 
ice and snow. With many writers, however, the point of 
identity between the Reindeer of Europe and the Caribou 
of America remains still doubtful. It has been contended 
that, although the Caribou of America is a true Reindeer, 
it belongs to a distinct species from those of the Old World, 
although in generic character and habits identical. 

Sir John Richardson, the celebrated explorer of the 
northern portions of America, in his work on the animals 


of the country, says: 

In the month of July the Caribou sheds its winter covering, and acquires a 
short coat of hair of a color composed of clove-brown mingled with deep red- 
dish and yellowish brown, the under surface of the neck, the belly, and the 
inner sides of the extremities remaining white at all seasons. The hair at first 
is fine and flexible, but as it lengthens it increases gradually in diameter at its 
roots, becoming at the same time white, soft, compressible, and brittle, like 
the hair of the Moose. In the course of the winter the thickness of the hair at 
their roots becomes so great that they are exceedingly close, and.no longer lie 
down smoothly, but stand erect; and they are then so soft and tender below, 
that the flexible colored tips are easily rubbed off, and the fur appears white, 
especially on the flanks. This occurs in a smaller degree on the back; and on 
the under parts the hair, although it acquires length, remains more flexible 
and slender at its roots, and is consequently not so subject to break. Toward 
the spring, when the Deer are tormented by the larvae of the gad-fly making 
their way through the skin, they rub themselves against rocks until all the 
colored tips of the hair are worn off, and their fur appears of a soiled white 
color.* 

The closeness of the hair of the Caribou, and the lightness of the skin, 
when properly dressed, render it the most appropriate article for winter cloth- 
ing in high latitudes. The skins of the young Deer make the best dresses, and 
they should be killed for that purpose in August or September, as, after the 
latter date, the hair becomes too long and brittle. The prime parts of eight or 
ten Deer-skins make a complete suit of clothing for a grown person, which is © 
so impervious to the cold, that, with the addition of a blanket of the same 
material, anyone so clothed may bivouac on the snow with safety, and even 
with comfort, in the most extreme cold of an Arctic winter’s night. 


* Mr. Ogilvie, Provincial Land Surveyor, of Ottawa, who recently spent upward of a 
year surveying and taking observations for the Canadian Government, informed me that 
while in the Hudson’s Bay Territory, when in want of fresh meat for his men, he has shot 
many of the Barren-ground species, the skins of some of which, killed in the early part of 
autumn, were perforated by those destructive insects so as not only to render them com- 
pletely useless, but also that the animals so affected were miserably thin and totally unfit 
for food. Ihave never noticed, in any Deer of the Virginia species, the presence of warbles,. 
as the result of the attack of parasitic larve. * 


THE CARIBOU. 99 


The Barren-ground Caribou, which migrate to the coast of the Arctic Sea 

in summer, retire in winter to the woods lying between the sixty-third and’sixty- 
sixth degree of latitude, where they feed on the long grass of the swamps. 
About the end of April, when the partial melting of the snow has softened the 
cetrari@, cornicularie, and ceromyces, which clothe the barren grounds like a 
carpet, they make short excursions from the woods, but return to them when 

_ the weather is frosty. In May the females proceed toward the sea-coast, and 
toward the end of June the males are in full march in the same direction. At 
that period the power of the sun has dried up the lichens on the barren grounds, 
and the Caribou frequent the moist pastures which cover the bottoms of the 
narrow valleys on the coasts and islands of the Arctic Sea, where they graze 
upon the sprouting carices and on the withered grass or hay of the preceding 
year, which is at that period still standing and retaining part of its sap. Their 
spring journey is performed partly on the snow, and partly after the snow has 
disappeared, on the ice covering the rivers and lakes, which have in general a 
northerly direction. Soon after their arrival on the coast, the females drop 
their young, generally two. They commence their return to the south in, 
September, and reach the vicinity of the woods toward the end of October, 
where they are joined by the males. This journey takes place after the snow 
has fallen, and they scrape it away with their feet to procure the lichens, which 
are then tender and pulpy, being preserved, moist and unfrozen, by the heat 
remaining in the earth. Except in autumn, the bulk of the males and 
females live separately; the former retire deeper into the woods in winter, 

*while herds of the pregnant does stay on the skirts of the Perea grounds, and 
proceed to the coast very early in the spring. 

Captain Parry saw Deer on Melville Peninsula as late as the 23d of Septem-— 
ber, and the females, with their fawns, made their first appearance on the 23d 
of April. The males in general do not go so far North as the females. On the 
coast of Hudson’s Bay, the Barren-ground Caribou migrates farther south 
than those on the Coppermine or Mackenzie Rivers; but none of them go to 
the southward of the Churchill. ~ 

When in condition, there is a layer of fat deposited on the back and rump 
of the males to the depth of two or three inches; or more, immediately under 
the skin, which is termed depowillé by the Canadian voyagewrs, and as an article 
of Indian trade, is oftenof more value than all the remainder of the carcass. 
The depouillé is thickest at the beginning of the autumn; it then becomes of a 
red color and acquires a high flavor, and soon afterward disappears. The 
females at that period are lean, but in the course of the winter acquire a small 
depouillé, which is exhausted soon after they drop their young. 

The flesh of the Caribou is tender, and its flavor, when in season, is, in my 
opinion, superior to that of the finest English venison; but when the animal is 
lean, it is insipid—the difference between lean and well-fed Caribou being 
greater than one can conceive who has not had an opportunity of judging. . 
The lean meat fills the stomach, but never satisfies the appetite, and scarcely 
serves to recruit the strength when exhausted by labor. 

The Chippewyans, the Copper Indians, the Dog-ribs and Hare Indians, of 
Great Bear Lake, would be totally unable to inhabit their barren lands were it 


100 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


not for the immense herds of this Deer that exist there. Of the Caribou-horns 
they form their fish spears and hooks, and, previous to the introduction of 
European iron, ice-chisels and various other utensils were likewise made of 
them. 

The hunter breaks the leg bones of a recently slaughtered Deer, and 
while the marrow is still warm, devours it with relish. The kidneys, part of 
the intestines—particularly the thin folds of the third stomach, or many-plies— 
are likewise occasionally eaten when raw; and the summits of the antlers, as — 
long as they are soft, are also delicacies in a raw state. 

The colon, or large intestine, is inverted, so as to preserve its fatty append- 
ages, and is, when either roasted or boiled, one of the richest and most savory 
morsels the country affords, either to the native or white resident. The 
remainder of the intestines, after being cleaned, are hung in the smoke for a 
few days, and then broiled. 

The stomach and its contents—termed by_the Eskimos nerrooks, and by 
the Greenlanders nerrikak nerriookak—are also eaten; and it would appear that 
the lichens and other vegetable matters on which the Caribou feeds are more 
easily digested by the human stomach when they have been mixed with the 
salivary and gastric juices of a ruminating animal. Many of the Indians 
and Canadian voyageurs prefer this savory mixture after it has undergone a 
degree of fermentation, or lain to season, as they term it, for a few days. 

The blood, if mixed in proper proportion with a strong decoction of fat 
meat, forms, after some nicety in the cooking, a rich soup, which is very pal- 
atable and highly nutritious, but difficult of digestion. 

When all the soft parts of the animal are consumed, the bones are pounded 
small, and a large quantity of marrow is extracted from them by boiling. This 
is used in making the better parts of the mixture of dried meat and fat, which 
is named pemmican, and it is also preserved by the young men and women for 
anointing the hair and greasing the face on dress occasions. The tongue 
roasted, when fresh or when half-dried, is a delicious morsel. 

When it is necessary to preserve Caribou-meat for use at a future period, it 
is cut into thin slices and dried over the smoke of a fire, and then pounded 
between two stones. This pounded meat is dry and husky when eaten 
alone; but when a quantity of the black fat, or depowillé, of the Deer is added 
to it, it is one of the greatest treats that can be offered to a resident in the fur 
countries. 

The Caribou travel in herds varying in number from eight or ten to two 
or three hundred, and their daily excursions are generally toward the quarter 
whence the wind blows. The Indians kill them with the bow and arrow or 
gun, take them in snares, or spear them in crossing rivers and lakes. The 
Eskimos also take them in traps ingeniously formed of ice or snow. Of all 
the Deer of North America, the Barren-ground Caribou is the easiest to 
approach, and they are slaughtered in the greatest numbers. <A single family 
of Indians will sometimes destroy two or three hundred in a few weeks, and in 
many cases they are killed for their tongues alone. 

This Deer is described as of an unsuspecting but inquisitive disposition. 
The northern hunter, when he sees a Caribou feeding in the open plain, 


THE CARIBOU. 101 


approaches as near as possible without being seen, then throws himself on the 
ground, draws his coat of skins over his head, and arranges it so as to 
resemble somewhat the form of a Deer. He then attracts the animal’s attention 
by aloud bellow. Urged on by curiosity, the silly Caribou approaches to 
examine the mysterious object, capering about and running round in circles. 
Meanwhile the Indian lies perfectly still, well knowing that his prey will not 
be satisfied until he can get a near view. When within a short distance, ten or 
twenty yards, the hunter shoots him with an arrow. 

Before the introduction of fire-arms—which are common at ‘present 
amongst nearly all the North American tribes—the Indians used their bows 
and arrows, however simple and rude in construction, with singular expertness 
and deadly effect. 

Another mode of capturing the Arctic Caribou may be thus described, and 
it may be easily imagined that the process results in the most extensive and 
deadly slaughter: A large inclosure of brush, sometimes a mile in circum- 
ference, is constructed, with a narrow entrance, situated upon one of the most 
frequented paths or runways of the Deer. Within are a multitude of winding 
lanes formed of the same material, 1n these they place a great many snares 
made of Deer-skin thongs of great strength; and then by various expedients the 
hunters manage to drive a herd of Deer into the inclosure. The terrified ani- 
mals run about in all directions through the winding avenues, become entangled 
in the snares, and soon the whole herd is killed. Great numbers, it is said. are 
slain in this way; and some families are so successful that they do not require 
to remove their tents more than two or three times in a season. 


The late Elkanah Billings, one of the leading paleontolo- 
gists of his time, and a naturalist of distinguished ability, 
thus speaks of the Barren-ground Caribou: - 

From all the information we have been able to collect upon the subject, the 
Tarandus Arcticus never travels so far south as Canada, although its near rela- 
tive, the Woodland Caribou, is abundant in certain parts of the province (now 
the dominion). Audubon and Bachman state that from the ‘ Barren 
Grounds” it ranges westward across the continent; and that it is mentioned by 
several authors as inhabiting the Fox, or Aleutian, Islands. 

At the present day, it is a well-known fact that the Cari- 
bou, most likely the Arctic species, is quite abundant in 
Alaska. Mr. Billings continues: 

It is not found so far to the southward on the Pacific or the Atlantic Coast, 
nor on the Rocky Mountains within the limits of the United States. In every 
part of Arctic America, including the region from Hudson’s Bay to far within 
the Arctic Circle, the Barren-ground Caribou is met with in greater or lesser 
abundance. 

I have devoted considerable space and as much care as 
possible in the foregoing authentic—so far as my researches 


102 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


warrant—description of the characteristic peculiarities, 
habits, habitat, geographical distribution, and physical con- 
formation of the Barren-ground Caribou. I have done this 
for two reasons: First, because the Zarandus Arcticus is 
one of the most curious and interesting animals of the entire 
cervine genus; and, secondly, because this beautiful animal 
is, perhaps, the least known, generally speaking, of the 
large family of the Cervide. In anatomical structure, and 
in all other respects, the Caribou of the Far North is admi- 
rably adapted to the cold and inhospitable regions in which 
he finds his home. Without the Caribou, the native inhab- 
itants indigenous to the frigid regions in which Nature has 
fixed their congenial habitat could not exist. The pre- 
carious supply of Walrus and Seals would inadequately 
compare with the abundant provision found in the Rein- 
deer, an abundance which must soon become limited, should 
the unwise and improvident slaughter to which I have 
referred be much longer permitted to continue. 


From the view of a sportsman and a naturalist, it seems — 


to me that wise and rational legislation should be made to 
control the Indian, as it does, or ought to do, the white 
man. Culpable and barbarous extermination of large 
game, which constitutes the glory of the forests of any land, 
is worse than willful setting of fire to the woods. Society 
should protect itself against criminals guilty of either act; 
and the law, with a wise, strong, and relentless hand, should 
protect the Indian against himself. 


The Barren-ground Caribou is less cunning and less wary. 


than any other species of Deer; and, consequently, when, as 
shortly will be the case, the iron-horse plunges through the 
frigid habitat of the Musk-ox and the Tarandus Arcticus, 
and the roar of the steam-whistle startles the affrighted 
denizens of the Arctic Circle, the enterprising sportsman, 
armed with the deadly repeating-rifle, will soon decimate 
the mighty herds which still exist, despite the deplorable 
butchery of the Indians on the constituted highways of 
their migrations, as well as by means of the pens already 
described. 


Pe ae Tey ee ea 


aa al a ae ala Oa 


a eT RN! ey ere 


THE CARIBOU. 103 


On this head, Parker Gillmore says: 


Capable of resisting with comparative impunity the greatest severity of 
cold, they suffer severely from heat, to avoid which they make two migrations 
annually to the north in summer, grazing back to the south in winter. During 
these journeys the greatest destruction to the species takes place, for they 
almost invariably follow the same line of march, with which the natives 
are acquainted, and where they wait for the herd, either entering mountain 
defiles or crossing rivers, when they are surrounded and indiscriminately 
slaughtered. They are also hunted on snow-shoes, after the manner of hunting 
the Moose. 

When the time comes to which I have referred above, 
the interminable plains and hills of the Arctic Circle will, 
by the annihilation of time and space, be almost next ours 
then we shall have many an interesting and thrilling tale of 
flood and field for the sporting journals, to delight the soul 
of the sportsman who has neither the time nor the money 
to spare to enable him to visit those, at present, far-off 
fields of sport. We shall all then become as well acquainted 
with the Musk-ox, the Polar Bear, the Walrus, the Barren- 
ground Caribou, and the fields of ice which glisten beneath 
the eternal splendor of the unsetting sun, and the distinct 
crackling of the aurora borealis, as we now are with the 
game animals and birds of ourown country. Sporting litera- 
ture, notwithstanding what mere humanitarian writers and 
thinkers may say to the contrary, has an elevating and 
humanizing effect; and the true sportsman, wherever you 
find him, in the palace or in the humble cot, on the mount- 
ain-side or in the vale, on land or water, in the city or amid 
the glorious and sublime solitudes of Nature, is ever and 
always a gentleman. 

In the country as far as two hundred and fifty miles 
north of the Ottawa River, in the unbroken wilds of which 
the Woodland Caribou abounds, I know of no authentic 
accounts of the appearance of the Arctic species. During 
very severe winters, the Ptarmigan comes southward to the 
pine woods, within one hundred and fifty miles of the 
Ottawa. Many of them are brought to this city, and 
mounted by taxidermists. The wanderer of the Arctic 
Circle never, that I have learned of, comes so near. 


104 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Although the European Stag and Scandinav an Elk are 
represented in America by their more ponderous cousins, 
the Wapiti and the Moose, Europe, or any other part of the 
Old World, has no parallel to our Barren-ground Caribou. 
The Woodland Caribou, in almost every point, is iden- 
tical with the European Reindeer; but it would seem that no 
other part of the world produces an animal sufficiently 
similar in form, size, and generic characteristics to our 
Arctic Caribou as to warrant the determination of an 
identity of species. This I consider a very strong argu- 
ment in favor of the very generally received conclusion 
arrived at by distinguished naturalists, that the Barren- 
ground Caribou is a distinct species of the genus Cervide. 
Constitutionally formed and fitted to inhabit a country 
peculiarly suited to his nature and wants, he stands, as it 
were, alone, the cervine lord of a territory as yet untrodden 
by any other branch of the great deciduous-horned family 

to which he belongs. The Mule Deer and the smaller 
- animal, the Black-tail, are much more similar in general 
features than are the two varieties of Caribou, both of 
which differ from the Virginia Deer, not the least distinct 
of such difference being in the shape of the antlers and the 
style of their growth. In the Virginia species the prongs 
grow from the posterior side of the beam, while in the 
antlers of the Mule and the Black-tail they spring from the 
anterior. Inhabiting such a distant and inhospitable por- 
tion of America, it is but natural to conclude that there is 
still much to learn about this interesting member of the 
Deer family. When he shall have disappeared from the 


fastnesses of his Arctic habitat —if the time shall ever 


come—the aboriginal inhabitants of that section of America, 
whose existence mainly depends upon him, in all human 
probability shall also have disappeared from all but the 
page of history. 

If I have written one sentence upon any portion of the 
history of the Reindeer of America; if I have been fort- 
unate enough to be able to contribute one thought which 
is calculated to amuse or entertain my large family of rela- 


ee ee eS a Le ae ee ee eee BT ee 


ET ee Le et ee ee ee eet eT 


BA gta 


Fie Ba vN en eet 


THE CARIBOU. 105 


tions—the sportsmen of America; if I have been permitted 
to add one well-authenticated fact to the fascinating records 
of this singularly interesting species of the great family of 
Deer—I shall congratulate myself upon the, to-me, gratify- 
ing conclusion that I have not been all my life an enthusi- 
astic sportsman in vain. 


And now my pleasant task is done; 
It brings back many a glorious run, 
Emerging from the lambent haze 
Which circles round the camp-fire’s blaze, 
Revealing to fond memory’s eye 
The dear departed scenes gone by, 
When limbs were lithe and arms were strong, 
And life one gladsome burst of song— 
Revealing, ’mid unfading sheen, 
The ‘‘ runway ” in the forest green; 

‘**The antler’d monarch’s” springing bound; 
The matchless music of the hound, 
When headlong on the steaming scent, _ 
With instinct true as steel, he went! 
The gaze into the spreading track, 
The breaking twig, the rifle’s crack, 
The quivering limb, the closing eye— 
The forest’s dying majesty! 


THE WOODLAND CARIBOU. 


By Dr. R. B. CANTRELL. 


PNTIL a very recent date, little could be earned of the 
real character of the Caribou (Rangifer Caribou), 
and museums monopolized exhibitions of stuffed 
g specimens, with monographic descriptions of this 
almost mythical species of the Deer family. Now, however, 
facts can be multiplied without which it was before impossi- 
ble to gain any scientific knowledge of the Caribou. ‘‘ When 
doctors disagree,’ etc. Even such distinguished naturalists 
as Audubon and Agassiz collided on the generic name of 
the lordly, independent Woodland Caribou, that defied all 
the arts of man to domesticate or train for any useful 
purpose, as his congener, the European Reindeer, is trained. 
As Agassiz only proposed a name—Cervus hastatus—it was 
not finally adopted, and Audubon and Bachman requested 
their subscribers to alter the name on their plates—splendid 
illustrations—to the common name under which the Caribou 
has become known and recognized in America, and that can 
by no possibility lead to any misapprehension. Rangifer 
Caribou is therefore conceded by all authorities to be the 
most applicable to the Woodland Caribou, and Rangifer 
Greenlandicus to the Barren-ground Caribou of the Arctic 
regions. The Greenland Reindeer is as distinct from its 
European cousin as is the Woodland Reindeer, although he 
is much smaller than the Woodland Caribou; the latter 
averaging in weight two hundred and seventy pounds, 
while that of the Arctic brother is only one hundred and 
‘twenty-five pounds. 
In regard to its boreal habitat, the Caribou resembles the 
Moose, as well as in its palmated antlers, its overhanging 


muzzle, and the shape of its foot. But the Moose has a 
(107) 


Pe 


108 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


large, coarse, ugly ear, while the Caribou has the smallest 
and shortest ear of all the Deer family. To this fact the 
trappers of the Maine woods attribute that acute sense of 
hearing that enables the Caribou to detect the slightest 
sound, even the rustle of a single dry leaf, and which will 
start him like an arrow from the range of his pursuers. 

It is difficult to assign limits to the range of the Caribou. 
The habitat of the Rangifer Caribou has been a mooted 
point that can be settled only by an agreement to differ with 
any rigid limitation. Migrating occasionally to the polar 
regions of his Eskimo brother, the Rangifer Greenland- 
icus, our Woodland species may be only paying a cere- 
monious visit, attracted by the feast of Reindeer moss there 
so liberally spread out for him; or, perhaps, negotiating for 
reservations for future occupancy, beyond the widening 
hunting-grounds of the dreaded white man. It is certain 
that the Woodland is chiefly found about Hudson’s Bay, in 
Maine, and the States bordering on the St. Lawrence. 

Emmons considers it doubtful if the Caribou ever inhab- 
ited Massachusetts; but he has occasionally appeared in the 
northern parts of Vermont and New Hampshire. Richard- 
son gives as a northern limit the southern extremity of 
Hudson’s Bay, reaching as far west as Lake Superior, and 
southerly to New Brunswick and Maine. 

Caton asserts, contrary to most authorities, that west 
of the Barren Grounds the range of the Woodland Caribou 
extends north to the limits of the continent, and that in the 
northern parts of Montana and Washington, and in British 
Columbia, they are claimed to be still larger than on the 
Atlantic Coast. Wecan not surmise any confusion as to 
the two families, Rangifer Caribou and Rangifer Green- 
landicus, in the mind of Caton after the statement we have 
made as to the relative averages of the weight of both 
species. Besides, the frank confession of that distinguished 
naturalist, in his treatise on the Antilo-capra and Cervide 
of North America, that he has failed to domesticate the 
Caribou, while he has held in captivity every other species 
of American Deer, affords ground for confidence in his state- 


ee. 


“s — 


ee ee ee ee 


ee ee a et, 
sia ED sf 


THE WOODLAND CARIBOU. 109 


ments of what he does know; and to this author all friends 
of the Caribou are more indebted for facts than to any other 
recent writer. 

Like the Chameleon, the Caribou changes color, to the 
eyes of investigators, and this gives rise to very amusing 
disputes. Pallas describes it as of a rich, glossy reddish- 
brown in summer, becoming grizzly about head, neck, and 
belly toward winter; but he declares it never becomes any- 
thing approaching to white! In the face of this statement, 
Audubon gives us a beautiful Caribou, ‘‘in pure white and 
brown,” painted from Nature, and Caton says ‘‘ the body is 
sometimes nearly all white.’’ For ocular demonstration, 
the contributor has only to look at a skin that affords a soft, 
white couch for his little daughter, who makes her annual 
pilgrimage to the haunts of the Caribou in the Maine woods. 
In July and August the Caribou sheds its winter coat, and 
we find it with a smooth coat of short hair, a mingled red 
and yellow brown, the under surface of the neck and belly 
and the inner sides of the extremities remaining white all 
the year. During the winter months, the hairs become so 
thick and close that they stand erect, and the brittle 
colored points are rubbed off, leaving a soft, white fur, 
especially on the flanks. When the gad-fly makes its 
appearance, at the close of winter, the Caribou rids himself 
of his tormentor, and the remainder of his color-tipped hair 
at the same time, by rubbing against rocks and stones, until 
he becomes entirely white, and looks as spectral as a soiled 
white fur will admit. 

The horns are so varied in shape that no two samples can 
be found alike, and in no individual case do the horns grow 
into the same shape or number of prongs as in the season 
before. In both sexes there is a remarkable development 
of brow-antlers, which extend forward over the forehead. 
The horns of the Barren-ground Caribou are larger and 
more graceful than those of the Woodland Caribou, 
although he is so much smaller in size. <A distinguishing 
peculiarity of the Caribou antler is the great length of 
beam of the antler in proportion to its thickness. In the 


110 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


adult, some of the branches of the antlers are palmated, the 
upper branches having posterior projections. Almost inva- 
riably, the brow-tines on one of the antlers is broadly 
palmated., 

To interested readers, the following dimensions of a pair 
of antlers which the writer lately measured may not be out 
of place. Bearing in mind that the horns in both sexes are 
irregularly palmated, bifurcated, and rather long, we find 
a specimen where the two main antlers are furnished with 
irregular, sharp points, some of them seven inches in length 
but most of them quite short: Width between the horns, 
on the skull, eight and three-fourths inches; depth, one and 
three-fourths inches; length of main beam, three feet. There 
is a palmated brow-antler, with four points, inclining down- 
ward and inward; on the opposite horn there are two points, 
but the antler is not palmated. Immediately above the 
brow-antlers there is a branch, or prong, on each horn, about 
fourteen inches in length, terminating in three points; these 
prongs incline forward and inward. About half the length 
of the horn from the skull, there is another prong on each, 
about two inches long; beyond these prongs each horn con- 
tinues about the same thickness, spreading outward slightly 
to within a few inches of its extremity, where one diverges 
into five points and the other into six. The horns are but 
slightly channeled, and are dark yellow. Between the tips, 
where they approach each other, the horns are two feet 
apart, and at their greatest width two feet eight inches. 

Nature has been so lavish in bestowing all this parure of 
horn on the favored Caribou, that the small ears can hardly 
be criticised. Five inches, posteriorly, in height, flattened, 
very broad at the base, and tapering to the end, they are 
less in size than those of the Elk, but more active. 

As an offset to the advantage of the Elk in the size of 
ears, the Caribou boasts of a somewhat longer tail. It is 
-about four inches vertebra, and, including hair, six and a 
half inches long. 

The hoof of the Woodland Caribou gives it an advan- 
tage over every pursuer, except the nimble Wolf. The bones 


THE WOODLAND CARIBOU. 111 


connected with the accessory hoof in the Caribou are more 
than ten times as large as they are in the common Deer. In 
‘‘Forest Life in Arcadie,’’? Captain Hardy’s enthusiastic 
description reads as follows: 

I can aver that its foot is a beautiful adaptation to the snow-covered country 
in which it resides, and that on ice it has naturally an advantage similar to that 
obtained artificially by the skater. In winter-time the frog is entirely absorbed, 
and the edges of the hoof, now quite concave, grow out in their sharp ridges, 
each division on the under surface presenting the appearance of a huge 
mussel-shell. The frog ‘is absorbed by the latter end of November, when the 
lakes are frozen; the shell grows with great rapidity, and the frog does not fill 
up again till spring, when the antlers bud out. With this singular conforma- 
tion of the foot, its great lateral spread, and the additional assistance afforded 
in maintaining a foot-hold on slippery surfaces by the long, stiff bristles which 
grow downward from the fetlock, curving upward underneath between the 
divisions, the Caribou is enabled to proceed over crusted snow, to cross frozen 
lakes, or ascend icy precipices with an ease which places him beyond the reach 
of all pursuers. 

When startled, the Caribou’s gait is like that of the Moose 
—a long, steady trot, breaking into a brisk walk. Some- 
times he gallops, and when suddenly frightened or pro- 
voked, will bound a distance of twenty feet. In this 
connection, an amusing incident occurs to mind. John 
Danforth is the proprietor of Camp Caribou, on Parma- 
chene Lake, in the Maine woods. Having been teased by 
trappers and guides about his neglecting fine opportunities 
to train the Caribou, Mr. Danforth trapped two fine ani- 
mals, and, before his admiring assistant guide, proceeded to 
attach a rein, in the shape of a lasso, to one of the 
untamed creatures. Unfortunately for the courageous 
trainer, the Caribou determined to reverse the order of 
things, and teach his presuming tutor the lesson that what 
we aim at is not always obtained, when we aim for the sake 
of what we get, and slipping the lasso to his flanks, he 
made a bound of some twenty feet, carrying his trainer, 
like the tail of a kite, in a straight line after him, and 
dropping him only to make another leap. Finding his tor- 
mentor still holding on to him, a third bound finished the 
performance. Mr. Danforth found himself in such a bat- 
tered condition that ‘‘he thought every bone in his body 


112 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


was broken,’’ and his interested witness cried out: ‘* Hang 
on, John, hang on,’’ until the final catastrophe, when he 
was rolling on the ground in a fit of laughter, and pausing 
at intervals to say, ‘‘Oh, John, how your eyes stuck out!”’ 

Mr. Danforth has a number of fine specimens of mounted 
Caribou-heads. 

All attempts to transport the Caribou across the Atlantic 
have failed. They have invariably died on the voyage. 
Some attribute their deaths to lack of Reindeer moss. 

Like all the Cervide family, the Caribou is very wary, 
and frequents marshy places, dense forests, or high, rocky 
hills which are difficult of ascent. He feeds on arboreous 
food, grasses, and aquatic plants, and his flesh is always 
tender, though sometimes insipid and tasteless. 

In my estimation, the order of preference is, Moose first, 
Caribou second, and Virginia Deer third. . 

The best time for hunting the Caribou is about the middle 
of December, and the best arm, in my judgment, a Marlin 
or a Winchester repeating-rifle, with 45-70 cartridge, which 
I consider the most killing cartridge for all large game. 

As indicating the difficulties often encountered in hunting 
the Caribou, I will relate a bit of my experience in com- 
pany with one of the best and oldest guides of the Dead 
River region, Andrew Douglas. 

_ We left King and Bartlett Camp, crossing three miles 
over the mountains, and going in a birch canoe more than a 
mile on Baker’s Pond, when we heard the splashing of a 
Caribou in a little bay masked in by alders, through which ~ 
we could not possibly get a shot or make our way. The 
Caribou, alarmed at the unavoidable sounds we made, fled. 
He left immense tracks that could not be mistaken, and we 
made a second attempt to catch him the next night. Again 
we were baffled, though the Caribou was evidently feeding 
and drinking in the same inclosure. In desperation at his 
escaping again, we cut away the alders, and hoped to meet 
our wary opponent in a fair and open encounter the third 
night; but he anticipated our conclusion, and did not appear. 
that night. 


THE WOODLAND CARIBOU. 113 


Often, when one least expects to meet the Caribou, he 
appears. This I experienced one night to my great sur- 
prise. During my last fall’s trip to the Maine woods, I was 
out on Big Spencer Pond, ‘‘jacking’’ for Deer. Through the 
darkness I suddenly discerned a light figure standing in 
the water up to its middle, and a pair of eyes like fire-balls 
looking toward our silent boat. As it was too late in the 
season for Deer to come into the water, I wondered what 
it could be. A shot from my Marlin sent the wotnded 
animal flying from the lake, and I was not sure it was a 
Caribou until I saw his tracks the next morning. I trailed 
him a mile by the blood before I found him, and considered 
myself in luck, as the Caribou has great vitality, and will 
sometimes go five miles, after being fatally wounded, 
before stopping. 

A brief summary of the points touched upon, must 
form the conclusion of this paper: Summer pelage, brown 
and white; winter vesture, grayish ash and white; hair, 
soft and woolly underneath, the longer hair porous and brit- 
tle, from one to one and a half inches long; skin, thin, 
soft, and makes pliable leather. 


THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. 


By Tuomas G. FARRELL. 


S the Virginia Deer is to the Eastern States, so is the 

Columbia Black-tailed Deer (Cervus Colwmbianus) 

5 tothe Far West—. e., the latter species constitutes 

==" the common Deer of this region. By the term Far 

West I refer to that portion of North America which lies 
between the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific Ocean. 

There are many who suppose that, besides the Elk, the 
Black-tailed Deer.is the only representative of the Cervide to 
be found in this region, and before I proceed further, I wish 
to correct this erroneous impression. A person seeking | 
information regarding the varieties, habits, and character- 
istics of the game of a certain region, is likely to think, 
upon meeting with a hunter of large experience, that from 
him he can gain all the information desired; but, from my 
own experience, I find that these people are often unrelia- 
ble, for, although honest in their opinions, they differ 
greatly. One will make assertions which the others will 
most emphatically contradict, and the only means of arriv- 
ing at anything like a correct conclusion is to take the 
statements of large numbers of these people, and, by com- 
paring these and sifting out what appear to be the most 
logical and accurate of their statements, the truth may be 
arrived at. 

Some writers not having followed this or any other legiti- 
mate course of investigation, this region has been robbed of 
the credit due it as the abode of several species of the Deer 
family. 

The Moose, the grandest of this grand family, supposed 
by many to be found nowhere west of the Rocky Mount- 


ains, is met with in considerable numbers in the Bitter Root 
; (115) 


116 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Range, and along the headwaters of the Clear Water 
River, a tributary of the majestic Columbia. It is also 
found on the Big Hole River and its tributaries, in Western 
Montana. The Mule Deer is also to be found in the same 
region, as well as on the eastern slope of the Cascade Mount- 
ains. Caribou are plentiful in British Columbia; and in 
Northern Washington and Idaho there is still another 
member of this interesting family, which is a native of this 
region, and whose existence has been almost universally 
overlooked. It is the White-tailed Deer to which I refer. 
This animal is undoubtedly a distinct species, as it is 
smaller, and has a longer tail and shorter ears, than the 
Black-tail. In color it is lighter than the other Deer, and 
it usually inhabits lower ground. So the reader will see 
that the Deer family is well represented on the Pacific 
Coast, there being at least six different species. 

But by far the most common member of this family, on 
the Pacific Slope, is the Columbia Black-tailed Deer, so 
named because it was first noticed by Lewis and Clarke, 


while they were in the region of the great river of that — . 


name. This animal is to be met with from Lower California 
to Cook’s Inlet, in Alaska. In size he is intermediate 
between the Mule Deer and the Virginia Deer, for, although 
no taller than the latter, he is more compactly built. I 
know of a Black-tailed buck having been killed which 
weighed two hundred and seventy pounds after having been 
disemboweled, and there are authentic reports of still larger - 
specimens. Such animals are rarities, however, the average | 
weight of a full-grown buck being from one hundred and 
seventy-five to two hundred and twenty-five pounds. 

In summer the animal is of a light cinnamon color, but 
it is in the late fall and winter that it attains its most beau- 
tiful pelage. The color of the animal at this season is a 
beautiful steel-gray on the back and sides; the throat, 
inside of legs, and belly being white. The tip of the nose 
is black, but just back of it, and on the lower jaw, the color 
is white. Between this and the universal gray there is a 
beautiful black band encircling the muzzle. The forehead 


THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. 117 


and baek are slightly darker than the rest of the body, and 
the tail is entirely covered with hair. The color of this 
appendage is white on the under side, and black, or very 
dark, above. In the Rocky Mountains and headwaters of 
the Missouri River, the Mule Deer is frequently mistaken 
by hunters for the Black-tail. This mistake is a very par- 
donable one, for the Mule Deer also sports some black on 
his fly-disturber, if it may be so designated. One of the 
infallible proofs of the distinctiveness of the two species, 
is that the tail of the Mule Deer is naked on the under side, 
while that of the Black-tail is, as I have previously men- 
tioned, entirely clothed with hair. In color, the female is 
almost identical with the male. 

The eyes of this Deer are probably the most beautiful of 
those of any of the Cervide of this country, they being 
large and black, and possessing that soft, liquid appear- 
ance associated with the eyés of the Jersey cow. Although 
he can see a great distance, and has what may be gener- 
ally termed acute vision, his great curiosity often tempts 
him to linger-long after he has discerned the hunter. In 
mountainous and open countries, this fact is sometimes 
taken advantage of by hunters, who lure him on to destruc- 
tion ina manner similar to that in which Antelope are often 
stalked; but let the Black-tail once scent the hunter, which 
he can do at almost twice as great a distance as any other 
Deer, and there will be but little likelihood of his getting a 
shot at that particular Deer for some time to come. When 
disturbed, he goes off with a bounding motion, seemingly 
proud of his steel-spring-like legs. 

The antlers of a full-grown buck consist of two main 
beams, which spring backward and upward from the head, 
and from each of which spring from one to six tines, accord- 
ing to the age of the individual. The antlers of this species 
are not nearly as large and majestic as those of the Mule 
Deer. When a buck is one year old he has two ‘‘spikes”’ 
rising from his head; when he is two years of age these 
spikes will each have a branch, and when he is three 
years old there will be three pommels to each horn. After 


118 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


this, the age of the animal can not be reckoned with any 
degree of certainty. In common with the rest of the Deer 
family, the horns of this species are shed annually. In 
the spring the horn becomes loose and drops from the head, 
and from the same spot the new horn begins to grow, as if 
it had pushed the old horn off. The buck immediately 
takes to the thick brush—usually to the high mountains— 
there to remain until his new head-ornaments—or weapons, 
if you please—have attained their entire growth. This pro- 
ceeding takes place in the almost incredibly short time of. 
from four to six weeks. By this time the antlers are as 
large as they ever will be, but are soft, and covered with 
that beautiful brown substance known as the velvet. If 
cut, the horn will bleed, and if one should kill a buck while 
in the velvet, and there should happen to be any dogs about 
camp, he will have to keep a watch on them, for the dogs 
have a great fondness for the soft horn. Indians ane China- 
men are also very fond of it. 

While the horn is in its extremely soft state, the animals — 
are generally in poor condition. It does not take them 
long to pick up what they have lost, however, and by fall — 
they are enormously fat. 

When the antlers are grown to their entire size, the 
animal seeks the ridges and elevated spots, where he may 
be found sunning his beautiful head-ornaments. Under 
this treatment, or from other causes, the horns soon become 
covered with creases, and appear to shrink. They get hard, 
and the animal proceeds to rub them against overhanging 
limbs, or the bodies of small shrubs, thus removing the 
velvet. The antlers do not become perfect until fall, when 
the velvet is entirely removed, and the horn is hard and 
highly polished. 

The rutting-season occurs in October and November, and 
* at this season the actions of the bucks are very peculiar, not 
to say ludicrous. Their necks swell to a large size, so that 
the hitherto loose skin of the same becomes actually tight. 
With bulging eyes and wide-spread legs, they plunge 
through the forest as if possessed of an unclean spirit. It 


THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. 119 


is a well-known fact that at this season of the year they 
seem to lose almost all sense of fear, hardly noticing even a 
hunter when they meet him, or, if they should do so, 
plainly showing that they would almost as soon fight as 
flee. During this season, the bucks have terrific combats 
among themselves, during which they sometimes get their 
horns interlocked, in which case both animals perish 
miserably. 

The venison of a buck during the rutting-season is 
tough, and has a strong, disagreeable flavor. After the 
buck has won for himself a mate, the two animals may be 
found together until the fawns are born, which event 
occurs during the following spring. A doe of this species 
generally has two, but sometimes three, most beautifully 
spotted fawns. The spots are almost white, and remain on 
the young animals until they are about five months old. 

The buck takes but little interest in the welfare of his 
offspring, but the doe is a devoted mother. When sur- 
prised in company with her fawns, there is a general 
scattering, but it will not be long before the mother will be 

seen timidly returning, to find out how her young are 
faring. The hunter who takes advantage of the mother’s 
devotion must be hungry indeed, or else possessed of 
an inhuman desire to slaughter. The killing of spotted 
fawns is forbidden by the laws of most States, but this does 
not prevent the killing of a great many of them by Wild- 
cats, Panthers, Wolves, and other beasts of prey. 

In mountainous countries, where the snow falls to a 
great depth during the winter, the Black-tailed Deer form 
yards, as do the Elk and Moose. This term applies to a 
tract of country which is selected by the animals on 
account of the abundance of food, in the form of deciduous 
trees, mosses, and lichens, that is to be found there, and 
in which a large number of Deer make their headquarters 
during the entire winter. 

It is in such a place, and under such circumstances, that 
the ruthless Indian gets in his deadly work. In the Bitter 
Root and Coeur d’Alene Mountains, where Indians are 


120 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA. 


numerous, they gather together every winter for a great 
annual slaughter. With snow-shoes and repeating-rifles, 
they will swoop down on a Deer-yard, and before the 
affrighted animals can escape through the deep drifts, 
many of them will be stretched out on the snow. Their 
flesh is cut into strips, and converted into jerked venison. 

One of the localities where the Black-tail are found in 
the greatest abundance is in Southern Oregon, among the 
foot-hills of the Siskiyou Mountains. Here the country is 
largely timbered with huge pines, with but little under- 
brush, which makes hunting easy, and the recollections of 
the evils that have been perpetrated i in this fair region, by 
the skin-hunter and jerked-venison fiend, are enough to 
chill the blood of any lover of the Cervide. These skin- 
hunters are about as mean a set of scoundrels as ever went 
unhung. <A couple of these sneaking apologies for men, 
who are thoroughly acquainted with the country, and well 
armed, will start out, and, will, in a single day, kill and skin 
a dozen, and sometimes two dozen, Deer. The hides only are 
taken, the carcasses being left to form food for birds and 
animals of prey. The jerked-venison fellow is one degree 
higher than the skin-hunter, for he saves the hams also, 
which he cures and sends to market. I have known a single 
shooter—I can not call him hunter, much less sportsman—to 
sit on a ridge which commanded a couple of ravines, and in 
a single evening shoot down fourteen Black-tailed Deer as 
they came down to the creek to drink. Thanks to our 
sportsmen’s clubs, these matters are being looked into, and 
the evils somewhat abated. 


As Black-tailed Deer inhabit almost all kinds of country, 


they are hunted in different manners. Still-hunting is. 


doubtless the most humane and sportsmanlike manner of 
hunting them, but some gentlemen, who are undoubtedly 
sportsmen, insist upon pursuing them with hounds. The 
only instance in which this is excusable is where the brush 
is very dense and the game scarce, for, as a hounder ex- 
plained to me, one might, under such circumstances, still- 


baci eer Ce ar ee noe ee 


THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. 121 


hunt a week and never catch sight of a Deer. Their sense 
of hearing and smell is so acute that they will discover the 
_ hunter long before he suspects the presence of the game. 

_ When chased by hounds, they will take to water to throw 
off the dogs; but this they do not doas readily as do the Vir- 
ginia and White-tailed Deer. They seem to prefer leading the 
hounds awhile before resorting to this their last expedient. 
Hounding undoubtedly has a bad effect on any species of 
Deer, for the sight and sound of dogs pursuing them 
frightens them so that they frequently desert a section 
entirely when they are persistently hounded. Another bad 
feature about this sport is that, in a country where hound- 
ing is carried on to any great extent, the ranchmen or 
farmers soon learn what the music of the hounds means, 
_and upon hearing them they immediately repair to the 
nearest runway, shotgun in hand. The reader will doubt- 
less understand the difficulty the Deer will experience, in 
such a case, in getting through the line of pickets which soon 
encircles it. : 

The venison of an animal which has been running at its 
highest speed for two or three hours must, of necessity, be 
far inferior to that of an animal which meets death in a 
milder manner. I have known a man to take great pride in 
telling how his dogs, which were part Blood-hound, and 
which were allowed to run freely in the woods, would take 
the track of a Deer or an Elk and run the animal to death. 

But there are certain circumstances under which I can 
see nothing unsportsmanlike in hounding Deer. Let us take 
the following as an instance: <A party of gentlemen, worn 
out with the cares of business, decide to take a day in the 
woods. Hounds are procured, and they repair to some part 
of the country which is but little settled, and where Deer 
are to be found. The stands are taken and the dogs put 
out. They take the track of a Deer, and away they go. 
Probably for an hour or so the hunter has nothing to do but 
smoke his pipe, keep his eyes open, and commune with 
Nature. Seated on a moss-covered log, with his gun by his 
side, he watches the antics of the birds and squirrels, which 


122 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA, 


are not long in finding him out. Presently he involuntarily 
checks his hand as it has almost conveyed his pipe to his 
mouth. Hark! What was that sound? He holds his 
breath, and listens. The far-away baying of a hound causes 
him to jump to his feet, rifle in hand, and his heart in his 
throat. Nearerand nearer comes the incomparable music 
of the hounds, now rising to the crest of a hill, now sinking 
into a valley. Louder and louder it rings out in the still 
forest, for the birds and squirrels are quiet now. If the 
hunter has an ear for music, the inimitable voices of the 
dogs make his blood tingle and his hair almost stand on 
end. 

Suddenly, with a rattle and a bound, a magnificent buck 
dashes down the path. The rifle is thrown to the shoulder, 
and the trigger pressed. Perhaps the hunter has the satis- 
faction of seeing his game tumble end over end; perhaps he ~ 
sees his black-and-white tail vanish among the trees witha 
defiant flourish. I say the rifle, for to use a shotgun on a 
Deer is murder, pure and simple. 

One easy manner of hunting Deer is to lay in wait for 
them at a salt-spring, or ‘‘ Deer-lick.’’ In various sections 
of the Far West there are deposits of clay which contain salt, 
or alkali, and in these the Deer and Elk have licked cavities 
capable of hiding several animals at once from the sight of 
a man at some little distance. 

But, reader, think of the feelings of one who has suc- | 
cessfully captured a noble buck by still-hunting! Let us 
suppose that the sportsman starts out early in the morning. 
As he wends his way through the forest, the sun is just com- 
ing up over the distant mountains, and the eastern sky and 
clouds are painted with gold and purple. The birds twitter, 
and the squirrels chatter merrily, as if to welcome the advent 
of day. As he approaches the singing brook, the trout dart 
under the shelving bank, and a covey of grouse springs into 
the surrounding trees. , 

A large section of country is traversed, and although the 
sportsman sees plenty of fresh signs, he has been unable as 
yet to discern a-'single animal. He ascends a ridge. Slowly 


THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. 123 


and stealthily he nears the top, and peers over. His heart 
gives a sudden leap, for in that little glade, just out of gun- 
shot, there are a large buck and a couple of does feeding, all 
unconscious of danger. To get within gunshot, he must 
retrace his steps and make a detour. After a great deal 
of patient work, he gets on the lee side of them, and now .« 


begins the difficult part of the performance. To get within - ? 


_ safe shooting distance, he should reach that little clump of 
bushes out there in the glade; but the ground between him 
and his intended victims is covered with nothing but short 
grass. By crawling a little farther through the brush, he 
gets the clump of bushes between him and the game, and 
then quickly and noiselessly he approaches them. As he 
reaches the brush, he drops to his knees, and, with throbbing 
heart, crawls to the other side. There they are, quietly 
feeding, but moving away. Slowly he raises his rifle and 
covers the buck, but hesitates to fire, hoping that the 
animal will turn, so as to give a side-shot. Presently the 
opportunity offers, and, aiming just behind the shoulder, he 
presses the trigger. 

At the report of the rifle the buck gives one docs 
bound, and falls, while the does quickly betake themselves 
to flight. Well may he feel proud, for he has sought a 
keen, wary animal in its natural home, and outwitted it. 

Again, he is cautiously and stealthily picking his way 
through a tract of brush-land, in which grow a few 
scattering pines and firs. The greatest skill and patience 
are necessary to avoid making loud noises in the dry brush 
and weeds, and alarming all the game within a quarter of a 
mile. He slowly makes his way, however, placing his moc- 
casined feet on the ground with the silence and stealthiness 
of the cat. He makes frequent pauses to peer through the 
brush, in hopes of seeing a patch of gray hair, and listens at- 
tentively, hoping to hear a rustle in the stillness about him. 

He is ignorant of the fact that only a hundred yards 
ahead of him a magnificent buck is taking his morning 
siesta, in his bed just in the edge of a clump of salmon 
bushes. Presently—despite all the care of the sportsman— 


124 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA. ~ 


the buck hears the faint sound of a twig scratching over 
the hunter’s clothing. 

‘‘Ah! what’s that? One of my kind? Or is it a cow, or 
a horse?’’ His antlered head is up; he sniffs the air, looks, 
and listens. ‘‘ No; as I live, it’s one of those still-hunters. © 
‘Tll just lay low, and if he don’t come close to me he 
can’t see me, sheltered as Iam by these brush. But no; he 
is coming my way. Well, adieu, vain young man. Call 
again.’”’ And with a graceful motion his muscular form 
springs into active being, and with a few flying leaps he 
vaults away, over logs, rocks, and whatever obstructions 
come in his way, as buoyantly and as lightly as a kitten 
dances over the carpet. His white flag sways softly from 
side to side, waving the hunter anything but a sign of 
distress. 

At the first rise of the noble game, the rifle comes auto- 
matically to the shoulder; there is a convulsive clutch at 
the trigger, a puff of smoke, a flash of fire, a deafen- 
ing intonation, and a crash of lead through—the brush! 
and, alas! the buck continues his wild leaps, still flaunt- 
ing his defiance in the face of his would-be slayer. 
Another cartridge is thrown into the chamber; another 
and amore careful aim is quickly taken. The sportsman 
is cool now, and there is in his cold gray eye a determina- 
tion to put this bullet where it will count. The Deer is 
now sixty, yes, seventy, yards away, and almost hidden by 
the thick foliage; but just as he rises over a high log the 
leaden missile catches him in the short ribs, crashes through 
his vitals, and comes out at the point of the opposite shoul- . 
der. Suddenly that white flag is closely furled; the great 
stag doubles up and pitches heavily forward; he recovers, 
and makes a few more leaps, but they are no longer fear- 
less and graceful—they are convulsive and catchy. He 
swings from side to side, stumbles, his head drops, and 
finally he goes down, stone-dead. 

On another day, the hunter is tramping through a more 
open country—a heavily wooded region, but where there 
is no underbrush. He has hunted several hours patiently 


THE COLUMBIA BLAOK-TAILED DEER. 125 


> 


and carefully, and though he has seen plenty of fresh signs 
—made last night and early this morning—he has not yet 
seen game. Toward noon he crosses a narrow tamarack 
swamp, and just as he reaches the upland he catches a 
glimpse of several moving objects. His quick and well- 
trained eye is able to discern the forms of a buck, a doe, 
and two fawns, tripping gracefully through the woods at 
right angles to his course, and nearly two hundred yards 
away. There is no favorable opportunity for a shot, for 
only fleeting glimpses of their forms can be seen as they 
pass through openings between the giant pines and hem- 
locks. 

Finally the sportsman utters a plaintive ‘‘bleat.’? The 
_ game stops; but only the rump of one fawn and the head 
of the doe can be seen, the rest of their bodies being hid- 
den by the trees. 

They stand and listen dioly for several minutes— 
it seems like several hours to the hunter. Finally they 
turn and take a few steps toward the source of the familiar 
sound that attracted them. Again they pause, look, and 
listen. The hunter has meantime seated himself on a log, 
with his left foot on a branch of the fallen trunk, in order 
to have an easier position for a shot. This time only faint 
glimpses of the sides of two of the Deer can be seen, and 
as the sportsman peers round the trunk of a great fir that 
stands between him and the game, the doe catches a glimpse 
of the movement. 

That settles it. There is some mystery in that corner of 
the woods, for she has both seen and heard. She will now 
investigate it if it costs her her life. The group moves 
forward again, and again pauses. Still, they are all so 
closely covered as to afford no fair shot. The hunter sits 
motionless; but, despite the fact that he is a veteran, this 
terrible suspense is telling on him, and his heart is pound- 
ing at his ribs like a trip-hammer. The Deer make a few 
more steps toward him, but to save his life he can’t yet see 
a piece of one of them big enough to shoot at. In his time 
he has faced Grizzlies, wounded Buffalo bulls, and even 


126 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Confederate soldiers, without flinching; but somehow this 
pesky business nnnerves him, and he is now shaking like a 
leaf. He wouldn't dare shoot at anything less than the 
broad side of the buck now, and—he blushes to confess it, 
even to himself—he’s afraid he couldn't hit that. 

Again the Deer move forward, bent on finding out what 
it was that moved and that made that noise. This time 
their movement takes them down into alittle swale, so that 
they are entirely hidden from the hunter. But he is sure 
they will come on, and is aware that when they come out 
of the swale they will be less than fifty yards from him. 
Confound this nervousness! His heart is pounding his ribs 
so that he is really afraid the Deer must hear it when they 
stop again. 

But his rifle is at his shoulder, and his left elbow is rest- 
ing on his left knee. In afew seconds the Deer emerge 
from the draw, within thirty yards of him; but now— 
plague take them!—they are behind a big hemlock-log that 
is as high as the doe’s back. Her great dark eyes, and 
those of her children, are peering over the log full at him, 
while the great, spreading antlers of the buck reach up, it 
seems, almost into the branches of the pines. Yet the 
hunter sits motionless—or 4s nearly so as possible—and, 
the wind being in his favor, the game has not yet found 
out that he is alive; but they will soon. They move unea- 
sily, a step or two at a time, from side to side. 

Finally, patience ceases to be a virtue. The hunter can 
stand it no longer. He has cooled down somewhat, and 
drawing a bead on the buck’s neck, he pulls. Fortunately, 
he wabbles on at the supreme moment, and the quarry falls 
dead in his tracks. 

The doe and the fawns bound away as if shot out of a 
cannon. Sir Hubert is still too much rattled to shoot on 
the run; and, as he hoped, the surviving members of the 
family, after having made a few jumps, halt to see why 
pater familias doesn’ t come, and then the sportsman plants 
a bullet in the shoulder of the fawn nearest to him. The 
others skip out again. He fires two more shots at them, 


CURIOSITY SATISFIED, 


THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. 127 


but they go out of sight unscathed. However, it is just 
as well, for he has meat enough and to spare. He is happy, 
for he has again pitted his cunning against that of the 
wildest and most wary animal on the earth, and is again the 
winner. 

Probably the best arm to hunt Black-tailed Deer with 
is the 44-caliber repeating-rifle. Some hunters use the 45- 
caliber, while others will use nothing but a 32-caliber. It 
seems to me, however, that the 45-caliber is better adapted 
to Moose or Elk shooting; and I am satisfied that if the 
hunter armed with nothing but a 32-caliber rifle should 
meet with a Grizzly or Cinnamon Bear, he would feel rather 
uncomfortable. He would then wish, most devoutly, for a 
more powerful weapon. 

Of the many places in which it has been my good fort- 
une to hunt Deer, I think the locality in which I found 
game most abundant, and where the climate and scenery 
combined to make the most pleasant hunting-ground, is in 
the Cascade Mountains, in Oregon. - The region of which I 
speak more particularly is about forty miles east of Cot- | 
tage Grove, a small village in the Willamette Valley. This 
region is the great water-shed of Oregon. Here it is that 
the Willamette and Umpqua Rivers, on one side, and 
the Deschutes. River, on the other side, have their begin- 
nings. 

As the reader is doubtless aware, there are many high 
and beautiful snow-peaks in the Cascade Range; but the 
region of which I write consists of a plateau, the altitude of 
which is between eight and ten thousand feet above the 
level of the sea. Here the snow lies, on the north side of 
the hills, during the entire summer, and the vegetation 
partakes of an Arctic nature. In the valleys there is some 
fine timber, but upon the higher portions of the plateau the 
vegetation is stunted. 

Here one will find small trees growing almost on a level 
with the ground. The weight of the snow has pressed 
them down, so that, instead of growing up straight, as they 
should have done, they consist of but a short trunk and a 


128 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


lot of long limbs. Other trees have a bend in their trunks, 
When young, the snow has pressed them over so as to per- 
manently bend the trunks; but they have afterward 
recovered, and grown straight up. Such cases are numer- 
ous, and the bend often affords the tired hunter a comfort- 
able seat. In some places, rhododendrons, laurel, and other 
shrubs grow abundantly, and afford considerable cover to 
game. Although open, and easily traversed when one 
once gets there, this region is difficult to reach, as many 
miles of rough trail and thick underbrush must be traversed 
before it is reached. 

It has been several years since I visited this region, and 
game may not be as plentiful there now as then; but I 
think that, on account of the inaccessibility of the country, 
the Deer have been but little hunted there. When I was 
there, one could have killed, had he so wished; from six to 
ten Deer almost any day, by simply taking a good stand 
and shooting them as they came to water. As may be con- 
jectured, the snow falls to a great depth in this region 
during the winter. 

I remember once having seen some trees that had been 
cut off fully thirty feet from the ground, and my guide 
explained that they had been so cut by a party of prospect- 
ors who had wintered in this region one season. He said 
that the snow had fallen to such a depth that it was on a 
level with the tops of these stumps. JIasked him how the 
occupants of the old cabin which we found in this ravine 
managed to subsist. He replied that this was easy enough 
as long as the provisions held out, as they kept a space 
around the door packed down, and the fire kept an opening 
through the snow for itself. We may readily fancy the 
loneliness of such a life, away up in this altitude, with 
no animal life within miles, and nothing but howling winds 
and drifting banks of snow to listen to or look at. 

Of course a great deal of this region consists of nothing 


. but rock, but in some places there are patches of soil which 


appear to be very fertile, and in the summer-time these 
spots are made beautiful with shrubs and flowers. I once 


Le Pe ee ee Te tee eT 


il a i a i eh 


ae rr 
Se oe ee ee ee ee 


THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. 129 


picked strawberries with one hand while the other rested 
on a snow-bank. 

Interspersed throughout this region are many seal 
lakes. Some of them are not more than twenty-five or 
thirty acres in extent; but they are all alive with mountain 
trout. Thelarger streams also contain these fish in great 
abundance. As TI have previously mentioned, the Black- 
tailed Deer is here found in great abundance. There are 
also many Elk, Black, Brown, and Cinnamon Bears, Pan- 
thers, Wildcats, etc. In fact, this is an ideal hunting and 
fishing country. 

Once in awhile a few of the Klamath or Warm Spring 
Indians visit this region for a hunt; but they are peaceable, 
and the hunter has nothing to fear from them. No matter 
how rough a piece of country may be, no matter what 
hardships one has to undergo to reach it, you may rest 
assured that the obstacles are not insurmountable to the 
hardy prospector, and that if he has not already been there, 
the near future will witness his advent. So it is with this 
region; for many years ago these enterprising mountain 
men washed the gravel of the creek-beds and chipped the 
rocks of the ledges with their prospecting hammers. The 
diggings proved to be of but little value, but some pretty 
good ledges were discovered. In fact, it was business of 
this nature that gave me my introduction to this country. 

A party of men, including myself, were sent into this 
region to put up some mining machinery. The machinery 
was not heavy, and we experienced no trouble until we 
arrived at Cottage Grove. One bright morning we pulled 
out of that village, our party forming quite a procession, as 
it was composed of some thirty men and almost as many 
horses. Most of the men walked, the animals being used 
to haul the machinery, provisions, etc. For the first ten 
miles we got along very well, but the rest of the forty-mile 
journey was over a trail, than which a rougher would be 
hard to find. 

On the third day we reached our destination, and in the 
course of time all the machinery was setup. My part of the 


130 - - BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


business now being over, I found myself in a great game 
country, with plenty of time to enjoy myself. It is, per- 
haps, needless to add that I availed myself of the oppor- 
tunity to my entire satisfaction. 

I spent many a pleasant day Deer and Elk hunting, and 
I remember one day in particular. It was in the latter part 
of August. The men had been hinting that a little venison 
would be acceptable; so, after breakfast, I took down my 
44-caliber Winchester, and started out alone. Taking the 
summit of a ridge, I walked slowly along, more intent on 
watching the beautiful effects of the rising sun on the 
mountains than on hunting Deer. Suddenly, a buck 
jumped up from a ravine about one hundred yards from me, 
and made a dive for a clump of underbrush. I fired at his 
vanishing form, but failed to stop him. I mentally kicked 
myself just as I pulled the trigger, for I did not want 
to wound any Deer that I did not get, and I knew that 
with me it would be but a chance shot that would kill a 
running Deer at such a distance and under such cireum- 
stances. 

As I sauntered along, Isaw several Deer jump from their 
beds in the canon, and bound off into the brush. Had I 
wanted to kill a lot of Deer, I would have hunted in these © 
places; but I knew that it would be hard to get the veni- 
son out of such places, and thought I would find plenty of 
Deer on the ridges, before the day was over. These ridges 
run one into the other, and by walking along their summits 
one can travel all over this country with but little incon- 
venience. 

It was about ten o’clock when, in passing through a 
clump of brush, I saw, about three hundred yards distant, 
- on the south side of the same ridge, a large buck and a 
doe. 

Of course, I was hunting against the wind, but; as there 
was almost no cover between the game and myself, I saw 
that I would either have to risk a long shot or make a 
detour and come up on the north side of the ridge. I was 
not slow in choosing the latter plan, and, retracing my steps, 


~ 


THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. © 131 


I descended the ridge a short distance. After walking 
parallel with the summit until I thought I was in the 
neighborhood of my game, I cautiously, and as silently as 
- possible, crept up behind a large rock, and peered over. To 
my surprise, no Deer were in sight, and I supposed they 
had taken alarm and fled. I was on the point of jumping to 
my feet in disgust, when suddenly I espied my friends 
almost one hundred yards from me. The doe was now lying 
down, and the buck was browsing in a clump of brush. 

Resting my left elbow on my knee, I drew a bead on the 
buck, and waited for him to show himself more fully. He 
soon came out, and presented a fine side-shot. Taking good 
sight on him just behind the shoulder, I pressed the trigger. 
At the crack of the rifle, he went down like the traditional 
log, while the doe and another buck, which I had not 
noticed, quickly vanished over the ridge. 

Upon going up to my game, I found that the bullet had 
broken both shoulders of a four-point buck. I gave him 
another shot in the head, which quickly put him out of his 
misery. 

I am always careful in approaching a wounded buck, for 
I once saw a companion of mine terribly injured by one of 
these animals. There was a party of us hunting in South- 
ern Oregon, and one of the older members of the party 
had that very day cautioned us to be careful in approach- 
ing a wounded Deer. Poor H—— was hunting on the same 
ridge that I was on. I saw him fire at a buck, and as it 
fell, he laid down his gun, and, drawing his knife, ran up 
to the animal to cut its throat. I thought, by the way the 
animal went down, that it had not received a mortal wound, 
and shouted to him to be careful, at the same time mak- 
ing my way rapidly in his direction. My warning was too 
late, however; for, as he approached it, the buck suddenly 
rose to its feet, and, jumping against the hunter, hurled 
him to the ground. The next instant the animal bounded 
into the air, and came down with all four feet on the pros- 
trate man. At this instant, one of the party, who had 
approached from another direction, fired at the animal and 


132 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


killed it. We had to carry the wounded man sixty miles 
on a stretcher, and he never fully recovered from his terri- 
ble experience. 

After disemboweling my Deer and hanging the carcass 
on a tree, | determined to cross over to another. ridge. To 
do this, I had to descend into a valley which was full of 
brush. As I was pushing my way through this, I suddenly 
became aware of the presence of a Bear. I did not see the 
animal at first, but I smelt her. This may seem strange to 
some of my readers, but it is the fact, nevertheless; and as 
I looked up, I saw a large female Black Bear standing 
erect, not more than thirty feet from me. She was looking 
straight at me, and apparently had her nose turned up, 
thereby disclosing a very formidable set of ivories. When 
she saw that I had discovered her, she gave vent to a deep 
growl that was full of meaning. She probably had cubs in 
the neighborhood, for these animals will generally run from 
aman, unless they be so incumbered. Not wishing to have 

_ any trouble with so quick and powerful an animal in the 
thick brush, I quickly, and as quietly as possible, ‘* craw- 
fished’’ my way into the open. 

Upon getting out, my courage returned to me, and I 
determined to go through there, Bruin or no Bruin; so, 
cocking my Winchester, I marched bravely in, but the 
animal had by this time disappeared. After a hard climb, 
I found myself at noon on top of the highest ridge of 
this high region, and sat down on a rock to eat my lunch. 
My sportsman friend, if you have any love for the beauties 
of Nature, and had been with me that day, you would 
have had but. little time for the disposal of that plain 
- lunch—you would have had your attention almost wholly 
taken up by the beautiful sight which was spread out to 
my vision. You have doubtless visited a cyclorama; and 
the position I occupied was similar to that of the people 
who occupy the central platform of one of these institu- 
tions. A beautiful view was spread out to me on all sides. . 
In these high altitudes the atmosphere is woud. 
clear, and one can see a great distance. 


THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. 133 


- Looking away to the north, my eyes fell on the glitter- 
ing summits of Mount Hood, Mount Jefferson, and the 
Three Sisters. Between them and myself the mighty Cas- 
cade Range stretched its timbered length. Some of the 
mountains were clothed almost to their summits with a 
majestic forest of fir. In some places this had been visited 
_by fire, which some careless camper or settler had allowed 
to spread, and the weather-beaten, but upright, trunks of 


_ thousands of giant trees glistened in the sunlight like so 


many needles, 
Far in the east, towering above the sage-brush plains of 
_ Central Oregon, the hazy summits of a spur of the Blue 
Mountains were seen; to the west, the eye overlooked the 
beautiful and fertile valley of the Willamette; and turning 
to the south, the vision rested on the spotless summits of . 
Diamond Peak, Mount Theilson, Mount Pitt, Mount Scott, 
and last, but not least, Mount Shasta. Truly, this was a 
sight long to be remembered; but the one in my immediate 
neighborhood was hardly less beautiful. 
From my central position, I overlooked a number of 

_ ridges running into each other, in some places slightly — 
covered with snow. These ridges consisted mainly of naked, 
but not unpicturesque, rocks; but in some Eis these were 
hid by a scrubby growth of firs. 
_ Looking down the southern slope of my ridge, I beheld 

a sight that, could it have been transferred to canvas, would 
have formed a most beautiful picture. Here had been 
deposited considerable soil, which appeared to be of a red, 
volcanic nature, but which was sufficiently rich for the sup- 
port of a good deal of vegetation. On this ridge grew 
thousands and thousands of rhododendrons, of three differ- ~ 
ent colors—red, white, and pink. Growing in the moister 
spots were a species of wild pansy, two varieties of lilies, 
and several other beautiful flowers, the names of which I 
am not familiar with. Huckleberry and other shrubs were 
here to be found in great abundance. Thrushes, black- 
caps, grossbeaks, chickadees, and other birds were flutter- 
ing about among the shrubbery, and, strange as it may 


134: BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


seem, this region was the abiding-place of thousands of 
humming-birds, of different varieties and most gorgeous 
plumage. 

I took my rifle, and wandered about among these plants — 
and flowers, drinking in the beautiful sight, for a full hour, 
and as I did so the thought came to me that at last the 
sportsman’s paradise, the mysterious happy hunting- 
ground of the red man, had been discovered. Here was 
game in the greatest abundance; locomotion was easy; 
the climate was nearly perfect, and the air and water were 
the purest in the world; scenery the superior of which is 
not to be found on the continent, and birds, flowers, and 
berries of beautiful colors and forms. 

During the time that I was feasting on Hie beauties of 
Nature I saw several Deer at no great distance, but did not 
- disturb them. Once a large doe jumped up from her bed 
among the shrubs and bounded slowly away; but I was not 
shooting does as long as there were plenty of bucks. The 
afternoon was half-spent before I directed my steps toward 
camp. I had hardly walked three hundred yards, from the 
_ spot where I ate my lunch, when a fine two-point buck 

~ walked out from behind a wall of rock. Throwing my rifle 
to my shoulder, I gave it to him where I thought his heart 
lay. Down. went his tail, and, after making about half a 
dozen quick bounds, over he went on his head. On coming 
up to him, I found that my aim had been true, and that the 
ball had passed through his heart. In such a case a Deer 
will often run as long as he can hold his breath. I soon had 
him hung up, and proceeded on my way to camp. 

I had arrived within almost half a mile’ of camp, when I 
came upon two bucks and three does feeding in a little 
glade. They were not more than fifty yards distant, and 
had not discovered me. So confident was I of killing the 
buck I had selected that I did not take careful aim, and I 
made a clean miss. The does and the other buck ran off in 
alarm, but their curiosity would not admit of their going 
far. The buck that I had fired at gave but a couple of 
bounds, and stood looking at me.. Within a second after I 


THE COLUMBIA BLACK-TAILED DEER. 135 


fired my first shot I was ready for a second, and as he stood 
there, proudly, looking at me, I planted a bullet in the base 
of his neck. This time he did not go far, for the bullet 
went, lengthwise, entirely through his body. Hanging him 
up, I proceeded to camp, where a substantial supper 
awaited me. 

The next morning I took a couple of ponies and brought 
my game to camp. Not long after this it clouded up, and 
there was a slight fall of snow. The miners were not slow 
to take the hint, and the mines and cabins were soon closed 
up, and we all hied ourselves back to civilization. 

It would take an abler pen than mine to give a realistic 
description of this wonderful region. The only way in 
which you can fully appreciate its beauties is to visit it, 
which pleasure I earnestly hope you may sometime enjoy. 


THE MULE DEER. 


By Rev. Josnua Cooke (‘‘ Boone”). 


PRESUME that it is not the design of the editor of 

_ this work to have his contributors go into minute 

details of description of the noble animals of which he 

wishes us to write, especially of the Cervida; the 
handsome and remarkable volume of Judge Caton on ‘‘The 
Antelope and Deer of America’ has left nothing of that 
kind to be done after him. I assume that it is our province 
to give fair general descriptions of the animals, to treat of 
their haunts and habits as we ourselves have discovered 
them, and to narrate such incidents of region, forest life, the 
actual hunt, as should make the reader our companion for 
the time, and the sharer in our instruction and our pleasure 
as we tell the hunt in its details, and ‘‘ fight our battles o’er 
again.’’ It is one of the pleasures remaining to those who 
have been themselves shut out, by busy life or other cause, 
from pursuit of our nobler game animals, to read the stories 
as told by mere favored ones; while these latter, now 
debarred from former privileges, seek a measurable renew- 
ing of them through the medium of the pen. So, without 
further prologue, I will enter on the part assigned me, with 
this pleasure, that my theme is one of the finest animals of 
the chase, or of our continent. 

Although, as I said, I do not suppose it is minutely 
technical description that is looked for from us, yet it is 
proper that the animal should be fairly set before the 
reader before entering on details and incidents of its pur- 
suit. This can not be done better than in the words of 
Judge Caton, who has both hunted the Mule Deer in his 
native haunts:and raised him in his noble park in Illinois. 
Judge Caton says: 


This Deer was first discovered by Lewis and Clarke, on September 18, 
1804, in latitude 42°, on the Missouri River, who then called it ‘‘ Black-tailed 
(137) 


— 


138 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


Deer.” By this name they often mention it, until May 31, 1805, after they 
had discovered the Columbia Black-tailed Deer, when Captain Clarke, on 
enumerating the animals found on the Columbia River below the falls, calls it - 
the Mule Deer. By that name they ever after identify it, except in a single 
instance. On their return, in 1806, near where they first met it they cap- 
tured their last specimen, and called it Mule Deer. In the Rocky Mountains, 
where the true Black-tailed Deer is not known, it is still called the Black- 
tailed Deer. On the Pacific Coast, where it ranges with the Columbia Black- 
tailed Deer, it is known by its true name, Mule Deer, by which designation it 
is also recognized by naturalists. The original habitat of this Deer has not 
been very much restricted since its first discovery, though it has deserted or 
become scarce on the Missouri River und other hunted localities where the 
white man has too much disturbed its seclusion. Its most fiatural home is in 
the mountains; but it is found on the great plains, hundreds of miles east of 
them, where it most affects the broken and arboreous borders of the streams. 

West of the Rocky Mountains, this species of Deer is met with almost 
everywhere. In the Coast Range, north of San Francisco, it is almost entirely 
replaced by the Columbia River Black-tailed Deer, and south of that point 
this variety entirely gives place to the California variety. In Oregon, Wash- 
ington, and in British Columbia, the Mule Deer is met with, but not so abun- 
dantly as in the mountains farther east. 

In the face of civilization, they maintain their ground better than the 
Wapiti Deer. In flight, they do not run like the common Deer, but bound 
along, all the feet leaving and striking the ground together. For a short 
distance the flight is rapid, but soon seems to weary. Once,-when sitting on a 
crag on the Rocky Mountains ten thousand feet above the sea, I watched one, 
which had been started by a companion, as he bounded through the valley a 
thousand feet below. In a run of half a mile, he showed evident fatigue. 
That the labor of such a motion is greater than that of the long, graceful 
leaps of the common Deer, must be manifest to all who observe them. 

Their limbs are larger and coarser than those of the common Deer, and 
they are less agile and elastic in their motions, and are less graceful in form. 


- Their large, disproportioned ears are their most ugly feature, and give tone to 


the whole figure. 

The summer coat is a pale, dull yellow. Toward fall, this is replaced 
by a fine, short, black coat, which rapidly fades to gray. As the season 
advances, the hairs of the winter coat grow larger, and so become more dense, 
as well as of a lighter color. Usually, in the forehead is a dark, bent line 
in the form of a horseshoe, with the toe downward. The brisket and belly 
are black, growing lighter toward the umbilicus; thence, posteriorly, a still 
lighter shade prevails, till, at the inguinal region, a dull white prevails. 
Between the thighs it is quite white, widening toward the tail. This white 
portion extends to one inch above the tail, where it is six inches broad. Lower - 
down, it is eight inches broad, and lower still, between the legs, it contracts 
to four inches in breadth. Viewed posteriorly, this white patch is a conspicu- 
ous object. Below the knees and elbows, the legs are of a uniform dark cin- 
namon color. 


THE MULE DEER. 139 


Thus much for the Deer himself; now for the getting 
him—a very different thing! 

In a wild, lonely nook of the Blue Mountains of Oregon, 
_ between the west and south forks of Burnt River, lies our 
camp for a fall hunt—for recreation from a hard caeutipr & 
work, and for meat to stretch out the beef for the winter. 
It is October. In that altitude of five thousand feet above 
the sea-level, and in an almost rainless climate, the air, 
under a cloudless sun at midday, is cool and bracing; and 
the sun once down, the cold requires a good winter fire for 
the night. I have lived many years—more than thrée- 
score—and I have never known greater physical and mental 
enjoyment combined than at just such a camp-fire, in just 
such a solitude, with just such a company—all fond of the 
woods, of the rifle, of the hunt for Deer. The summer’s 
work had been a most toilsome one, putting up hay to 
carry the stock of the ranch through the winter, and getting 
everything in order for the near approach of that season. 
And now the work of the long, weary, wearing months 
could be thrown aside; care could be given to the winds for 
ten days or a fortnight, and the keen pleasure of seeking 
the wary Deer in the midst of his haunts, and glinting 
over the brown barrel at the noble game, could be enjoyed 
to the full. 

And noble game it is; for it is the Mule Deer of Oregon 
and Washington—next to the Elk and the Moose, the 
largest and finest of our American Cervide. We were 
camped in the midst of a region he peculiarly loves—near 
the foot-hills that slope upward from the forks of the river 
to ridges and mountains covered with pine, fir, laurel, 
mountain mahogany, grease-wood, from all of which he 
crops his fare, and in the midst of which he seeks the places 
of his rest and his hiding—always with possibilities of 
meeting the lordly Elk, which, even at this season, and 
earlier, comes down from his far mountain haunts for the 
alkali-springs that are found here and there along all these 
mountain streams. And this wild tract stretches away a 
hundred miles to the west, an unbroken wilderness of forest, 


140 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


ridge, and mountain, where one may go the whole distance 
to the John Day country without meeting face or dwelling 
of humankind; so that there was force in the caution, as 
we started out, ‘‘If you get lost, go east!” 

My hunting companion was my oldest son—six feet and 
an inch in his stockings; with dark hair and eyes, a manly 
face and form—a powerful man; withal, a good shot and an 
unusually fine hunter, always the reliance of the ranch for 
_ meat when no one else could secure it. And, best of all, 
to.me a warm-hearted, generous, loving son, who was 
delighted to have his father with him after a seclusion from 
all he loved for five long years. 

We hunt together to-day. He has with him his favorite 
Deer-dog, a cross of the Hound and the Pointer. | havemy 
beautiful Irish Setter, equally at home with Elk and Deer) 
as with the grouse on the foot-hills and in the meadows 
below; but in manner of hunting wholly another animal— 
a changed dog, as may be accomplished with any good 
Setter in three days’ time. And so, the drowsiness of the 
night shaken off, our coffee and breakfast over, just as the 
sun is rising over the far foot-hills of the east, we grasp our 
good rifles, wish good luck to our companions, and start for 
the ridges and mountains west of us. It would be difficult 
to convey to one unused to life of this kind, in the open air 
and in woods and hills, and not fond of the rifle and its 
uses, the sense of exhilaration, the springiness of step, the 
thrill of gladness through the whole system, that are- 
inspired by life, for a time, in wild and sublime scenes like 
these; especially, when added to all of ordinary forest free- 
dom is the bracing quality of a rainless atmosphere and a 
cloudless sky, at an elevation of five thousand feet above 
the sea. Movement itself becomes pleasure; to climb a 
steep hill-side or thread your way along a steep ridge has 
no fatigue, while the intense and solemn stillness of the 
primeval forest, far from the sound and haunts of men, 
with the sense of entire physical freedom from care and 
to go where you will coming in sharp contrast with the 
confinement of daily life through the rest of the year, com- 


THE MULE DEER. | 141 


~ 


bine to make all a simple ecstasy for a lover of Nature and 
of the hunt. : | 

To one not fond of these, to stay at home and saw wood 
_ would be preferable. I have actually been out amid the 
grandest scenes, in the most glorious weather, and where 
every breath and every sight was an inspiration, with men 
who were glad to get back to their saw and their wood, or 
their equivalents. 

All right! Won cuivis omnia! Were all of the same 
mind, the wilderness world would be speedily overrun, and 
plain and forest and mountain be stripped of their game 
more rapidly even than they are now being stripped by the 
foreign butcher and the skin-hunter—men whom I always 
class together in my mind. 

Added to all other stimulants of the scenes I was mov- 
ing in, was the unquenched and unquenchable tenderness 
for the noble boy who led the way before me; tall, powerful, 
manly; his face browned by exposure to almost the hue of 
his rich brown hair, and his dark, hazel eye beaming with 
affection for the father for whom he had planned this very 
hunt a year ago, and when he was two thousand miles 
away. He paused now, as we were entering the thickets 
of mingled laurel, grease-wood, and mountain mahogany 
which partially filled the spaces between the boles of the - 
fir and pine. 

‘‘ Now, father, we are on the ground, and liable to see a 
Deer anywhere. This is mostly new ground to me, for I 
never hunted on it but once, and it is a bad country to get 
lost in. I wish that you would keep near me to-day, 
and don’t make me look for you, for I shall want all my 
eyes for the Deer. If we both see the Deer, I want you to 
shoot, for you are a better shot than I am, while I know 
best where to look for the game. But don’t get away from 
me, for it is so easy here to get lost.” 

He is really a fine shot himself; but he-spoke from a 
traditional feeling as to my use of the rifle when he was 
at an age that he could not lift one. We passed on, Ia few 
rods to one side of and behind him, and soon were in that 


142 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


absorbed noiselessness that all Deer-hunters will under- 
stand, where to break a twig or step on a brittle stick gives 
one a twinge as for a guilty thing. 

We had gone sideling up a high ridge, on the very 
brow of which rose a single massive rock, fifteen or twenty 
feet in height. We were nearing it slowly, within a hun- 
dred yards, when out from behind it stepped a noble doe. 
She moved on to a little mound or hillock, and there stood 
motionless as her eye caught us. It was a sight I shall 
never forget, and shall never see again. Below and beyond 
her the ridge pitched steeply down, so that her entire form 
stood outlined above the horizon against the clear, blue sky. 
She stood as if for a picture, as, indeed, she was in herself. 
In a life of sixty years, and in pursuit of game under all 
conditions, animated nature has never presented to my 
sight anything so beautiful. 

She stood slightly quartering to us, visible from her 
great nine-inch ears to her very hoofs. My son barely 
turned his head, and whispered: 

‘** Do you see that? ”’ 

But my rifle was at my shoulder, and, as he spoke, I 
fired. The Deer gave a wheel backward, and went out of 
sight. This was bad. I had been perfectly steady; my rifle 
was perfectly sighted for just that distance, and she ought 
to have fallen in her tracks. 

I felt crestfallen. As we walked slowly up, my son said: 

‘* Father, where did you aim?”’ . 

I said: ‘‘At the big, round, whitish spot on her left 
breast; for the bullet would pass through the heart and out 
on the other side.”’ 

_ With much chagrin, he said: 

_“T should think an old hunter, as you are, would have 
known enough to aim at the point of the shoulder. Then 
if your ball had dropped six inches, you would still have 
got her; but’now, if you dropped four inches, it went 
below her brisket, and you have missed her altogether.”’ 

‘*But,’’ I said, ‘‘at that distance I didn’t mean to have 
my ball drop four inches.”’ 


- THE MULE DEER. 143 


This brought us to the mound, and there, behind it, lay 
the Deer, dead, ina posture as striking as that in which she 
stood sharply defined against the sky. The revulsion of 
feeling from chagrin to gratification was almost painful. 
My son bled her, and we then looked upon her as she lay. 
Head, neck, and form were in just such position as she 
might have been in sleeping on her side, while her strong, 


- einnamon-colored legs were disposed at full length, as if 


arranged by hand. Her coat had passed from the blackish 
shade which it takes on after the yellowish summer dress 
into the steel-mixed, with its satin sheen of the full winter 
coat. Down her throat was the deep-black band that 
marks the species, while breast and belly were of broader 
and deeper black still, till shading into the pure white 
between the thighs and up on both sides to two inches 
above the tail. We walked around her in silent admiration. 

‘Well, father, I have hunted these Deer for five years 
now, and that is the handsomest one I ever saw, and you 
will never shoot such another. She is one of the oldest 
does—probably eight or ten years old—and in perfect condi- 
_ tion. She will weigh near three hundred as she lies there.”’ 
Then he said, ‘‘ Now, let us see where you hit her.”’ 

The ball had struck the round spot of the breast directly 
in the center; had passed between the shoulders, through 
the heart, and out on the other side. 

“Well,” he said, ‘‘that is close shooting! I can’t shoot 
like that! But don’t you see, father, if you had gone four 
inches lower you would have missed her altogether?”’ 

‘‘ Bates,’ I said, ‘‘you remind me of a harum-scarum 
fellow that went from a Massachusetts town into Washing- 
-ton’s army, in the Revolution. He was brought back for 
treatment, his head furrowed by a British bullet, but the 
skull not fractured. The minister of the town, meeting 
him one day, thought it would be a proper occasion for a 
lesson. He said, solemnly: ‘Isaac, did you know that if 
that bullet had gone an inch lower you would have been 
in eternity?’ ‘ Ye-e-s,’ said Ike; ‘and if the d-d-darned 
thing had g-g-gone an inch higher, it wouldn’t have h-i-i-it 


144 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


me at all!’ Ike’s ‘if’ was as good as the dominie’s, and it 
was a fair reply.”’ 

‘*Oh, yes,’’ said Bates, ‘‘ you'll always have your story; 
now we’ll cut up the Deer.”’ 

The truth was, he was right; the point of the shoulder 
is always the shot fora Deer. The shoulder on both sides 
is broken, the lungs and spine are penetrated, and the ani-— 
mal goes down at once. But then, he was my boy, and it 
wouldn’t do to give in. As Mr. Bagnet says, ‘‘ Discipline 
must be maintained.”’ , 

We drew the fine animal, put her on the mound for 
notice when coming in with the horse, and resumed our 
hunt in good heart over the good omen for the day. 

We now kept along the northern side of the ridge, the 
southern being steep and quite bare, while our own side 
was a long slope, and covered with all the woods that give 
food and shelter to Deer. We had gone, perhaps, half a 
mile, and were some four rods apart, my son just then 
hidden in some thickets of mountain mahogany, when right 
ahead of him a hundred yards I saw a fine Deer walking 
rapidly down the hill-side. I drew up my rifle, but it was 
passing four or five huge pines, and no sooner would I get 
my sight to bear than a huge tree-trunk would come between 
me and the game. I waited till it had passed the last tree, 
and fired for the shoulder. It went heavily to the ground, 
and floundered around as Deer always do when struck i in 
the shoulder. Bates said, in a low tone: 

“What now?”’ 

‘‘[Tve got one, yonder,”’ said I. . 

When up from the hill-side, directly beyond my son 
and over his head, sprang my Deer as lively as ever. I 
fired again, and brought it down. As will sometimes hap- 
pen, I could see distinctly the whitish parting of the hair 
as the bullet struck the side. 

At that moment a Deer sprang up directly in front of 
Bates, and not twenty feet away. He was taken by sur- 
prise, fired a snap-shot, and missed. It came whirling 
toward me, directly in my face, with the big Deer-dog close 


THE MULE DEER. 145 


at its heels. If I had not moved, I think it would have 
jumped directly on me, or over me; but seeing me as I 
raised my rifle, it swerved to one side, and swept past me 
like the wind. I waited to get the motion, and at the 
third jump pulled for the flank toward me. It is four 
years since, but I can see as distinctly as at the time the 
bead on the flank as I pulled. But, alas! I had thrown out 
the old cartridge without throwing in a new one, and all the 
answer to the trigger was a dull, sickening snap! I had. not 
yet become used to the mechanism of the new rifle, and in 
my haste made the error. The Deer went on his way, and 
I will venture to say lay down in his lair that night the 
worst-scared Deer in the mountains—what with men, dogs, 
guns, all coming on him at once in his afternoon nap. 

We went up to my Deer on the hill-side, and found it 
a fine large doe. I may here say, in explanation of the 
number of does killed, that this was just before rutting- 
time, when the does, yearlings, and fawns keep by them- 
selves and out of the way to avoid the bucks, who are 
already seeking them. At the same time, they are in their 
finest condition for meat of any time in the year. We had 
bled and drawn her, and were resting after our lunch. The 
big boy looked pleased, and spoke of our good fortune of 
the first day, and, with his own big heart and big nature, 
was so glad the luck of the day had fallen to me. 

‘* But say, father, that was a fine shot at the other doe, 
for a man that hadn’t seen a Deer in the woods for eighteen 
years.”’ 

**Oh,”’ I said, ‘‘long before you were born I had my turn 
of buck-fever at my first Deer, and fired my rifle off into the 
top of a big hickory. It was my vaccination, and I never 
had it since. But then, Bates, about the shot; if J had 
dropped four inches I would have missed her, you know!”’ 

He laughed, ‘‘Oh, that’s all right! you didn’t happen to 
drop! ”’ 

I looked at the Deer before us. A thought struck ime. 

‘** Bates, this isn’t the Deer I shot at first, at all. This is 
at least a three- year-old doe, and that was a yearling.” 


146 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


“‘Well, that would be luck,” said he; ‘‘can you tell 


_where you shot at it?”’ 

‘Of course; just beyond the last of those big pines.’? We 
went at once, and there lay my yearling, stone-dead. 

- ‘Well, this 7s luck! Now, father, I understand why 
your gun snapped on that other Deer. You were electedto 
miss it, for if you had killed these three Deer in three 
shots, and all in motion, the wagon wouldn't have held you : 
down going home!”’ 

» So we had our laugh again, and bled and drew our Deer. 
Bates cast his eye up at the declining sun, for it was now 
afternoon. 

“Father, Pll have just time to go to camp, get the 
horses, and get the Deer home before dark.”’ 

It was a thing as much beyond me as to pull up one of 
those pines and stand it on its top; but he is perfect in all 
that pertains to horses and woodcraft, and as he drew his 
belt a hole tighter, threw his rifle over his shoulder, caught 
up old Tige’s leash, and struck off in an entirely different 
line from that by which we had come, I followed on, with 
as little sense and as little hand in the matter as he had 
when I rocked him in his cradle. 

Over foot-hills, down gulches, across ridges, a half-hour’s 
sturdy tramp, and we paused. 

‘‘TDo you know where you are?”’ said he, 

And there before me was the camp; the horses at their 
pickets in the bunch grass; the wagon in its place as we 
left it, and our mornizig fire smoldering, with just enough 
smoke to give it a human look and make one feel at home. 
We saddled the two cattle-horses; hung the lariats and 
lash-ropes in their places; he mounted one and led the 
other, and was soon out of sight. It was two good miles to 
our first doe, and he told me that he struck the place within 
ten rods; he loaded her on Jack, followed the ridge to the 

~ other two, loaded them on George, and just at dusk his 


tall, manly form appeared again from the woods, afoot him- | . 


self, and leading the horses with the game, seemingly as 
fresh as when he started in the morning. Such is the vigor 


THE RESULT. 


Po ae en — a ee ee ee ee 


THE MULE DEER. 147 


that life in these hills and in that dry, matchless climate 
gives to the men who live there. 

Meanwhile, I had not been idle. We had brought the 
livers of the Deer; and by the time the horses were unloaded 
and at their pickets again, the coffee, potatoes, bread, onions, 
liver with bacon, were set, all smoking-hot, before him. 

The dark eyes glistened, the great, brown face flushed, as 
she sight struck one sense and the odor another, and all, 
the stomach. He sat down, removed his hat, bent his head 
in reverence to the higher Father, and said: 

_ “The word of thanks, father, and I am ready!” 

It was body and soul working together, and every incha 
man! A fellow-ranchman came to his cabin one day, and said: 

‘*Mr. C——, my old mother is dead. She was a Christian 
woman, and I don’t want to put her in the ground like the 
cattle we bury. There isn’t a minister within thirty miles. 
Your father was a minister; you have taught our Sabbath- 
school. Would you come and say a word over my 
mother?”’ 

It was a new experience, and the big boy thought a 
moment. 

‘** Whitehead, I never did anything of the kind; but if 
it was my mother—and I have got one whom I worship—I 
should feel as youdo. Your mother shan’t be buried like 
adog. Ill come.’’ And he went. As he wrote me after- 
ward, ‘‘I recalled the words I had so often heard you pro- 
nounce over the dead. Allalone, I read a passage of Script- 
ure, sang a verse of a hymn, said a short prayer, said the 
‘dust to dust,’ and all was over. It was a tight place, 
father; all the men and women of the valley were there; but 
I thought of mother, and it carried me through.”’ 

A rough young ranchman said to him, one day: ° 

‘* Bates, we notice that you will take part with us in our 
sports up to a certain point, and then you stop. We won- 
der why.”’ 

‘Jerry, when I left my home, I made up my mind to go 
nowhere and take part in nothing that would displease my 
mother.”’ . 


148 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


The reader will pardon this digression; but that was the 
kind of boy God had given me, and that was my companion 


for this hunt in the mountains. In camp or in cabin,no. _ 


meal without the word of thanks to the Giver. 

‘*Father, have you got the coffee-pot full? Iam dried 
up like paper, and I’m hollow to the knees! ”’ 

I knew whom I was purveying for, and what had been the 
draught of the day on that sturdy frame. Indeed, I had 
only to judge by my own measure, and double it for his. 
There was something of all the dishes left when, after an 
hour of untiring application, he leaned back, laid down his 
knife and fork, wiped his lips, and said: 

‘¢ Well, I must call a halt, or I shall be as bad as old 
Tige when he had filled up on the first Deer’s inwards. He 
looked like a gyp, and near her time!”’ 

This is the restorative power of the woods. The pure, 
clear air; the wild, grand scenery; the manly tramp, with 
the eager expectancy of the hunter every moment; every 
physical power drawn on, and then all physical waste 
repaired by the appetite that would seem gluttony at home; 
then the profound, dreamless sleep of the tired frame in the 
hemlock-boughs; the flickering flame of the camp-fire; the 
sighing of winds through the pines; the weird sounds and 
shadows of the woods—all soothing the nerves, relaxing the 
- muscles, and leading the mind into that state which the 
ancients beautifully made the province of the twin-brother 
of death; but with a daily resurrection to restored powers, 
instead of the final one to an endless, immortal, unwearied 
state. 

The dawning of the following morning found us in our 
woods again, wholly restored from the fatigue of the preced- 
ing day, and eager to follow up our yesterday’s success by 
another like it. It was to be Bates’ day to-day. While 
the light was yet dim, and a slight mist hung over the 
ground, I saw, at a good, fair distance from me, a doe 
feeding from a laurel-bush. Her head was down in the 
center of the bush, her whole body outside, and per- 
fectly defined. I counted her as good asin my hand, and 


THE MULE DEER. 149 


aiming for the shoulder, fired. When the smoke that hung 
on the damp morning air had cleared, no Deer was to be 
seen. Yesterday's experience had made me overweening, 
and I went forward very confident of finding her stretched 
out within a reasonable distance. I did not find her stretched 
out at any distance, and sending old Tige on her trail, his 
speedy return revealed no blood drawn, and a clean and 
palpable miss. 

All riflemen have these unaccountable misses in recollec- 
tion. A defective bullet, a stray twig deflecting, dim light, 
a failure of eye and finger to work together, a raising or 
depressing the gun as the trigger is pulled—some con- 
scious or unconscious cause lies at the bottom of misses, 
where five out of six shots, all day long, would be fatal. I 
ascribed mine to the dim light. Past three-score, and shoot- 
ing with the naked eye, the chill morning air making the 
eye water—perhaps making the finger numb—something of 
this kind probably was at the bottom of my erring shot. I 
was sorry; somewhat mortified, and somewhat chastened, 
too, under the reflection that the day before I had been 
utterly unsatisfied with the two Deer I killed because I 
failed to kill the third. 

Nature has her revenges. And Nature is a personal, 
intelligent, kindly father, correcting our pride and rebuk- 
ing our ingratitude. Even in the mountains, and on a hunt, 
we may learn this. . 

We went on. Suddenly, thump! thump! thump! went 
a Deer up a steep acclivity before us, but too thickly cov- 
ered to allow us to see him. Now was my son’s oppor- 
tunity. With bounds like that of the Deer himself, he 
sprang forward, and caught sight of the Deer looking back 
for the cause of alarm, as is their wont, often. He threw 
his Burgess to his shoulder and fired. 

Loosing Tige from, the leash, he let him free, and the 
noble dog was up the hill in a moment, and out of sight. 
We followed, breathless, and just at the summit found the 
dog lying by the side of the dead Deer, awaiting our com- 
ing. It was a fine, manly feat, that rush up the hill-side; 


150 _ BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


and it was a perfect shot, with heaving breath and quiver- 
ing pulse, to send a bullet directly through the Deer’s most 
vital part. My boy does not praise himself much, but I 
could not withhold mine. 

The Deer bled and drawn, and dragged to a conspicuous 
place, we made ready to pursue our hunt. 

Here let me pause to notice the thumping jump of this 
variety of Deer. Mr. Van Dyke and Judge Caton have both 
-called attention to it. Instead of the long, swinging leap 
of the common Deer, they make jumps in which all their 
legs seem to come down together, and stiffened at the joints. 
I think this can be accounted for by their habitat—the 
scenes where Nature designed they should live. This is an 
utterly broken, often precipitous, country, where Nature 
seems to have shown as much abhorrence of a piece of level 
ground as she is said to have of a vacuum. It is hardly an 
exaggeration to say that, in whole square miles of the wild, 
broken, volcanic region inhabited by the Mule Deer, one 
can not find a single half-acre of level ground—hardly a 
square rod. Steep hills, precipitous ridges and ledges, with 
a crumbling voleanic débris under foot at every step, it is 
plain that an animal like our Deer finds a much surer foot- 
ing in a jumping, pounding gait, than in the free, clear 
run with which the Virginia Deer wings its course over the 
level prairies or through the level forests. Nature is a 
kindly mother, and she gives no gift without a meaning, no 
distinction without its use. Would that we could feel it 


for ourselves! 
Spirits are not finely touched 
But to fine issues; nor Nature never lends 
The smallest scruple of her excellence; 
But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines 
Herself the glory of a creditor, 
Both thanks and use. 


Bates is in his element to-day, and shines in swift, pow- 
erful motion, and asa snap-shot. Here I take a back seat, 
and am quite content. It is meat we are after, as the main 
thing, and it matters little to which rifle it falls. The dif- 
fering gifts are telling in the main end. 


THE MULE DEER. 151 


An hour more of slow, careful search, and no result; 
when suddenly Tige strains on his leash; Dash draws ahead, 
and stands a-point. Bates whispers: 

‘¢There’s a Deer within twenty feet of us.” 

It bounds from our very side; rushes down a Deer-path 
for the woods below. I raise my rifle to fire when it shall 
clear some large tree-trunks, when Bates throws up his 
Burgess, fires a clear snap-shot, and the Deer goes head- 
long down the hill-side, with a broken neck. It was 
splendidly done. 

**Yes,”’ said he; ‘‘but it was a snap-shot; I bad no 
aim.”’ 

**So much the battens my boy! A rifle leveled as accu- 
rately as that, without aim, at an animal on the jump, is a 
better shot than the best standing-shot can possibly be.”’ 

The Deer proved a fine two-year-old buck, in perfect 
condition, and it made us glad. 

It was now about two o’clock in the afternoon, and Bates 
said: 

‘* We are about three miles from camp; suppose we make 
a hunt that way, and I can get the horses, and get the meat 
to camp before dark.”’ 

We met nothing on the way; and he repeated the trip of 
yesterday, and I repeated the supper, over which we were 
both as glad as before. 

The next morning, as we started out, Bates said: 

‘**T don’t like the appearance of the sky this morning. It 
looks as if there was going to be a fog, and that is no joke, 
in these mountains. All peaks and headlands are obscured, 
which are our guides at other times. The sun is hidden 
entirely, and for a hundred miles every place is like every 
other place, and a man is as safe to camp and remain still 
as to stir a step —safer, ordinarily—only they may hold for 
two or three days. But we will hunt, the forenoon, and be . 
on the watch for the mist.” 

We were going on new ground, up a high, sloping ridge 
that seemed to reach to the mountains beyond. We sep- 
arated, for once, to.come together higher up, a mile farther 


152 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


on. A half-hour of careful walking, for signs were plenty, 
and I came on a track crossing mine, that, at first, I thought 
was an Elk’s; but I saw, on inspection, it was a buck’s of 
the largest size. At the same time, Dash drew on from 
behind me, lifted his nose in the air, and began his cat-like 
creep that always told of game near by. I knew I was 


mana por yest 
pee 3 % 


A Portrait. 


directly on the buck, but could see him nowhere. It was 
now literally crawling with dog and man, when Dash sud- 
denly came to a stand-still, with nothing in sight, though 
an absolute certainty of the game being within half-rifle- 
shot of me. The tension of feeling was now almost painful. 
I left Dash on his point, turned slowly around an immense 
laurel-bush which hid a front view, and the mighty game 
was before me. He was lying down in a body of grass, and 


THE MULE DEER. 153 


we saw each other at the same moment. Had it been a doe 
or a yearling, it would have sprung from its bed in an 
instant; but an old buck, either from a spirit of indolence 
or defiance, will often wait to take a steady look, which 
seals hisdoom. Raising my rifle slowly in another direc- 
tion, then swinging it swiftly sidewise, I fired through the 
grass, at the point of his shoulder. He never rose. He 
rolled on his side, and when I came up—and it was not six 
rods off—his tongue was out, and his eye was glazing in 
death. He made one faint effort to reach me with his great 
horns, fell back, and died. 

He was a trophy indeed—six or eight years old by his 
antlers, in perfect condition, as rutting-time had scarcely 
begun, and yet his neck showed signs of the coming time. 
As I should judge, in averaging with the common Deer, he 
was from a fourth to a fifth larger than the largest of that 
variety. I was shooting, in those days, a 100-grain Sharp’s - 
shell, 405 of lead, and I do not remember ever finding the 
ball in a Deer’s body. This shot had broken both shoul- 
ders, the heavy spinal process between them, had pene- 
trated that part of the lungs lying there, and had gone out 
at the other side as clear as it had entered at the first. Itis 
the most deadly cartridge I have ever found, for a rifle. 

Here was a job for me! It was like tackling a steer ina 
butcher’s shop, and is really the butcher’s part in hunting. 
My son was out of sight, and I must do it for myself. 
I knew how, but I always let a comrade do it when I 
could, rendering such incidental help as I might; but now 
there’s no help for it. Rolling my sleeves up to my 
shoulders, I plunged in; and when twenty minutes had 
elapsed, and I looked at myself, with my job completed, I 
seemed to myself like a genuine man of the shambles. This 
_is the really unpleasant part of Deer-hunting; but it would 
not be of earthly nature if it had not its drawbacks. 

Stuffing boughs between the thighs to keep out the mag- 
pies, and tying my handkerchief to the horns to keep off 
the coyotes, I rubbed off my stained arms to the shoulders 
as best I could (for 1 was fifteen hundred feet above any 


154 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA. 


water), rolled down my sleeves, took up my rifle, and 
resumed my hunt; Dash falling again to heel, his head 
always just far enough ahead of my leg to clear my scent, 

and so he would go all day long. 

I had gone, perhaps, half a mile, when I caught a 
glimpse of white passing rapidly into some bushes. I ran 
ahead, and through the thicket saw the form of a Deer 
walking rapidly. I threw up my rifle and fired, but the 
brush plainly turned the bullet; for the Deer, a noble doe, 
broke through the bushes, ran directly toward me, and 
stood looking every way for the quarter the noise had come 
from. Her form was crouched, her legs were bent, ready 
to spring; I had barely time to sight up to her brisket and 
fire. She made a few great lunges, and fell dead, not a rod 
from me. A fine fawn rushed after and past her. I hastened 
on his trail, and he stood looking back. It was somewhat 
pitiful, but the dam was dead, it was so much meat, and | . 
took him in with a broken neck, not to spoil his flesh. 

At the shots, my son gave a whoop, which I answered, 
and he came bounding toward me with every sign of alarm. 

‘Father, the mist is coming, and before we can get these 
Deer prepared, it will be so thick about us that we can not 
see ten rods. The sun is hidden already, and we have no 
compasses with us. Hurry!”’ 

And hurry we did. We drew the Deer across a log for 
recognition, and started just short of a run. Before we — 
reached my buck, the mist had come rolling down the 
mountain-side, obscuring everything at two rods’ distance, 
and turning the day to night. 

Bates is a brave boy, but now he was alarmed. We had 
entered a thick growth of black fir, where we had to force 
our way, and where every landmark was lost, and we could 
not tell the direction in which we were going. Bates 
stopped, leaned on his gun, and, in a most serious tone, 
said: 

‘Father, we are in a bad fix. All depends, now, on my 
keeping my head level, or we may have to stay out days 
and nights. Please don’t give me any counsel, or object to 


THE MULE DEER. 155 


anything I say or do, for it would confuse me, and then we 
are lost indeed. I will do my best, but there was never 
greater need.”’ 

I can see him now, his tall form drawn up, his features 
working with agitation, and his hunter's eye unsettled 
and wavering, instead of fixed in an intensity which often 
gave him actual pain for days after a hunt. I said: 

‘*Bates, before I take up silence, let me say this: We 
are now on an ascent, though very gradual; by keeping up 
it as long as it continues, it must bring us to some ridge- 
crest or hill-top, which is our only chance for an outlook if 
the fog should break a little.”’ 

‘**Tt is a good thought,”’ said he, ‘‘and may save us.”’ 

We worked out of the firs slowly, up into clearer ground; 
up still higher, into huge rocks which told of a summit 
near; then to the summit itself. No hunting now. Elk, 
Deer, Bear, might have freely crossed our track un- 
scathed. _We were busied about ourselves. No outlook, 
even from the stimmit we had attained; all was enveloped 
in fog as thick as night, although it was barely noon. 
Bates said: 

‘*T will climb that fir; perhaps I can see from above.’ 

Sixty feet he went up the dark, rough trunk, and clung 
among the branches. No outlook still. 

*** Bates, may I speak ¢”’ 

‘* Yes, father, for Iam all at sea!” 

I never before or since heard him speak in the tone in 
which these words came down to me. 

‘Well, just beyond the top of the fir you are in is 
the faintest show of more light in the fog than elsewhere. 
If so, that is the sun, and that is south, for it is noon.”’ 

Then,” he said, pointing his finger, ‘‘that is east, and 
there is ourcamp. Now, don’t lose the direction till I get 
- down, for I can’t keep it up here.”’ 

He came down; I gave him the direction—it was all our 
hope. By keeping near objects directly ahead of us, and 
moving carefully from one to another, an hour brought us to 
a black cattle-horse standing at his stake, with head droop- 


156 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


ing, and body dripping with the rain-like mist. He gavea 
faint neigh, and my son exclaimed: 

‘‘Father, it’s Jack! It’s dear old Jack, and we are safe 
home! ”’ 

Then, grasping my hand, he said: 

‘*Father, God bless you! you didn’t bother me to-day !”’ 

To show how serious the matter was, the other two of 
our company got lost, and wandered off west; after laying 
out all night, they fell in with some Indians, who fed them 
and set themright. They had to travel forty miles, to reach 
the ranch and cabin that day. 

We had now all the meat we could carry. We were 
anxious above measure for our lost comrades; so, as the 
mist gave way next morning, after securing our buck, doe, 
and fawn from the hills, we started home. Our suspense 
was breathless as we neared the cabin and looked for some 
sign of occupancy. My son’s partner opened the door, and 
Bates exclaimed: ~ 

‘‘Oh, Porter, I was never so glad to see you before!” 

To show the force of Bates’ caution to me not to advise 
-him or debate with: him, Porter said his companion totally 
confused him with suggestions, doubts, opposition, till 
finally he had to take his own way, even if he left the other 
to die in the woods. 

The scene has changed. Another summer has gone; 
another November has come. My stalwart boy has gone 
East to get him a wife; his partner and the carpenters are 
building him a house, and I have undertaken to provide the 
meat with my rifle. And it is still with the Mule Deer that | 
we have todo. Of all the camps I have ever made, this was 
the most delightful, and has the most vivid and lasting 
remembrance. At the head of a great cafion running six 
miles down to the Burnt River Valley; my umbrella-tent 
pitched under a noble pine, around whose base swept the 
cold, clear mountain stream from which my water-supply 
for drinking and washing was derived; other pines in all 
directions, clothing the shallow valleys putting down into 


THE MULE DEER. 157 


this larger one; a great, fallen dry pine near my tent, fur- 
nishing me a back-log for a month, while abundance of 
dead branches and dry alder cover the ground; at the head, 
and beyond, other ravines—rare hunting-grounds, especially 
over the divide, where is an immense caiion, five hundred feet 
deep, and clothed on its rugged sides to the very top with 
all food that sustains the Deer; on all sides, over the small 
foot-hills, grew abundant bunch-grass for my horse, who 
could always be picketed in sight; clear, crisp, open 
weather—for weeks together, the autumn sun without a 
cloud. All that enters into the making a perfect camp and 
perfect sport existed there; and, in physical sense, life itself 
was a luxury, as the scene around and above was a glory. 

A ranchman friend, living in the valley at the end of my 
cafion, was my companion for a day, as he was my guide to 
the spot. It was four o’clock when we had pitched the 
tent, arranged horses and wood for the night. Reed cast 
his eye up at the sun: 

‘*Mr, C——, the sun is an hour high; we have time to 
kill a Deer before night. I have seen whole bands from the 
very spot where we stand.”’ 

It seemed incredible to me; the woods were so open, so 
park-like and civilized, that it seemed to me much as if one 
should say that we could find a Deer on a farm within sight 
of Chicago. I wassoon to be undeceived. 

‘*Now, you take that swale coming into this from the 
west, and I will take the one to the east, and we will be in 

‘camp by dusk.”’ 

Absolutely, I took up my rifle as if I were going to look 
for a Deer in a highway or ona farm. I was yet within 
sight of my tent; my friend had just passed out of sight. 
I let my rifle down from my shoulder, and began to think 
which way I should look for a Deer, when right before 
me, at a few hundred yards, stood, broadside to me and 
looking at me, the most princely buck I ever saw! He had 
just come down the ravine, probably with his nose to the 
ground on a doe’s track, for his head was but half-raised 
and turned sidewise to look at me. His massive, branch- 


158 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


ing antlers stood proudly out from his head, while his 
whole form was limned, as if by art, against the steep hill- 
side at the foot of which he stood. I could hardly trust my 
eyes; under all the circumstances, it actually seemed an 
illusion. I raised my rifle slowly, aimed for his heart, and 
fired. He made a wheel of twenty feet up the steep hill- 
side, and was out of sight. 

Could it be? At a hundred yards, dead- still, and miss 
an animal like that! And I felt like kicking myself, as [ 
went forward, to think I must fall into my old training of 
early life, and aim behind the shoulder, instead of for the 
shoulder itself, and dropping him where he stood. But 
there was blood where he wheeled, and hair, as if puffed 
out on the opposite side. Courage! it was not a miss, then; 
I may get him yet. I sent Dash on his trail. With arush 
he sprang up the hill-side, and when I had clambered up, 
he too was out of sight; Deer and dog both gone! Getting 
breath, I turned to the left, and there, in a little gully, lay 
dead my noble game, with my dog gnawing into his back, 
in his instinct to fetch! I have Elk-skins and Deer-skins 
which are thus marked and bare. 

The great doe was noble; but this is princely! No such 
creature, save a bull Elk, had ever fallen to my rifle. I 
bled him as he lay; then took him by the massive horns 
and slid him down the steep incline, to draw him at better 
advantage at the foot. The bullet had gone directly through 
his heart; he had used the one inhalation in his lungs, the 
one pulsation of his blood, for the burst up the hillock, 
then had rolled, dead, into the hollow. 

My friend, hearing: my shot, came up. He looked at the 
- mighty game in astonishment. 3 

‘*Mr. C——,”’ he said, ‘‘I have lived in this valley fifteen 
years, and that is the biggest Deer I have ever seen! He will 
weigh a good three hundred pounds when he is drawn.”’ 

We gralloched him, secured him for the night, and, sure 
enough, were back at the tent as the sun was dipping 
below the horizon. To this day, it seems to me as if I had 
shot a Deer in a street or a pasture. 


THE MULE DEER, 159 


By this animal, I saw that the antlers are no sure criterion 
of the age or size of a Deer. Those of this immense creature 
were comparatively small; I have killed bucks of not two- 
thirds his weight with much larger antlers. 

This was beginning our hunt in good fashion. We had 
liver for supper and breakfast; and there is no better meat 
to satisfy the appetite or to tramp on. Daylight saw us 
astir, and headed for the great ravine east of us. My 


ms ; Resting. 


friend preferred to walk along the brow; so I took a lower 
line, though having more uneven ground to get over, while 
he passed ‘all the ravines at their head. 

I was repaid. After about half a mile of toilsome up-and- 
down climbing, I heard Reed’s gun to my left. I rushed 
up the incline before me, just in time to see two fine year- 
lings at which he had shot, and which now stood looking 
at me. I fired for the shoulder of the largest; he made 
three or four violent plunges, and went headlong and dead 


160 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


against a large pine-log. The other passed out of sight. 
This was good. I bled and drew my Deer, laid him across 
a log, and started on a return hunt, and to get my horse to 
bring him in. : 

_ A couple of Antelope drew me out of the way, and it was 
afternoon before I got in, and just at the camp I met my 
friend, with my Deer and one of his own on his horse. He 
had shot a fine two-year-old buck, had come across mine | 
also, and brought them both in. Such things, dear reader, 
make a man feel good-natured. 

It was yet but four o’clock, and we laid out for a regu- 
lar meal. Reed was an adept at flap-jacks; I undertook the 
coffee, the tongue, the liver, the tenderloin, with Saratoga 
chips—and, above all, onions, for Reed said: 

‘*T can eat onions till I can’t see!” 

The dogs had had their surfeit in the hunt; and when we 
had mused before the waning fire till dusk set in, had gone 
over the pleasant incidents of the day, and other days, and 
when we were rolled in our blankets, there were two men — 
in that tent who had nothing to ask of anyone, and were at — 
‘peace with the world. 

Next morning we loaded our Deer on the two horses, and 
set out, afoot, for Reed’s home, where I was to deposit my © 
Deer for my son’s partner to carry along as he came with 
lumber from the mill. I was loath to go back to my tent 
alone that night, and did not. My friend and his good wife 
insisted on my staying over the night. Ididso. Putting — 
my shotgun together, I got half a dozen widgeon from the 
river—a rarity to them, for they keep nothing but a rifle. 
With many a tale of the great outside world, and music on 
the piccolo, I managed to make my entertainment not a 
burden. 

The forenoon of the next day saw me at my camp again, 
old George staked out in the bunch-grass, my lunch eaten, 
and the hunt for the day taken up; for it was meat, now, 
for four men and a woman, and I had undertaken to supply 
the larder. I felt the solitude a little at first, for Reed 
was a genial, intelligent man, and his company was pleasant. 


THE MULE DEER. 161 


This day was to show me the value of my dog. Almost 
every day—indeed, every day—the wind swept up the great 
east ravine, and over its brow. Instead of going along the 
brow, where I was at all times liable to be seen myself, I 
kept back a little, out of sight, and left all to the nose of 
my dog. He answered to the trust. He was the most 
beautiful dog I ever saw—of far-famed strain, with every 
instinct of the high-bred.Setter born in him. I never had to 
teach him either to stand or retrieve; he did both by virtue 
of his blood and birth. It was noon as I now skirted the 
ravine just back from its edge. The wind came.gently and 
freshly over the brow; the sun shone out brightly from the 
sky; the air was pure as the mountain stream beneath it, 
and motion itself was a pleasure. Allat once, Dash stepped 
out from me, raised his nose a moment, and stole toward 
the brow. There he stood, while I stepped beyond, and 
saw one of the sights that make a sportsman’s nerves tingle, 
and set all his blood aglow. 

About fifteen rods down the steep hill-side was a proces- 
sion, in line, of two does, a large buck, and two yearlings or | 
favwhs behind. None saw me, and I had time for a choice. 
From the buck’s neck, I saw that he was in his full run, 
and unfit for use. The does would be perfect. The two in 
front were walking rapidly, and I was waiting for them to 
pause, when, looking ahead, a much larger doe, and evi- 
dently the leader of the band, was standing, cropping grass. 
I swung my rifle ahead, and, in my old instinct and folly, 
fired low, for her heart. In an instant all was commotion. 
I fired again, without effect, when the whole band went out 
of sight. I went down for my doe. There was blood, there 
was hair, but no doe in sight. I followed in the line she was 
taking, but found no sign. I returned to the spot where 
she had stood, when I noticed the gentle face of Dash turned 
wistfully up to mine. 

_ ** Dash, where is she ?’’ 

With a bound, he sprang down the hill-side, and beyond 
him I saw my doe lying dead. She had made one vast 
spring of thirty feet down as the bullet struck her, and 

11 


162 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


fallen headlong and dead. It was a case of the heart again, 
for that organ was mere clotted blood when I came to draw 
her. It was again a fine animal, in perfect coat and condi- 
tion; and again I was glad. It was hunting, it was shoot- 
ing, it was meat; but, more than all, it was the fine work of 
my beautiful dog. I had time to go to camp for old George, 
to ride back for my Deer, to load it on and lead him to 
camp, before it was time for supper. It was again a satis- 
factory day; and I slept soundly over its success and its 
review. 

I had occasion here to notice again and _ particularly 
the stiff, thumping jumps peculiar to the Mule Deer, and 
marking him from his congener, the Virginia Deer, with its 
free, graceful, elastic lope. The old buck was of immense 
size and weight, and carried horns that would have been a 
trophy little short of those of a bull Elk. While the does 
and young Deer were bounding around in easy springs 
that soon took them outside, the lord of the band wheeled 
backward with a few pounding jumps; then back again to 
the same point; then, with the same stiffened and ungrace- 
ful action, down the hill-side and out of sight. I could 
have shot him repeatedly, but the great, swollen neck pro- 
claimed him in the midst of his season. I must sleep with 
myself at night, and could not do it in peace, thinking of 
the carcass of a great and noble animal shot merely for 
slaughter, and left, tainted already while living, to rot on 
the face of the hill. 

There is one subject connected with hunting, and the 
forest and mountain, the very thought of which makes the 
blood boil, and one’s whole better nature revolt in indig- 
nation. It is the wanton slaughter of our nobler game. 
For the paltriest pay, for no pay at all, in mere thirst for 
blood, in mere love of killing, the inbuman work has gone 
on, till Bison, Elk; Mountain Sheep, have gone down before 
the fell demon of greed and blood, and can only now be 
found in the loneliest, most inaccessible recesses of the 
mountains. The editor of the present work, in his ‘‘ Cruis- 
ings in the Cascades,’’ has given us a scene of this kind— 


THE MULE DEER. 163 


- 


the biped slaughterer and the’ prostrate victims—a whole 
~ band of Elk; and it stirs every better element of one’s 
nature to loathing for the.creatures who disgrace their kind. 

An instance occurs to me. I will give it in the words of 
the hunter who told it to me: : 

‘* Mr: C——, I have been a hunter in the mountains all 
my life, and have lived among rough men; but the hardest- 
hearted, the worst man I ever met, was an Englishman for 
whom I was guide and hunter in Western Colorado, a few 
years ago. He was full of money; had a splendid outfit of 
double-barreled rifles and shotguns, and all things needed 
for hunting, and had come clear from England to break the 
record on the greatest number of heads of game within a 
certain time. He hired me and three others to go with him, 
and we were all to play into his hands to kill all we could 
in a certain time. Iam ashamed to say how many Elk and 
Deer were killed and left, all to rot as they fell—not even 
bled or drawn. It was money to us, and plenty of it, and I 
was poor; but, as long as L-live, I shall feel that that Eng- 
lishman was more a devil than a man. He was the only 
man I ever knew, of all the rough class even in these mount- 
ains, that enjoyed giving pain; and I will say that, anyway, 
for the honor of the rest of us. One day he had shot a 
Mule doe through the hips, and she lay wallowing on the 
ground, and bleating with fear as we came up to her. The 
Englishman stood over her, and laughed aloud to see her 
fear and her pain. Then he shot her in different parts of 
her body where it would not kill her, and laughed and 
ha-ha'd to see her jump at the shot, and flounder and cry out 
with the new pain. At last the poor creature stretched out 
her legs full length, her eye glazed, and with a quiver over 
her whole body, she died. And he burst out again in 
laughter, and shouted, ‘This is the greatest sport yet!’ As 
sure as God made me, Mr. C——, I felt for a minute that 
the dead doe was the better creature of the two, and I felt 
almost ashamed that I was a man! ”’ 

Now, what penalty would be adequate for the deed of 
this butcher, this human fiend! Iam a minister, and have 


164 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


preached the Gospel for forty years; but I felt, as I heard 
the awful tale, that, laying law and Gospel aside—or, + 
rather, carrying both with me—I would have been glad to 
be one of a company to strip this creature of his arms, pile 
them-and him into his wagon, guard them to the nearest 
railway station, and start him East, with the assurance that 
if he showed himself in the mountains again, there would 
be one hunting-season, at least, in which he would not be 
fit to shoot game for the crows, nor laugh over the pains he 
had inflicted ona dying doe. I have since seen this state- 
ment in print; and Iam only sorry that the ruffian’s name 
could not have been secured and sent to the London Times 
and London “eld, to be posted over England;* for, after 
all, at the bottom, Englishmen are, as a class, humane, and 
love fair play for man and beast. 

Even a fair-minded man becomes vindictive over this 
thing, in spite of himself; so that, in reminiscences, a scene 
like the one referred to from ‘‘Coquina’s”’’ book stirs the 
blood, and wakens all the disgust and the anger over again. 
Hunting Mountain Sheep, one day we came on a skin- 
hunter’s cabin of the year before. There, lying in a fester- _ 
ing heap, were forty carcasses of this beautiful and rare 
animal, from which nothing but the pelt had been taken. 
I felt, on the moment, that if I should see a monarch ram 
butt the creature from a precipice, I should hardly feel 
regret that a human being had been killed. 

Laws! We make laws when the game is gone. We 
leave the laws to enforce themselves, as if they were sen- 
tient, active beings. We leave execution of the law to 
private complaint, where it may lose one his neighbor, or a 
vote at a coming election. I have lived to see my beautiful 
prairies of Iowa denuded of their grouse, for the accursed 
greed of Eastern game-dealers and the glutton maws of 
those they break laws for, and throw conscience, honor, 
citizenship, to the winds. I have lived to see the prairies 


*From the circumstances named, I am of the opinion that the butcher referred to hereis 
one Jamison. I have often heard of him before, from guides who have hunted with him, 
and have taken a great deal of satisfaction in exposing and denouncing his inhuman con- 
duct in the columns of the American Field.—Ep1Tor. 


THE MULE DEER. 165 


swept, as by a besom, of their countless Bison, in the face 
of law, and of the higher and sacred law stamped on all 
animate nature. I have lived to see the Elk driven from 
the Mississippi to the most remote and loneliest recesses of 
the mountains, and only saved in the Yellowstone Park by 
the United States Army! Of all civilized nations, we are 
the slowest to enact laws when our persons and pockets 
are not concerned. Of all civilized nations, we are the 
weakest to execute the laws we do make, when still our own 
persons or pockets are not touched. Our game laws are a 
mere empty form, and their execution is a farce ! 

Now, to return to the stiffened jumps and gait of the 
Mule Deer. That whole cafion-side, for five hundred feet 
down, was a steep slope of volcanic débris and sliding shale. 
To go down was a slide; to go up was a climb; and this 
answers fairly, as I have said before, for the face of the 
whole country. Can we not see that the stiffened jump of 
a Sheep ora Goat, that sets the feet firmly at every bound, 
is better for our Deer than the long, swinging leap that 
regards surface merely, and would leave the animal to con- | 
stant slipping and many a fall ? 

The next morning I was to have a picture again, and one 
which time and years do not efface. I was out early, at 
daylight; but a mileand a half along our cafion had brought 
no scent to my gentle companion, and so no need to look 
down into the deep, dark gulf which the daylight had not 
yet reached. The sun had just risen above the horizon, full, 
round, and red, and seemed three times his natural size, in 
the morning mist which yet hung over mountain and valley. 
I had come to a knoll, or mound, some ten or fifteen feet 
high, over the very brow of which the sun appeared as I 
have described, when right across the great, red disc stepped 
the form of a noble buck, and stopped. Had I had a 
camera, I should have been in doubt whether it was a case 
for the rifle or the camera. His noble antlers and upraised 
head and neck cleared the disc, but his shoulders were 
directly across it, and it showed bright and clear above and 
below his body, behind his shoulders. It was wonderful, 


168: 3: BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


it was beautiful, and for a moment I almost forgot the busi- 
ness in hand. But this is a panorama that is not lasting— 
a buck and a hunter looking one another in the face, not 
five rods apart. I had taken him as much by surprise as 
he had me, and, with an old buck’s usual manner, he 
paused for a moment to see what was up; it was only to 
learn what was down. 

I raised my rifle slowly, but the moment it ranged on his 
body it met the sun-glare, and I could not see the sight— 
hardly the muzzle. I lowered to the ground again, took 
sight there, raised to a level, and fired. The buck wheeled, 
and was out of sight. Of course! Even a barn-door is not 
hit by merely pointing one’s gun; and I worked in another 
cartridge, and started up the mound. Just over the crest 
lay the gallant stag, stretched out and dead. My gun, 
after all, had been leveled at his heart—one wheel, a fall, 
and all was over, 

Now, just think of the variety of incident in hunting— 
one of the things that give it constant charm! No two of 
the Deer I had shot had been killed under the, same con- 
ditions; and this fine creature had fallen to me in a way 
that would not happen twice in a life-time. And here letme 
say, that Iam writing actual facts, not fiction—things that 
actually occurred, and precisely as I state them. My pur- 
suit of the Mule Deer has been under such favoring circum- 
stances that I have nothing to invent or to make up in 
writing about him. I, perhaps, ought to have stated this 
definitely before, but hope that it was not needed. 

And was he not a beautiful creature as he lay there! He 
had died literally without pain, for the ball had broken no 
bones, and, passing through his heart, had given, probably, — 
no sensation. This is always a satisfaction in our killing. 
Thus far every Deer had been dead when I came up to it, 
and I had no second shooting to do to put them out of pain. 
It is a great relief. 

After I had bled my Deer, I sat down to look at him, 
before the unpleasant second act. He was rolling in fat and 
of perfect coat and form, about five or six years old, judg- 


THE MULE DEER. 167 


ing from size and antlers and the number of points he 
carried. The rutting-season had not fairly reached him yet, 
though the signs of its coming were not wanting. 

On this Deer, the most striking markings, to me, have 
always been the deep jet-black of the brisket and belly, 
and the rich cinnamon of all the legs from the knees down. - 
Notice, too, the stouter, shorter legs and longer body than 
those of our common Deer—all designed for that peculiar 
gait and motion which so fit him for his home among the 
rough, volcanic hills. The short, stout legs bear the pound- 
ing jump; the pounding jump sinks the foot into the loose 
débris or sets it firmly on the rocks, and gives firm hold for 
the next jump; and the whole form bespeaks an animal 
needing sure foot-hold rather than grace of motion or speed. 
And this glossy, satin, steel-mixed coat is excelled by that 
of none of the genus Cervide. 

- Tam three miles from camp. To go for old George and 
get my Deer to camp will fairly take up my day. Once in 
camp, I rest for the remainder of the afternoon, content 
with my success and its singular incidents. I am lonely 
to-night. Our nature craves fellowship of its kind, and I 
have no admiration for hermit life, and the monastic, with 
its revolt against nature and its certain results, was always 
revolting. ; 

To get my Deer down to the road, and get back to camp 
again, took up most of my time next day, but my good 
luck was still to stay with me. After a hearty afternoon 
dinner, I still had an hour or two of light, and decided to 
use it. Just west of my camp, half a mile, was a shallow 
canon, with but few trees, quite rough and rocky, and yet I 
had seen much sign of Deer there—some shrubs, perhaps, 
or alkali earth, of which they are fond; but I had never 
found any there in fact. To-night, as I drew near the head, 
somewhat carelessly, for I did not look for much, a large 
buck and three does ran out from a thicket, while I was 
yet four hundred yards away. 

I hear and read a great deal about ‘‘ pumping your Win- 
chesters or Bullards at them”’ till you hif one, but it has 


168 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


never been a kind of shooting to suit me. It is entirely 
chance, and where one animal is killed, more by far go away 
wounded to die. I like the fair, clean shot, when, if I hit, 
I kill; if I miss, the Deer can live on unharmed. For 
once, I thought I would try the ‘‘ pumping’’ system. Rais- 
ing my rifle some two feet above the head of the largest 
doe, I fired, hoping that, somewhere, in the drop to the 
_ shoulder, I might hit her. The whole band gave a new 
spring at the shot, and I elevated and fired again. Nothing 
dropped, and all swept out of sight. 

It was getting dusk, and I had turned for camp, when I 
saw, far up on the foot-hill to my right, a single doe moving 
in my own direction, but for the brow of the ridge. She 
passed over it and out of sight. It was three hundred feet, 
and a hill so steep that I must pull myself along by bushes 
part of the way to get up. But she may have stopped 
just over the crest, and by careful work I may get a shot 
yet. At any rate, the wooded, shallow canon over the 
ridge will make a pleasant walk home. I take the climb. 
Toes, hands, and knees, bushes, the butt of my rifle for a 
brace—all come in requisition before I reach the top, just 
short of which I stop to get breath and wipe my steaming 
face. Gradually the breath gets normal, the nerves grow 
steady, and I move slowly to the top. 

It is now quite dusk, and but for the height of the ridge, 
-Ishould not have light to shoot. As I reached the rounded 
crest and peered over, there, not forty feet from me, was 


my Deer, lying down in the deep grass for the night. I 


sighted for her shoulder, through the grass, and at the shot 
she rolled over on her side, dead. It was the very doe I 
had shot at first, for there was a wound in the neck, and 
_she had stolen off alone by herself for the night, perhaps 
to die—a new argument against ‘‘ pumping,”’ for it was the 
merest chance my getting her, as a feather’s weight would 
have turned me from climbing the hill at all, and, as with 
hundreds of others that are shot on the pumping system, 
the coyotes would have had her before morning. She was 
of the largest size, and a noble piece of game. When I 


Sen ote re 


. 4 
SL Gat Lat ay aE ee Se ees. ey aaa i eae a ee Len ee ee 


THE MULE DEER. 169 


had bled and drawn her, the light was gone; I tied my 
handkerchief to one ear, as a precaution against the coyotes, 
and left her till morning. 

The smoke of my camp-fire, with a yet flickering flame; 
the dim outline of my tent, with its little streamer at the 
top; old George at his picket-stake, munching at the bunch- 
grass, were pleasant, home-like signs in the gloaming as I 
came near. The lighted candle inside, and blazing fire out- 
side for a cup of tea, made it still more like home; yet I 
was twelve miles from the ranch, and six miles from the 
nearest human being. In contrast with the wild, weird 
mountains, with their gloomy shadows and moaning pines, 
and darkness coming thickly down on all, the blaze and the 
light were cheer and assurance, and seemed almost a human 
welcome back. There was chaos and darkness till the 
_ primal order came, ‘‘ Let there be light!”’ 

And now come my last day in camp, and my last Deer. 
The season has advanced till the ground is stiff, mornings, 
and often covered with snow. I feel that my partis played, 
and it is time to get back to companionship and the appli- 
ances of comfort and rest in a more thorough shelter and 
larger comforts of a settled home. I have worked up the 
big cafion pretty thoroughly, and do not wish to hunt more 
there. 1 have noticed signs of. Deer passing westerly, 
though there are no woods in sight; all in that direction 
seems bald, bare mountain-top and foot-hill. 

But nothing can be more deceptive than the surface of 
this whole volcanic region of the Blue Mountains. You 
may start for a tramp or a ride ahead, where all looks open 
and rolling as a prairie. In half a mile, you come suddenly 
into a vast cafion, five hundred feet deep—forest-clothed on 
the sides to the very bottom, and intersected by other 
cafions in all directions, of dimensions almost as great as 
its own. These are unfailing resorts for Elk and our pres- 
ent Deer, who find abundance of the food they love, abun- 
dant shelter from danger, the steep and rocky glens and 
hill-sides that are their delight, with always the pure, cold 
mountain stream at the bottom, where by night they can 


170 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


repair for drink, and be back to their foraging-grounds on 
the heights by morning. Such are our animals’ haunts, 
habits, and home. Consequently, I was not at all surprised 
to come into one of these vast cahons, which would never 
be suspected eighty rods away, and where, probably, some 
animals from the bands I had disturbed had come for relief 
and shelter. It proved so. I had come into the caiion by 
a circuit on lower ground, and was passing carelessly over 
a bed of shale, when I saw an enormous buck—doubtless 
the one of the day before—coming quartering past me. He 
saw me, wheeled for another cahon and disappeared. At 
this season, given a patriarchal buck, a band of does is 
not far off. In the summer, I should have mourned over 
this old fellow, with two inches of fat on his brisket, and 
weighing a good three hundred and fifty pounds. Now, I 
mourn him not, with his swollen neck, his tainted body, 
but welcome him j in his flight as my guide to a band of does 
that I do want. 

- Lerossed the divide, clambered down the stiaay side of 
the ravine where he had disappeared, and had just reached 
the bottom and stooped for a drink from the unfailing caiion 
stream, when, up on the extreme brow of the other side of 
the ravine, was passing swiftly a band of does. They 
stopped. Iwas making a choice for a shot, when, glancing 
ahead, there seemed, through the thick brush, the mere 
form of a Deer far larger than any in open sight—so dim 
that it was a mere suggestion, and indistinct at that. If it 
were a Deer at all, I could only hit her through the thick 
brush, and small limbs are proverbial for deflecting a 
bullet. But my 100-grain Sharp was a power even for 
twigs, and so far it had stood me in good stead; 1 had 
only missed once in all these weeks, and that was in 
doing the ‘‘pumping”’ act. I will stake it on the form and 
the Sharps, and fire through the brush. 

Always, in these bands, there seems not only a ruling 
buck, but a leading doe, far larger than the rest. It had 
been my fortune, thus far, in almost every instance, to get 
this leading doe. It was so now. She was on the extreme 


THE MULE DEER. 171 


brow, one hundred and fifty yards away. Holding well up, 
I fired. The form was the leading doe indeed, and she 
came rolling almost to the foot of the hill, with a broken 
back. The knife ended her pains, but it always gives me 
pain to use it for the purpose. This was the largest female 
Deer I had killed in my hunt, and I was glad I had taken 
the risks. Such beauty of coat, such beauty of form, such 
perfection as game! Then look at those ears; nine inches 
long and seven broad, and yet as flexible and sensitive as 
though of the thinnest rubber! And the jet-black brisket; 
and the tufted tail, ending in its bunch of black—truly a 
Mule Deer! 

To gralloch her, ward off magpies, Clark’s crows, and 
Maximilian’s jays, which are already on the ground, with 
impudent chatter at my long delay; to go for George, and 
get my game to camp—this filled out my day; and my hunt 
was done. 

Next day, my good friend came up with two horses, to 
help me to his place with my traps and game, and gave me 
a fellow-hunter’s greeting over my success. And it was to 
fill his own empty larder, too; and that pleased-me. He 
stayed with me over night, and we took the day for our 
work. He was an old packer; was thoroughly up in the 
mysteries of the ‘‘diamond-hitch;’’ took all the labor of 
packing on himself, and left the lighter work to me. I 
drank my last cup of coffee at my fire, took a last look 
at the dear old spot where my tent had stood, and where 
still lay ‘‘the fragrant bed with hemlock spread,’’ and bade 
a last farewell to the loveliest camp I had ever known. 

One final surprise and treat was yet before me. As we 
descended from the mountains, far below, and to a height 
of a hundred feet, rolled down the river a body of fog, so 
white, so dense, so mobile under a gentle west wind, that it 
seemed not mist, not fog, but an actual river of foam. Far 
as the eye could reach, west or east, it still rolled on, as 
distinct.from the prevailing mist and fog and of as perfect 
form as a cloud in the sky. Here and there, as a rounded 
mass would catch the reflection of the sun, it would be of a 


172 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


roseate hue, in beautiful contrast with the snowy whiteness 
around it; and all still slowly rolled on, as if a very body 
of foam caught up in the air and moving on in unison with 
the river beneath. I never saw anything in Nature like it; 
I shall never see it again. And now we began to go down 
into the mist; as we descended, it grew thicker and thicker 


till, when we reached the road, we could not see my friend’s- 


humble home, two rods beyond it. 

My hunt was rounded and complete. It had begun, the 
first evening, with the largest Deer I have ever killed or 
have ever seen. It had continued successful as to game; 
‘the weather glorious; the camping and scenery equally so; 
my health perfect; entire exemption from accident, and 
ended with the most beautiful phenomenon of Nature I 
have ever seen—a rolling, snowy, billowy, rose-tinted 
river of foam! 


WUE Ernaretra ren ent 


sani 


“Se 


EE ee Ree Rey ee RE Ter 


SD Sia Cs Nia A El, fe en Be 


ce. 


oe te mee 


-~ 


THE MULE DEER OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 


By T. 8. VAN Dyke, 


Author of ‘‘ The Still Hunter,” ‘‘ The Rifle, Rod, and Gun in Southern 
California,” ete. 


7HE Deer of this region, though commonly called the 
IS Black-tail, is, in reality, the Mule Deer. It is 
found from the coast to the highest inland mountain- 

2 top. There is a theory among many that it goes 
to the coast in the summer and to the mountains in winter, 
while many others think directly the contrary. I can see 
but little evidence of either theory being correct. There 
are migratory movements of the Deer here, but rarely any 
of a nature so general as that. Once in a few years, Deer 
will be unusually plentiful, coming, undoubtedly, from 
Lower California, or from the high ranges that bound the . 
Desert; and, in occasional years, they will be very scarce. 
There are also local movements—Deer suddenly leaving a 
considerable tract of country and becoming quite plentiful 
in another, several miles ey eoeey governed by the 
question of acorns. 

The real explanation I think to be this: Both in the 
mountains and on the coast, the Deer have a period of 
retirement in the heavy brush, lasting from about the mid- 
dle of April till the first of August, or even later. During 
this time they move but little, and when they come outside 
of the chaparral at all, it is mainly at night, and they 
return to it before day-break. The leaves and twigs of the 
brush are then young and succulent, so that they care little 
for water, and therefore few or no tracks may be found 
about a spring, although several Deer may be in the brush 
near by. This period is longer in the mountains than it is 
along the coast, and the Deer confine their movements still 
more to the brush. 


(173 ) 


174 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


Of course, some may be seen in either place, but in the 
mountains it will be quite accidental. In the lower hills, 
along the coast, it is not so difficult to see game; but in the 
mountains I have hunted a whole week, getting before day- . 
break on a point that would command a wide range of 
brush and open ground, and going again in the afternoon 
and remaining until dark, but, even with the aid of a good 
glass, could see no Deer. Yet there were plenty of fresh 
tracks on all the open places. __ 

At other times, I have at daylight taken tracks not half 
an hour old, and followed them rapidly in a desperate 
attempt to overtake the Deer, whether I got a shot or not. 
But in a few hundred yards they would turn down into 
some deep, dark ravine, bristling with tremendous chap- 
arral, or into some perfect sea of brush along some hill- 
side. In either case, no amount of noise would move them. 
He who would hunt at this time of year—the time, too, 
when the bucks and yearlings are in the best condition— 
must remember this habit of retirement. 

They can undoubtedly be driven from the brush by dogs, 
- but without them you would do little along the coast, and 
much less in the mountains. There are, however, a few 
sections in which they remain secluded a much shorter time 
than in others, but you will find few who can tell you where 
they are. But you need listen to no talk about the Deer 
being ‘‘all at the coast,’ or ‘‘all gone to the mountains,” 
as in each place they think they are gone because they do | 
not see them. The fact is, that the coast is as good as the 
mountains; Deer are always there, and an observant person 
can find the tracks of the same Deer there all the time. 

Some Deer will skulk and hide in the brush at any time 
of year, and the Deer that ran away from you yester- 
day may to-day stand or lie still in brush and let you pass 
within a few yards of him. So, too, a Deer may spring two 
hundred yards away and run like any Deer, then suddenly 
turn into a piece of brush and hide there. 

Deer sometimes lie amazingly close. I once tracked a 
doe and two fawns about a mile and a half through brush 


ae a - 


THE MULE: DEER OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 175 


and rocks, when the trail finally entered some chaparral 
higher than my head. In a few rods I came to the edge of 
a deep ravine heavily clad with brush throughout. As it 
was quite useless to enter it, and as it was getting late, I 
turned about. 

At the same moment, a young dog I was training made a 
bound at the very bush at which I turned about, and out of 
it, not five feet from where I had turned, sprang the whole 
three, with a tremendous smash of brush, and were out of 
sight in a single jump down the hill-side. As I had been 
making plenty of noise for the last hundred yards, it being 
impossible in such brush to help it, these Deer must have 
heard me all the time, and they must certainly have seen 
me; yet an examination of the ground showed that they 
had lain still all the time, not even getting up until the dog 
roused them. | 

Time and again have I tracked Deer into a brush-patch 
of only a few acres, yet found it impossible to start them. 
At such places you may sometimes start them if you get 
upon a commanding rock and sit there patiently. Some- 
times, after five, ten, or fifteen minutes, a Deer can not resist 
the temptation to take a better look at you, or move a little. 
You may see a pair of horns appear above the brush, or a 
long ear or two; or, perhaps, one may be suddenly dis- 
covered sneaking out on one side; or he may break cover 
at last, with a snort and a smash of brush, and go bounding 
away in long, surging springs; but if the cover is good, it 
is more likely that he will let you sit on that rock until he 
gets ready to move again, toward evening. 

This is the worst trick this Deer has, because you so 
rarely know when it is being played on you; and it is so 
hard to circumvent. Where the brush is not too dense and 
high, a good bird-dog is the most effective ally. A good one 
ean be trained to point a Deer as well asabird. But I 
would advise keeping them strictly to pointing, and under 
no circumstances allow one to run after a wounded Deer. 
And it is generally best to keep them at heel, and let them 
point there. There is not one dog in a dozen that can be 


176 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


trusted to go ahead of you after he has caught one or two 
crippled Deer, and few that can be implicitly trusted even 


at heel. Dogs that are perfectly obedient about Rabbits — 


and other things that generally make a fool of a common 
dog, often become perfectly crazy about Deer. And if you 


don’t march upon the game quite as fast as they think’ 


you ought to, or if you turn off the scent to go around, they 
will often conclude they know more than you do about it, 
and will take the job out of your hands, unless you tie them 
to your waist, and then they may break you half in two 
when you shoot. 


I have known a few old dogs, however, who could be 


trusted to go ahead of you, and who would point a Deer 
just as staunchly as they would a bird. Over such I have 
had grand sport shooting Deer in the chaparral. 

This Deer feeds mainly on the leaves and tender twigs 
of the evergreen brush that forms the chaparral; also 
upon various bushes found on more open ground, sucli as 
the sumac, scrub-oak brush, and even live-oak leaves. It 
feeds but little upon grass, though it occasionally nibbles 


green alfilleria or clover. But it is quite fond of barley 


and wheat, when green, and of the shoots of a long grass 
that grows on burnt ground. It also feeds on several low 
shrubs and herbs, such as wild buckwheat, wild alfalfa, ete. 

In the fall, it becomes a great ravager of vineyards and 
gardens. It eats almost every kind of garden-stuff; but 
melons, grapes, and other good things, it loves especially. 
It is very fond of the white muscat grapes, of which the 
best raisins are made, and some of the most easy and 
pleasant hunting to be had in America is found in the low 
hills surrounding a California vineyard. 

Where Deer are but little disturbed with hunting, they 
go but a little way back from the vineyard to spend the 
day, often lying down under some shady brush or rock, 
- within plain sight of it. Being well fed during the night, 


they have little feeding to do during the day, and conse- — 


quently little roaming, hence their movements are much 
more regular than when feeding at large in the hills upon 


Fic sf ae igo Ae 


"9 So. 
"A ds 


A STANCH POINT. 


"4 


mL da 
rete 
Src ham alah 

Si seat Eke 


THE MULE DEER OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. a77 


the native vegetation; and when the hills are not too rough 
or bushy, the labor required to find a Deer is often reduced 
to the lowest point possible in Deer-hunting, while the cer- 
tainty of a shot rises to the highest pont: possible in that 
uncertain amusement. 

No boy ever knows better when he is doing mischief 
than this Deer does; hence it visits the vineyard only at 
night, entering after dark, and leaving with the first gray of 
dawn. Sometimes, Deer may be shot in the vineyard at 
night; but they are then so extremely watchful that they 
can hardly ever be approached, unless with fire, as in regu- 
lar fire-hunting, while lying in wait involves an amount of 
silence and frequent disappointments that is far more 
annoying than a vain search in the hills by day. 

A more certain and pleasant plan for a good hunter is to 
take, in the morning, fresh tracks of their departure from 
the vineyard, and follow them back into the hills, where 
they have gone to spend the day. This generally requires 
tracking upon bare ground, a thing difficult enough, but 
on the whole vastly more easy than it is represented by 
some writers, who would have us believe that the Indian 
alone can do it. But the strong probability of finding 
fresh tracks at once, and overtaking the Deer that made 
them if you can only follow them, more than compensates 
for all difficulties. 

One of the most pleasant hunts of this kind that I ever 
had was at a vineyard near Bear Valley, in the county of 
San Diego, California. It covered some twenty acres of 
bottom-land in a little valley surrounded by low hills, 
forming a perfect amphitheater, of which nearly all parts 
were visible from the ranch-house—a large adobe house of 
the olden time, standing on the rising ground, by a spring, 
upon one side of the valley, and well-filled with comfort, 
hospitality, and good-cheer. 

On a bright November morning, my friend S—— and I left 
the house after breakfast and went to the vineyard to begin 
our hunt. Everywhere upon the soft ground were abun- 


dant tracks of Deer; tracks of every night for the past week 
12 


178 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


mingled with many scarcely five hours old. Here a Deer 
had sauntered down between two rows of vines without 
stopping, and there one had stopped and eaten half a dozen 
bunches of grapes before passing on. In the orchard, 
below the vineyard, havoc was visible upon all sides. Here, 
still hanging on the trees, were large, luscious Japanese 
persimmons from which a whole side had been taken at a 
single bite, and others lay scattered upon the ground ina 
still greater state of ruin. 

Oranges and lemons had been passed, apparently, in dis- 
dain, but the late peaches, pears, and apples had suffered, and 
the twigs of plums, apricots, and other deciduous trees had 
been freely nipped. Along the edge of both orchard and vine- 
yard were hundreds of fresh foot-prints, where the Deer had 
come in and gone out, some having jumped the fence of 
barbed wire, others having crawled under it. One would 
suppose that at least fifty Deer had been in during the night; 
but we had had enough experience before to cause us to 
reduce the calculation to a dozen, at the most. Some had 
gone out, played around the adjacent slopes, and returned 
again, and some had passed in and out several times, and 
all had made many more tracks than were at all necessary. 

Starting at the western end of the orchard, we made a 
circuit on the outside of that and the vineyard, so as to find 
the tracks that it would be most advisable to follow. Three 
Deer, including a large buck, had gone out on the west, but 
they had gone into a cafon that was quite brushy. As the 
wind was from the east, our chances of a near approach 
were so slender that we left that trail until afternoon, by 
which time the wind might have changed. On the south, 
two had gone out. After following these a few hundred 
_ yards, we found that they too had gone westward, and, as it 
was quite certain some had gone out at the eastern end of 
the vineyard, we left this trail, also on account of the wind. 

At the eastern end, we found that five had gone out—a 
doe, two large fawns, and two other Deer leaving foot-prints 
a trifle larger than those of the doe. These tracks were well 
mixed with those of each night for the past week; the 


THE MULE DEER OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 179 


ground was well covered with grass, about an inch high, 

that the first rains had started. The Deer had played about. 
here and there, making all manner of twists and turns. 

Altogether, it was no easy matter to unravel the tangle of 

trails. 

We finally followed the trail into the main valley that 
led. from the hills, on that side, to the vineyard. At the 
first branch of this valley the Deer had had a grand play- 
spell. The fawns, especially, had jumped and pranced 
around in all directions, running up the slopes and coming 
down again with long jumps that tore up the soft ground in 
long furrows. Then the party had divided, the old doe 
going up the branch, while the fawns went with the other 
two Deer up the main valley. 

Some two hundred yards beyond this, another branch 
turned southward. Into this the tracks went; and so, to 
our surprise, did the wind. Coming a little from the north 
of east, this wind would be quite sure to follow this branch 
of the valley; so we had to retreat as hastily as possible, in 
order to make a circuit and get out of the breeze, which 
would be sure to bear our scent to the Deer, and alarm them. 

Retreating down the valley some two hundred yards, we 
ascended the hill on the west side of the little valley into 
which the Deer had gone, so as to be on the leeward side, 
and also be where we could’see into the valley. But before 
we had gone a quarter of a mile the brush became so high, 
dense, and stiff that it was impossible to see anything over 
it, or get through it without making a noise that would 
alarm the Deer before we could get near enough to them for 
anything like certainty in shooting. 

Nothing remained but to back out and go around to the 
head of the little valley, and come down it, and thus have 
the wind in our faces. Nearly half a mile away, we could 
see where it ended by branching into several little ravines, 
with flat-topped ridges between, clad with brush, the whole 
forming a little brushy basin just below where the rugged 
hills broke suddenly away into a smooth, grassy table-land 
beyond. 


180° BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


A detour of nearly a mile then brought us to a high rock 
on the edge of this table-land, and there we sat down to 
take a look. Below us lay the basin, well filled with dark- 
green brush over waist-high, among which was scattered a 
goodly assortment of boulders of gray granite. Carefully 
we scanned every bush and the shade of every rock, and 
turned a strong opera-glass upon every little spot of gray, 
brown, black, or white. Plenty of such spots there were; 
but, one by one, they changed, under the glass, into bits of 
shade, glimpses of granite through brush, or the skull of 
some long-dead ox, looking dimly gray through the fine, 
bright leaves of the lilac or manzanita. 

The warm wind swept up out of the caiion into our faces, 
bearing with it the voices of the men gathering grapes far 
away below; but there was no sound of bounding hoofs 
upon the hard, dry ground; no crack or crash of brush, such 
as are often heard when the Deer takes the alarm and starts 
from his shady bed. Far below, but scarcely three-quarters 
of a mile away, shone the white walls of the ranch-house, 
with the broad vineyard lying in a dense mass of green 
before it; and beside it the ripening oranges were gleaming 
through the dark-green foliage of the trees. Miles away, 
and thousands of feet below us, gleamed a broad silver 
band beneath the western blue, where the mighty ocean 
lay sleeping its long summer sleep of peace, while between 
lay a wild array of tumbling hills, rolling table-lands, and 
valleys dark with depth. On our right, on our left, and 
behind us lofty mountains loomed through autumn’s golden 
haze, some dark and soft with pine forests, others gray and 
rugged, being mere piles of boulders, between which ragged 
chaparral and scrubby oaks struggled for existence. And 
all between, still bright with golden stubbles, lay broad, 
sweeping plains and table-lands, rolling skyward in long 
waves of rich soil covered with yellow grass or scattered 
live-oaks. 

On any of this our prospects seemed about as good as in 
- the hills before us that lay around the vineyard. Yet it 
was certain that the Deer had entered this little valley 


THE MULE DEER OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 181 


whose branching head lay just before and below us. It was 
certain that they had not passed out on the side on which 
we had made our detour, or we would have seen their tracks. 
Nor was it probable that they had crossed over into the head 
of the next valley beyond, for had they intended to go into 
that one, they would have been more apt to enter it by its 
mouth. That we had neither heard nor seen anything of 
the game proved nothing, for Deer that live much in brush 
have a habit of hiding or skulking in it, and may lie still, 
or even stand still, within fifty yards of-a person, or sneak 
quietly off, without arousing one’s suspicion of their pres- 
ence. It was quite probable that they were not two hun- 
dred yards from us, lying down on the shady side of some 
little ravine or under some large bush. 

About one hundred yards below us lay a noble boulder 
of granite, with a smaller one beside it, by which we could 
climb upon it. Its top was broad and flat, and formed a 
most tempting place to sit and enjoy the view and the 
breeze, if nothing else. It was hardly necessary for me to 
suggest that we should transfer ourselves to that boulder, 
for my friend had already chosen it as his next resting- 
place. 

‘** Now,” said I, as we stretched out upon it, ‘‘let’s make 
quite a stay here. A Deer, even when hiding from you, 
often gets uneasy after awhile, and can not resist the temp- 
tation to have a good look at you. If you sit long enough 
within view of one, you may finally hear the brush crack, 
or may see the tips of a pair of ears arise out of the brush 
somewhere, or a pair of horns, perhaps, come surging——’’ 

‘*That isn’t a pair of horns over there, is it?’’ he inter- 
rupted, pointing away on the left. 

About one hundred and thirty yards upon the left, two 
points, some three inches long and twelve inches apart, were 
just visible above the chaparral. To an untrained eye, they 
might have passed for the ends of dead sticks, often seen 
in such brush, whose weather-beaten ends often look gray 
and shiny; but there was a peculiar hue and glitter about 
these points that made them like the face of an old friend 


182 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


dimly caught amid the crowd, while their distance apart 
and direction left no room for doubt. 

My rifle was sighted for that very distance, and was a 
very accurate one, whereas I knew that S—— had not tried 
his for a long time, and did not know exactly for what 
point the sights were set. I handed him mine, and told 
him to fire about a foot below the center between the lower 
ends of the two points. 

‘*No,”’ said he; ‘‘ you try them.” 

There was no time for parley or further interchange of 
courtesies. At any second the points might disappear, to 
be seen no more that day. Moreover, it was a difficult shot, 
involving too much guess-work as to the precise point to 
strike, and a head being too small a mark for that distance, 
even if distinctly seen; but firing by guess at the supposed 
body would have been still worse, as it was impossible to 
say which way it was standing. 

Drawing a fine sight a foot or so below the center 
between the points, I fired. What a whirl of gray and 
white above that distant brush followed the report of the 
rifle, as the Deer sprang upward and turned around with 
almost a single motion! Up he came again in a shining 
curve of gray, his whole outline forming the top of an 
arch over the brush. Bang! went my companion’s rifle, 
and bang! went mine, aimed about where I thought the 
glossy hair would descend into the brush. The smoke for 
a moment rolled across our line of view, then in an instant 
was swept aside by the breeze; and there, just about the 
place where our Deer had disappeared, stood a statue of 
beamy gray. Now we could see it plainly, for it stood 
upon a knoll, perfect in outline, with head proudly erect; 
long, tapering nose and great flaring ears pointed directly at 


us. The bright morning sun shone from its dark, iron-gray 


back and glittered on three or four points upon each horn— 
a perfect picture of a three-year-old buck. 

Both rifles rang out almost together. Through the 
smoke we dimly saw another whirl of white and gray, but 
before either of us could fire again it was gone; but in a 


eee ver okie Tore ee oe | 


Per eee 


~ UP ernie 


“THE MULE DEER OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 1&3 


second more, there rose from the brush in a little ravine 
beyond just such another pair of horns, with just such 
another curve of beamy gray behind them. Again our 
repeaters poured dire intentions upon the scene, but in a 
moment the gray was once more gone, fading over a ridge 
amid a maze of brush. 

But there was no time to think or indulge in specula- 
tions or regrets; for scarcely had the brush closed over the 
slippery beauty, before a crash of brush about a hundred 
yards ahead of us made us turn about with something akin 


to haste. There, surging through the chaparral upon a 


slope across a deep ravine, were the two fawns. They 
looked nearly as large as the bucks, as, with the gay bound 
of the Mule Deer, they rose high above the brush from the 
impulse of their springy legs, striking ground with all four 
feet at once, and bouncing from earth again as though it 
was an India-rubber cushion. Now with a long jump to 
one side, then with a short jump to the other side, rising 
ever high in air, with all four feet grouped beneath them, 
ready to beat the ground simultaneously with a heavy 
thump as they descended, the fawns sped swiftly away. 

Ball after ball tore up the dirt around, above, and below, 
and hissed and sang through the air beyond, until they 
suddenly wheeled and plunged into a little ravine filled 


‘with brush. Just ahead of them, a big Wildcat was run- 


ning, evidently under the impression that he had fallen 
on dangerous times. As he reached the top of the slope, 
he yielded to the temptation to stop and see what was the 
cause of the uproar, evidently having been started by the 
noise only. He sat upon his haunches, with brindle back 
turned toward us, and turned his gray face backward over 
his shoulder. Ina second more, the cat and the dry dirt 
beneath it flew about two feet in air, as a heavy ball 
from my friend’s rifle struck the ground by the root of its 
stubbed tail. It went over the ridge in a somersault of 
brindle hair, and we were again alone. 

We had made plenty of noise and smoke. In fact, few 
rocks have ever seen such a cannonade in such a short space 


184 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


of time. Yet apparently nothing had fallen, and there was a 
painful dearth of evidence that anything had been hit. Tak- 
ing first the tracks of the fawns, we found them leading away 
inlong jumps, tearing up the ground with every leg intact. 
It seemed almost useless to go to look for the others; but we 
went, more from sound principle than from hope. Within 
ten yards of where we had fired at the first Deer, lay a three- 
year-old buck, dead, shot through the shoulder. And now 
the question arose, had we been shooting at only one during 
the first part of the programme, or had there been two Deer ? 
A little circling around revealed a track leading away in 
full run, and following it about a hundred yards, we found 
another three-year-old, dead, with two bullets inhim. The 
second had evidently risen almost into the place vacated by 
the first one, and the first was the last one we found, 


Te eee ee ee Se ee 


is ail ee aN 


THE VIRGINIA DEER. 


By WALTER M. Wo tre ( ‘‘ SHOSHONE ” ). 


Ay 7 HIS animal is so well known to students of natural 

Nt history, and there is so much literature extant con- 

Y cerning it, that little remains to- be said. It is 
-~* doubtful, indeed, if any facts can be stated that will 
be new to science; and yet, as this volume will be read by 
the youth of this and succeeding generations, many of whom 
may not previously have studied other works on the Cer- 
vide, it is deemed proper to give here a brief technical 
description of Virginianuws, with such other facts as the 
writer has accumulated in hunting and studying it. This 
species can not be described more tersely or accurately than 
in the words of the Hon. John Dean Caton, and I therefore 
take the liberty of quoting from his valuable work, ‘‘The 
Antelope and Deer of America,’ the description of this 
animal, which is as follows: 


About the size of the Columbia Deer, with longer legs and longer body; 
head lean and slim; nose pointed and naked; eyes large and lustrous; ears 
small and trim; antlers have a spreading posterior projection, and then curve 
anteriorly, with posterior tines; neck long and slender; body long for its size; 
tail long and lanceolate in form; legs straight and long. 

Lachrymal sinus covered with a fold of skin; tarsal gland present; meta- 
tarsal gland small, and, below the middle of the leg, naked and surrounded by 


- white hairs; outside of these there is usually a band of dark-brown hairs, which 


are surrounded by long reversed hairs of the color of the leg. 

Two annual pelages. Summer coat, from bay-red to buff-yellow; winter 
coat, a leaden gray, greatly variant. Deciduous antlers, and confined to the 
males. 

The Judge then gives the following observations as to 
its habitat, range, etc.: 

This Deer has the widest range of any uibies of the family, in any part 
of the world. Its range is from the Atlantic to the Pacific, extending into 
Canada and British Columbia on the north, and penetrating far into Mexico 
on the south. It may be found to-day in every State and Territory of the 

C185 ) 


186 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


United States. It inhabits alike the dense woodlands and open prairies, the 
high mountains and the lowest valleys, the arid plains and the marshy swamps. 

As we might well expect, from its wide distribution and varied range, we 
find several more or less distinctly marked varieties of this species, all of 
which have well-defined indicia which determine their specific identity. 

From its wide distribution and great numbers, it is quite familiar to nearly 
all Americans, and is almost the only one known to most of them. 

In form and action it is the most graceful of all, and has been more fre- 
quently domesticated than any other; yet ravely have persistent attempts been 
made to reduce it to complete and permanent domestication. When young it 
is a pretty pet around the premises; but in a few years it becomes dangerous, 
and so is generally got rid of. In its markings it is less stable than either of 
the other species. In shades of color there are wide differences among indi- — 
viduals in the same neighborhood, while fugitive markings are frequently 
observed which are present only for a single year, and some individuals have 
permanent markings which are wanting in others. In summer pelage a large 
majority are of a bay-red, and with a great diversity in shade, while others 
of the same herd will be of a buff-yellow; between these extremes almost every 
shade may be seen. 

In a given neighborhood there is a great difference in the size of indi- 
viduals, but there is a permanent difference in size in different localities; the 
smallest being found in’ the southern part of the range bordering the Gulf of 
Mexico and in Northern Mexico, the westerly ones being the smallest of all, 
where they have been classed by naturalists as a separate species, under the 
name of Cervus Mexicanus. In their northern range and in the mountainous 
regious of the West, the white portion covers a larger surface of the body than 
in other regions, where they have been ranked by many naturalists as a sepa- 
rate species under the name of Cervus lucurus. By hunters these have been 
called the Long-tailed or White-tailed Deer, the latter name having been used 
by Lewis and Clarke, while ‘in truth their tails are no longer than those found 
in other regions. From the larger extent of white frequently, if not generally, 
found on them, we might possibly be justified in assigning them the distinction 
‘of a variety, though this peculiarity is by no means universal, for many indi- 
viduals can not be distinguished from those found in Illinois or Wisconsin. I 
have one specimen, from Northwestern Minnesota, with all the legs entirely 
white to several inches above the hocks and knees, with occasionally a tawny 
hair interspersed among the white. The white on the belly, too, extends up 
the sides farther than is usually observed. This is exceptional, though not 
very uncommon in the Northwest, but I have never seen it in their middle or 
southern range. I have never found any black on the tails or faces of the 
northern variety, while it is common on more southern and eastern varieties. 
This accords with a law—which, however, is not universal—by which we are 
led to expect more white on the same species of quadrupeds or birds which are 
permanently located in the North than on those located in the South. 

The antlers of the Virginia Deer are peculiar, and easily recognized. The 
curvature described is more abrupt than on any other species, while the pos- 
terior projection of the tines from the beam is peculiar to this Deer, except that 


ud eh eel He 
Rah Tere Faye ae 


a a Bal ace 


- THE VIRGINIA DEER. 187 


it is sometimes observed on exceptional antlers of the Mule Deer and the 
Columbia Deer. 

The Virginia Deer is the wildest, shyest, shrewdest, and 
the most difficult to hunt, successfully, of all the species of 
Cervide on this continent, and though many thousands of 
them are killed every year, yet many thousands more 


On Guard. 


escape the hunter’s rifle where, under like conditions, either 
the Mule Deer or the Columbia Black-tail would have 
been successfully stalked and killed. Few naturalists, even, 
who are not sportsmen as well, realize the difficulty of 
approaching this animal; and no one who has not hunted 
it can realize the degree of patience and skill that the man 
must possess who, generally speaking, can go into the forest 


188 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


and kill, by still-hunting, a Virginia Deer. No one who 
has not tried it can ever know the weary hours of cautious, 
stealthy treading through woods, thickets, and over hills, 
the intense strain on the senses and the nervous system, 
the great concentration of intellect on the work in hand, 
of the man who successfully copes with this denizen of the 
shadows. No one who has not felt it can realize the 
chagrin, the keen disappointment, that the hunter feels 
when, after hours of stalking on the fresh trail of a buck, 
in the new-fallen snow, he hears a whispered thump! thump! 
away on the hill-side, and looks up just in time to see one 
sway of the great white flag as the quarry disappears over 
the ridge. No animal living has such eyes, such ears, and 
such a nose as the Virginia Deer. 

In the Indian sign-language, the name of this animal is 
indicated by a gentle wave of the uplifted hand from right 
to left and back again, and so familiar is the motion to the 
eye of every still-hunter, that any member of the craft, 
though he might never have heard that there was a sign- 
language, would know at once to what the motion referred. 

I wish it were possible to correct in the minds of all 
sportsmen and students, at once and for all time, the many 
erroneous notions that prevail among them concerning the 
existence of distinct species or varieties of this Deer. 
Recently, a number of communications were published in 
one of the sportsmen’s journals, in which the writers claimed 
that a distinct variety of Deer exists in portions of the 
Rocky Mountains, which they termed the ‘‘Fan-tailed 
Deer.’ They based this classification on the fact that the 
tails of certain White-tailed Deer in that region were much 
wider than those of the White-tailed Deer in other portions 
of the -country—that is, that the hair on the sides of the tail 
was longer, and grew straight out, instead of down, as in the 
case of the eastern variety. Some of these correspondents 
further claimed that this Deer did not grow as large as 
Virginianus. 

In many sections of the country we hear native hunters 
assert that there are in their vicinity two species or varieties 


aye a en oe 


Np ieee 


aia al! nee a 


ea 


a ni 


ra ee 


4 
4 
4 
E c 
: 
q 
4 
t 
. 
: 
‘sg 
is 
4 
4 


THE VIRGINIA DEER. : 189 


of Deer—the swamp Deer and the upland Deer. Some of 
them tell us that the swamp Deer has longer legs and a 
longer, more slender body than the upland Deer. Others, 
again, give us exactly the opposite statement. Still others 
tell us that they have killed what they term crosses between 
these two varieties. In the Far West we occasionally hear 
of crosses between the Mule Deer and the Virginia Deer. 

In Michigan and Wisconsin, albinos are killed occasion- 
ally, and many native hunters believe, religiously, that 
these constitute a distinct species; that should a white buck 
and a white doe mate, the result would be a white fawn. 
But all these theories are knocked in the head occasionally 
by some one seeing or killing a white doe with a fawn by 
her side of the usual color, or vice versa. In two instances 
that have come to my knowledge, a doe and two fawns have 
been seen together, one of the latter being white and the 
other two members of the family being of the regulation 
color. Albinos, in any species of quadruped or bird, where- 
ever found, are simply a freak of nature, and not the result 
of heredity. Size, color, length of legs, and shape of body 
may, and do, vary widely in specimens of the Virginia Deer, 
as in many other wild animals, without constituting distinct 
varieties or species. These variations are due only to 
individual characferistics, and not to natural and fixed laws. 
It would be as absurd to say that all horses must be of the 
same size, shape, and color, as that all Deer of this orany 
other given species must be so. 

The vitality of the Virginia Deer is a subject of wonder 
to men who have hunted it. In this respect it ranks second 
only to the Antelope. 

The negroes of the South frequently erect scythes or 
sharp stakes in their runways, knowing that the Deer, in 
leaping over some log or fence, will be so mutilated that he 
will drop within halfa mile. Thus many a cabin, without 
labor on the part of its occupants, is kept supplied with 
venison. 

Market-hunters have well-nigh exterminated the Deer in 
the Adirondacks. When they think that they are safe from 


190 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


the observation of game-wardens, all the dogs that will fol- 
low a trail are brought into requisition, and the Deer are 
driven into the water, where, perfectly helpless, a club, ax, 
or a rifle completes the work of butchery. In the winter, 


‘‘crusting’’ is followed by these mountaineers, and when the 


weather is too warm for venison to keep, it is jerked, and 
then sent to market. The ‘‘ Jack-o’-lantern’’ method, in 


favor among some hunters, is scarcely more commendable. - 


The Deer is given no chance of escape, but is frequently 
only wounded, and left to crawl off into the bushes and die. 
Give a Deer a chance, and he will run or fight as the emer- 
gency requires. When he does fight, he is no mean enemy. 

The Virginia Deer was the first game hunted on this 
continent by the whites, and though, like the Buffalo, he 
has been driven from many of his native haunts, he is not 
in like danger of becoming extinct. Adequate and well- 
enforced laws will preserve him in the East, and there is 
little danger of his being run out of either the Lake Supe- 
rior or Lake Michigan region, or from the lower Mississippi 
States. His pursuit calls into play all the mental and 
physical energies of the sportsman, and there is nothing 
nobler in the chase than either of the legitimate methods 
of hunting this beautiful animal. 

Sportsmen in different sections of the ‘Country have their 
own peculiar methods of hunting the Deer. A rifle is ridi- 
culed by the men who hunt in the cane-brakes of Louisiana, 
and a shotgun is an abomination in the Adirondacks or in 
the Rocky Mountains. As arule, along the Atlantic Coast 
and in the South, hounds are employed in hunting Deer. In 
the West they are regarded as useless. It makes no differ- 
ence, however, where the tyro goes for his sport, he must 
get over the ‘‘buck-fever’’ before he can become a success- 
ful sportsman, or really enjoy the chase. The mere killing 
of game does not entitle a man to the freedom and priv- 
ileges of the craft. 

Several years ago, the writer was introduced to a miner 
in El Dorado County, California, who, from the amount of 
venison he brought into market, was esteemed a veritable 


FESR eee me ee ee 


i asad) 
ee Oe eee eT EET pee” NN, Cpe eae Se ee eee ee 


silse Eada Wace nar 
ene A a es Vil cite of 2 


a a i Ni a a OT Ne, ay, i 
ms , % , ery es ‘ ee "Ss 


ee een ee ee 


THE VIRGINIA DEER. 191 


Nimrod throughout the whole region. He offered to give 
me all the Deer-shooting I wanted if I would go with him, 
so I took a half-day’s ride with him to his cabin in the 
mountains. Near his house was a bed of white clay that 
had been exposed by hydraulic miners. On the bluff above 
this was a large pine-tree, and in this a platform or box had 
been built. I inquired as to its use, and was told that I 
would find out before long. There was yet no sign of dawn 
when we started out with our rifles, the next morning, and 
what was my surprise to see that the Nimrod carried a pair 
of blankets with him. Did he intend to spend the next 


- night in the wilderness, or did he intend to blindfold his 


game and lead it home? Neither. He simply went to that 
pine-tree, climbed up to the box, by means of pegs that he 
had inserted during his leisure hours, and, wrapping the 
blankets about him, dozed as contentedly as though he were 
in bed. As soon as it was light, a couple of Deer came down 
the trail to the clay-bed, where they had a ‘‘lick.’”’ They 
were not thirty yards from us as we peered over the top of 
the box, and as our rifles cracked together, both fell in 
their tracks. That was enough for me. Such work is not 
sport, but butchery. 

The woods of Northern New York and New England 
are practically hunted out. Sportsmen from the large 
cities, provided with all the comforts and appliances of civ- 
ilization, visit these resorts, and they are bound to secure 
some trophies, regardless of either method or law. 

Good shooting may be had in Minnesota, where Virgin- 
anus is so abundant as to be, in many places, a nuisance 
to the farmer. Deer infest the young wheat-fields and 
vegetable-patches of the Scandinavian homesteaders, who 
lie in wait for them with old-fashioned muzzle-loading mus- 
kets heavily charged with buckshot. The Deer do their 


feeding principally at night, spending the day-time in the 


thickets. As soon as acorns are ripe, they travel on the 
ridges at night and live among the jack-oaks. 

Mr. J. H. Beatty says: ‘*The bucks make ‘scrapes’ in 
the open woods, which they visit at night to see if the does 


192 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


have crossed,* and follow any trails that may be found. As 
the cold weather and drifting snow drives them from the 
open districts, they work back into the heavy pine timber 
and immense tamarack swamps. Here they collect in bands, 
and roam about, feeding on kinnikinic, hazel-brush, oaks, 
pines, tamarack, and a species of fungus which grows in 
the swamps. In the spring they return to their old haunts, 
in an emaciated condition, to recruit and have their fawns.”’ 

In the dense brush of these northern swamps a shotgun 
will possibly secure more Deer than a rifle, but so many 
wounded animals will get away from the shotgun-hunter, 
only to die a lingering death in the swamps, that, after all, 
the use of the rifle seems preferable. Its successful use 
requires more skill, and it is the true sportsman’s weapon 
when in pursuit of big game. 

The ‘‘Swamp Deer’’ of Minnesota and the little ‘‘ Red 
Deer’’ of Florida are identical except as to size, and the 
variation in this is simply the result of environment. 


One of my most enjoyable Deer-hunts was on the Red 
River, in Southwestern Arkansas. Deer, Bears, and Tur- 
keys were plentiful there in those days, and I presume are 
yet. We started out early in the morning—the Doctor, 
myself, two freedmen, who were born hunters, and a mag- 
nificent pack of such hounds as are to be found only south 
of Mason and Dixon’s line. The horseback-ride of five 
miles, through the rolling, low-timbered country, was 
enough to whet the ardor of any hunter. We saw plenty 
of gobblers, but they were not the game we were after, and 
as they hid themselves as speedily as possible, the tempta- 
tion to shoot was soon removed. 

As we neared Creighton’s Bayou, we struck a number of 
trails that were too cold to allow the dogs to follow them. 
Suddenly, one trail turned from the bayou toward the river. 
The indications. were that the Deer had gone early to water. 
This we were soon assured of, for after the trail turned 


* IT can not indorse this statement of Beatty’s. The bucks do paw up the ground in 
the rutting-season, but not for the purpose of revealing the tracks of the does. The buck 
trails the doe by scent, not by sight.—Eprror. 


4c ee yer Se 
Sn eS ea a a Ca 


eR 


Vee A a eo, eT ee re 


THE VIRGINIA DEER. 193 


from the stream, the dogs opened freely. We were satisfied 
that if we could keep up with the pack, we could get a shot 
as the Deer jumped from its bed. The sun was already 
quite hot, and it was none too early for the Deer to take his 
customary rest. 

Suddenly the trail led into a little open glade, where 
_were fallen trees and tall ferns. I had just time to formu- 
late the idea that our game was here, when the hounds 
‘plunged into the brakes, and up sprang a magnificent buck. 
Before I could dismount, the Doctor’s bullet whizzed past 
me, and the buck dropped, stunned, but far from dead. 
The hounds were upon him in an instant, but had he not 
been so furious, he could have escaped from them. Then 
’ began a terrific battle, between horns and hoofs on the one 
side and sharp teeth on the other. The combatants shifted 
positions each second, and at first we could get in no fair 
shot. Finally, one of the largest of the dogs gota fair hold 
on the Deer's throat, and as he tossed back his head pre- 
paratory to striking, both of us fired, and the buck fell 
without a struggle. One of the dogs was so badly cut that 
it had to be killed, and another was severely injured. 

After this diversion, we set to work to carry out the pro- 
gramme of the day. We were to have a regular drive. Near . 
the bayou were two runs. The Doctor took his stand at 
one, and I at the other. The freedmen took charge of the 
hounds, and easily divided them into two packs, as they 
were accustomed to being hunted in this way. It seemed 
an age that we waited there, and I began to think that if 
the hounds had started any game they had driven it in some 
other direction. 

At length I heard the faint ery of the pack. They were 
coming our way. I had plenty of time, and stepped out to 
look up the trail when I found myself facing a buck that 
was trotting leisurely down to the water. He saw me as 
soon as I saw him, and wheeled like a flash; but he was not 
more than fifty yards away, and before he could reach the 
underbrush I fired, and he dropped. The hounds were 


coming nearer, so I did not dare take time to cut his throat. 
13 


194 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA.’ 


A few moments, however, convinced me that they were on 
the other run, and that the Doctor could look out for that 
part of the field. Ireached my buck to find him stone-dead. 

In the meantime, two reports had rung out from the 
Doctor’s stand, and I was decidedly jealous, as I supposed 
he had certainly secured three Deer to my one; so I left my 
game where it was and started to find him. 

‘Hello, old man, what have you got?’’ I shouted as I 
came in sight of my partner, who was keeping the hounds 
from a spotted object that lay quivering among the ferns. 

‘¢ A measly fawn,”’ was his reply. 

It turned out that a doe and fawn had been driven 
down, and the Doctor had vowed he would never killa doe, 
His first shot had missed the fawn, and he was mad at him- 
self for having had to fire a second time. It must have been 
that the buck I shot had not been started by the dogs, but 

. had heard them in the distance, and imagined that he had 
plenty of time to escape before they struck his tracks. 

Jeff had now reached us, but of Zeb and the other pack 
we had heard nothing. -We would have anywhere from ten 
minutes to half an hour’s notice of their approach, so the 
time seemed most opportune for the lunch which was on 
our saddles. We did full justice to the cold chicken, sand- 
wiches, and hard-boiled eggs while Jeff was dressing the 
game, and then our helper, having helped himself, started 

‘away with the pack. We lighted our ‘Lone Jack”? and 
‘*Perique,’? and resumed our stands, awaiting further 
developments. 

The exercise of the morning and the sultry stillness of 
the forest at noon made me drowsy. It seemed safe to 
indulge in a little siesta. The hounds would surely awaken 
me in time to get a shot if they came my way, so I sat down, 
and, leaning against the tree in the warm sunlight, was 
soon out of Arkansas and away up among the Green Mount- 


‘ ains, where I caught my first trout and killed my first Deer. . 


How long I dreamed I can not tell. Suddenly there was 
a confusion of bays and yelps, and, as I opened my eyes, a 
streak of dun and white flashed by the tree. I pulled up 


NN ET RE ee oe ee ee ee eee ee, 


THE VIRGINIA DEER. 195 


my rifle, fired without taking aim, and, as the hounds 
‘swept by, I heard the splash of the Deer as he plunged into 
the bayou. The packs were together, with Jeff and Zeb 
close behind. I told them to follow the dogs, and then, 
getting my horse from the thicket where he was tied, joined 
the chase, accompanied by the Doctor, who had heard the 
‘noise and come over to see what had been the result of my 
shot. 

Far across the bayou the voices of dogs and men were 
growing fainter; but our horses were fresher than either 
Deer or dogs, and we hoped to be in at the death. Before 
reaching the water we saw blood, which gave us hope. The 
bayou was shallow; nevertheless, we were well soaked when 
we emerged on the opposite bank. And now there was no 
longer a beaten track to follow. Stout creepers threatened 
to sweep us from our steeds; fallen trunks invited a fall; 
marshy holes were all about us; but we kept on—rifle in one 
hand, reins in the other. First a branch knocked off the 
Doctor's hat; a moment later, mine followed suit. White 
foam crept out from beneath the saddle-blankets. So we 
rode, regardless of everything but Deer and hounds. 

The swamp was finally passed, the hill was climbed, and 
we were riding along the ridge, when the noises that we fol- 
lowed stopped. Then came the fire-cracker-like report of — 
Jeff's revolver. 

‘**Tt’s all up with us,”’ said the Doctor; ‘‘we may as well 
let ’°em walk the rest of the way.” 

The horses were in for sport, however, as well as we 
and the hounds, and would not slacken until the end of the 
chase. 

It was a hot late-summer afternoon. Down among the 
creepers, in a little glade, lay the Deer. The dogs were 
resting under the trees. With loosened girths and dripping 
flanks, the horses wandered in the shade. Our freedmen 
were lazily smoking away the mosquitoes. The day’s hunt- 
ing was over. 

I had held low, and the ball, inflicting a slight wound 
just above the knee, had ranged forward so as to expose a 


196 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


portion of the intestines. Had the Deer been allowed to 
lie down and give nature a chance, he might have come out 
all right. As it was, the odds were against him, but he 
kept pluckily on until his viscera began to drop out, and 
then the hounds soon had him. 

We had a twelve-mile ride back to the plantation, cross- 
ing that vile bayou, and leaving the colored men to attend 
to the game and hounds. But, tired and hungry as we 
were, we delayed eating until we could get a juicy cutlet 
from the fawn, and then we were ready to make the same 
trip on the morrow. 


As already stated, the range of the Virginia Deer is 
bounded on the east by the Atlantic Ocean and on the west 
by the Pacific. I have met him in various portions of the 
Far West, on the plains, in the mountains, in the great 
river valleys, and among the foot-hills. 


It may not be amiss to reproduce here portions of an arti- 
cle which I recently contributed to Sports Afield, descriptive 
of one of my hunting-trips in Western Wyoming, on which 
occasion we killed several Deer, in addition to Antelope 
and Mountain Sheep. The story runs thus: 

The last round-up of the year was over. The last train- 
load of cattle bearing the G-square brand was on its way to 
Chicago. The corral was deserted. Narboe and the boys 
had gone to Green River, and Iwas alone. I was blue. We 
boys who have rustled about mining-claims and cow-camps, 
living on fat bacon, wrapping our blankets about us at . 
night and lying on the cold ground, with the starry dome 
for a canopy, with the howl of the coyote for a lullaby, 
know what it is to be blue. It was Christmas-tide, and as I 
watched the smoke of the receding engine become fainter 
and fainter, and finally lose itself in the haze of Red Des- 
ert, there was a big lump in my throat. I wanted excite- 
ment; so I turned to the shed, saddled Old Calamity, 
mounted, and with my 40-90 Bullard across my lap, rode— 
not eastward, but westward down the saline waters of 
Bitter Creek. 


THE VIRGINIA DEER. 197 


It was a dreary day—cold, cloudy, and cheerless as my 
own thoughts. There were but two section-houses in the 
twenty odd miles to be traversed. Once in awhile a great 
gray sage-cock would dart across the trail, and on the sum- 
mit of a distant hill I saw the branching antlers of a Black- 
tailed Deer. A pair of green-winged teal arose from the 
surface of a brackish pool, and I wondered what they were 
doing in such a God-forsaken region. Then the cafion grew 
more narrow. Its northern side was a precipice of naked 
rock. Here and there a hole in the wall and a blackened 
dump showed where prospectors had sought for coal, but 
now everything was the personification of desolation. 

It was past noon when I reached the station, section- 
house, and corral that are named, on the Union Pacific’s 
time-card, Point of Rocks. Here the hills broke, and a road 
—scarce more than a trail—led northward to the valley of 
the Sweetwater and to the beauties of the Yellowstone. From 
this point my route lay northward into the heart of the 
game-preserve. It was too late in the season for the regular 
teamsters. Two weeks ago the last wagon-train had started 
for Lander, Atlantic, and South Pass. It would be April 
or May before they returned. Fortunately, Frank Moffat, 
the station-agent’s brother, and Si Johnson, his partner, 
were at the depot, and the next morning were going twenty 
miles northward to their lonely ranch, to look after their 
cattle. A hunting-trip was quickly madeup, and I rejoiced 
at the thought of going into, to me, a ferra incognita. By 
the aid of a musty pile of yellow-covered fiction, and the 
cheerful conversation of the cowboys, the afternoon and 
evening passed quickly away, and we started early the next 
morning for the mountains. 

A long and dreary ride lay before us, and it was too cold 
to devote any attention to the grandeur of the desert 
scenery. About five o’clock we reached Moffat’s ranch, 
where a hundred or two gaunt steers were gathered about 
a bog-hole, and a shed half-sunk in the hill-side sheltered 
half a dozen range horses. The cabin was built at the edge 
of the mesa, where it caught the full force of the bitter 


198 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


wintry winds. It was built of railroad-ties and mud, warm 
enough in its way, but somewhat close, owing to the fact 
that its one window was nailed in position. A sheet-iron 
stove occupied one corner, a bunk one end, a table one side, 
and the remainder was more than comfortably filled with 
saddles, harness, ammunition, and provisions. Boxes 
served as chairs, but, after a supper of bacon, fried potatoes, 
hot bread and molasses, it proved a very comfortable place 
for a game of ‘‘ high-five.”’ 

We were again on the way early in the morning, riding 
northward in the face of a stiff, cutting zephyr from the 
summits of the Wind River Mountains. It is never very 
warm before sunrise at an elevation of seventy-five hundred 
feet, and on this Christmas morning the cold was almost 
unendurable. We were clad as warmly as was consistent 
with freedom of movement, and our pockets were full of 
cartridges. 

Northward, still northward; the rising sun showed Table 
Rock and Old Steamboat to the left, Sweetwater to the east, 
while far ahead the mighty peaks of the Wind River Range 
shone like icicles above the clouds. We passed a wallowin 
which four Buffalo were taking their morning drink. Away 
they went over the alkaline waste, and we did not pursue. 
They were the last Bison that I saw, and probably the last 
that I shall ever see outside of an inclosure. Possibly they 
are the same bunch that were captured last summer on Red 
Desert. About nine o’clock’ we came to a steep slope. 

‘Duck your head,” said Si; ‘‘ we always see Antelope 
here.”’ 

Sure enough, we reached the crest in time to start a bunch 
of seven within a hundred yards. We were off our horses 
and got in a couple of shots before they were out of range. 
‘**Durn our skins,’’ was all my companion said, as he re- 
mounted, which was sufficient evidence to me that we had 
thrown away our ammunition. 

Away we went after them, and had ridden, perhaps, half 
a mile, when a sheep-like ‘‘ Ba-a-a’’ on one side made us 
pull up. There lay a young doe shot through the hind 


§ 
z 
; 
é 
: 


CHRISTMAS EVE AT 


A CATTLE RANCH. 


Ee ee ey Oe oe ee eS, ee a 


THE VIRGINIA DEER. 199 


quarters. How she had managed to run so far was a 
mystery. Si cut her throat, and soon the quarters were 
dangling from the saddle-horns, as we galloped northward. 
Later in the day, another band was found, and several more 
were killed, loaded up, and then the homeward trail was 
struck. But the sport of the day was not over. When 
within two miiles of the cabin a magnificent buck started 
from a sheltering arroyo, and before he passed over the hill 
a ball whistled over him, which considerably accelerated his 
speed. We considered the chances as ten to one that we 
would never see him again; but he could not run a bluff 
with impunity, so we cached the Antelope-meat and started 
in pursuit. After a hot ride of an hour, we started him 
from another cafion. This time he doubled on his trail, and 
dashed for the point where he was first found. We had no 
idea that he would stop this time, and our horses were so 
tired that we leisurely retraced our way, content with the 
prospect for supper. How long we had struggled over rocks 
and through sage-brush I can not tell. Suddenly, Si almost 
fell from his horse, and lay flat on the ground. I followed 
suit. There, just ahead, on an elevation, we could see a 
pair of branching antlers, showing that the stag was wary. 
Si rested his Winchester on a rock, and-I was to crawl 
nearer if possible. I had gone perhaps thirty yards through 
the sage-brush, when I heard a shot; a ball whistled over 
me, and I raised in time to see the monarch of the glen 
plunge headlong into a caiion. When we reached the spot 
he rose on his fore legs and shook his horns defiantly, but 
his backbone was broken, and a grace-shot Henge the head 
made him our game. 

Then homeward with our load, in the early gloaming. 
For supper we had the juciest and most tender Antelope 
and the toughest venison I have ever tasted, and after a 
pipeful of ‘‘ Lone Jack’’ I lay down to dream of another 
Christmas in the semi-tropical forest of Orizaba. 


We all have stored away, somewhere in the archives of 
memory, records of these red-letter days. They may have 


200 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


been spent by the trout-streams of boyhood, by the pools 
of Miramichi, or among the Elk and Antelope of the Far 
West. We look for another such day to-morrow. And 
in after years, when our eyes grow dim and our steps fal- 
ter, we will look back upon these red-letter days, and, in 
imagination, live them over again, enjoying the sport with 
all the zest we felt when we really listened’ to the mur- 
mur of the waters, the baying of hounds, or the sharp 
report of the rifle. 


A DEER-HUNT. 
3 By WaAH-BAH-MI-MI. 


HE voice of brave ‘‘ Venus” was heard on the gale, 

And the fierce howl of Driver came close at her heel; 
4 The sharp yell of Patch told the story of game, © 
‘ As down the ‘‘ swamp-runway ” the grand chorus came? 

The fear-stricken quarry, in proud antlered pride, 

Fled onward, with snow-flakes of foam on his side. 

On, onward he sped—over brake, and o’er brier. 

- Each bound to his doom brought him nigher and nigher; 

And louder behind him swelled full on the breeze 

That matchless refrain through the old cedar-trees. 

*T was clear as the notes of the bugle, which thrill 

The spirit of Echo o’er valley and hill. 

Tell me not of the music which instruments make, 

Though harmony trembles in every wake; 

Tell me not of the sound of a lute in the grove, 

Though that lute be attuned to the cadence of love; 

Tell me not of the chorus that swells o’er the: bowl, 

When wine sparkles brightly and mirth thrills each soul— 

No melody rivals the magical sound 

Of the deep-toned and heart-stirring voice of the hound, 

When fierce on the trail, with proud fire in his eye, 

He follows each wind of the scent in ‘‘ full ery!” 

But close came the music to where Ronald stood, 

With nostrils expanded, impatient for blood; 

His old double-barrel, that oft had been tried, 

Was ready; his eye glanced on every side. 

The breaking of twigs gives him warning, when high, 

With a bound o’er the bushes, the buck meets his eye: 

Full sixty yards off did he burst on his view, 

When up went his gun—tried, trusty, and true; 

Out rang a report on the cool evening air; 

We looked for the quarry—in death he lay there! 

The bullet had pierced him direct ’twixt the eyes, 

*T was gallantly done. A magnificent prize 

Was that stately old Deer, as he drew his last breath, 

Full-length on the runway. Then in at the death, 

With a grand, sweeping chorus, the noble dogs came, 

(201 ) 


202 


BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


And rushed with a bloodthirsty roar at the game! 
*Twas worthy the sportsman, and worthy the gun, 
The fall of that noble old buck on the run. 
The sound of that rifle, still true to its aim, 
Brought each man from his “‘ stand” for a view of the game. 
The pipes were drawn forth, and then over the slain 
The run and the shot were enacted again. 

The balmy fall evening was curtained with haze, 

The tree-tops were tinged with the sun’s sinking rays, 
The leaves of the forest were silent and still. 

The mighty old hemlock that stood on the hill 

Moved not from its roots to its branches on high, 
Which towered in majestic relief ’gainst the sky. 

*Twas a beautiful scene, but the shadows of night 
From eve’s dark’ning sky were commencing their flight. 
The quarry was shouldered, and glad was the tramp, 
As we carried our trophy away to the camp. 

Oh, give me the startling sound of the gun— 

The rousing refrain of the hounds at full run! 

Oh, give me the sight of the Deer on the bound 

Over valley and hill, as he spurns the ground! 

Oh, give me the blaze of the camp-fire at night, 

When day and its glories have vanished from sight! 
When friends and companions are seated around, 

With the sky for a roof, for a bed but the ground— 
The steam of the tea-kettle curling aloft 

Through the ether of Paradise, balmy and soft; 

The potato-pot boiling and snorting with ire; 

The frying-pan hissing aloud on the fire; 

And an appetite keen from the glorious run, 

Awaiting the moment when ‘Supper is done.” 
Compared with such charms, a palace would be, 
Though gilded and gorgeous, a prison to me! 


THE GRIZZLY BEAR. 


By W. 8. Rarysrorp, D.D. 


947. UCH works on natural history as I have been able to 
=‘ consult, give most inaccurate and misleading ac- 
counts of the Grizzly Bear; and having captured, 
hunted, and yarned with a great variety of Western 
Nimrods who had hunted, or professed to have hunted, 
persistently, this monarch of all American game animals, I 
am convinced of the absolute inaccuracy of such lore as 
they usually supply to the public. I have hope, however, 
that though this article is of necessity written in haste, 
it may prove useful to some who are anxious for themselves 
to make the Grizzly’s acquaintance. 

I believe Lewis and Clarke, in their history of their 
adventurous journey across this continent, in 1802-04, were 
the first to give to the public an account of the Grizzly Bear. 
They met him on the upper waters of the Missouri River, 
and his size, ferocity, and tenacity of life made a great 
impression on the minds of the explorers. 

There can, I think, be no doubt that the Grizzly is one 
distinct species in itself, and the habit, among hunters in 
the West, of speaking as though there were three or four 
different species of gray Bears, is a mistaken one. Local 
authorities, in the regions where the Grizzly is found, will 
tell you that the true Grizzly is rare, while the Silver-tip 
or the Roach-back are common. But while the Grizzly 
exhibits great variety of color, there is nothing in the struct- 
ure or the habits of these different-colored Bears to consti- 
tute a separate species. 

It can be proved, beyond all manner of reasonable doubt, 
that all species of Bears found between the Big Horn and 


the Coast Range Mountains, east and west, and Alaska 
(208 ) 


be 


204 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


and Mexico on the north and south, occasionally breed 
together. This, of course, will account for all varieties of 
color. I myself have shot three young Bears going with 
one sow, one almost yellow, one almost black, and another 
nearly gray. I have seen ordinary Black Bears (Ursus 
Americanus) with year-old Grizzly cubs shaped differently 
from the mother, unmistakably owing both their shape and 
color to the parentage of the male Grizzly. As to shape, 
too, there is the greatest difference in specimens. Some 
Grizzlies have a formidable hump-like lift back of the head, 
extending to well over the shoulders. This gives a Bear 
what they call in the West a very hard expression, and an 
ugly customer he looks as you would care to meet. Again, 
in some this hump is scarcely noticeable, and the back is 
almost as straight as in a Black Bear. Soin paws. While 
all Grizzlies are wider in the heel than the Black Bear, there 
is a noticeable difference in the tread. Some are much 
broader across the heel than others, the foot squarer. I 
once killed two well-grown two-year-old Grizzlies together, 
who had double instead of single tusks, in both upper and 
lower jaws. This, I fancy, is rare; for my guide, who has 
killed over one hundred Grizzlies, has never seen but one 
like specimen. 

I have pretty well satisfied myself, then, that there are 
only two distinct species of Bears at present to be found 
within the geographical limits I have indicated—the Black 
and the Grizzly; and these, perhaps, being driven together 
by the pressure of civilization, are likely to undergo con- 
siderable modifications, if they survive during the next 
twenty-five years. 

The range of the Grizzly has, of course, as in the case of 
all other large wild animals, been of late years greatly 
restricted. When I made my first hunting expedition to 
the West, in 1868, it was not uncommon to find specimens 
on the plains, at a distance of many hundred miles east of 
the mountains. In 1881, when I made my second trip, the 
Big Horn Range, and the lesser ranges running out as spurs 
to the east of it, were full of Bears. Now, so far as I can 


ee ee 


THE GRIZZLY BEAR. _ 205 


learn, Bears are not common in that region. So in the 
South and West. In the unoccupied regions of Southern 
California, and northward, in the parallel valleys of the 
coast ranges, twenty years ago, the Grizzly was frequently 
to be found. In that region, last spring, I discovered for 
myself that large Bears are now rare, and all Bears 
uncommon. 

Wonderful stories have been told of the huge size and 
great ferocity of the Alaskan Grizzly; but skins from that 
region do not seem to be much larger than those procured 
from other places, and I have only seen one unusually large 
skull of a bear killed there. Of Alaska, however, I can not 
speak personally, as I have never hunted there. 

It has often been claimed by frontiersmen that Bears 
change their range during the fall months, and move down 
from the higher and less accessible regions, in search of fruit 
and berries; but I think this migration is a good deal exag- 
gerated. Whether it is that, in late years, in a great many 
of the valleys where fruit abounds, cattle have been driven 
in, or whether it is that the approach of man makes the 
game more shy, I do not know; but larger Bears seem 
seldom to leave their lonely haunts among the mountain- 
tops, or, if they do, make but short journeys downward, from 
which they return in a day. Smaller Grizzlies and Black 
Bears do seem to push their way close down to the cattle- 
ranches, in their search for fruit; but the time is past when 
a hunting-party, on their greenhorn trip, can kill, as some 
friends of mine did, ten years ago, more than a dozen Bears 
within one day’s march of the cattle-ranch. s 

In food, the Grizzly prefers variety. He is fond of meat 
when he can get it; and thus he is generally to be found not 
far away from a large band of Elk. If youstrike a good Elk 
country—that is, one in which the Elk have been for some 
time—yon are pretty sure to get good chances at Bears. But 
failing meat, he makes out very well on nuts, acorns, etc.; 


' and the fattest Grizzlies I ever killed were those that had 


been feeding for weeks on the pine-nuts that the industrious 
mountain squirrels stow away in such great plenty in the 


206 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


little colonies on the upper hill-sides. Where the nut-pine 
is plenty, you may also expect to find Bears. 

If I attempt to speak of the size of the Grizzly, I presume 
I shall quickly find myself on difficult ground. Personally, 
I believe there is a great deal of exaggeration as to his size. 
There are one or two authentic instances of Bears of enor- 
mous size and weight being exhibited; but these took kindly 
to civilization, and became fat as prize-pigs. In the wild 
state, I should say that a Bear weighing nine hundred 
pounds was a very large one indeed. The largest I ever 
killed measured from nose to heel, as the skin was pegged 
out, not unduly stretched, nine feet three inches, and I 
should say that Bear would have weighed between eight and 
nine hundred pounds. I saw, in California, the skin of 
a Bear that had become quite famous for his size and cun- 
ning, in that region of the Sierras where he had made his 
home, and this skin measured over ten feet. The Bear 
himself, I should think, must have weighed a thousand 
pounds. One other skin I recollect to have seen measured 
nearly eleven feet, though this skin seemed to me to have 
been a good deal stretched; that was the largest I ever saw. 
But if we are to be guided to our conclusions by hunters’ 
talk, you must believe that thousand-pound Bears are com- 
mon, and every man who pretends to be a hunter claims to 
have seen several Bears that weighed a great deal more 
- than that. I can only claim to have killed eighteen; but, as 
I said, I would not put the weight of my largest at more 
than eight hundred and fifty pounds; nor does my guide 
think that, of the much larger number he has killed, any 
weighed over nine hundred. 

Some good authorities have held that the Range Bear of 
the Rocky Mountains, as the Grizzly constantly is called, is 
much smaller on the main chain and its spurs than the Bear 
found in California. I think this is at least doubtful. 
There are certainly a great many small Bears in California, 
and very large Bears are as scarce there as anywhere else. 
I do not doubt that occasionally the milder climate and 
the more plentiful food of one of those California valleys 


THE GRIZZLY BEAR. 207 


produces a monster indeed; but size,-in such cases, would 
depend on circumstances more than on any peculiarity of 
breed. In the same way, on the plains, to the east of the 
mountains, large Bears have sometimes been found; but, at 
present, I think there is little doubt that the loneliest parts 
of the central chain are the best places to find Bears of a 
considerable size. 

The sportsman often notices claw-marks of Bears on trees, 
as he is riding by, as high, or almost as high, as his head, 
and, thoughtlessly, he is apt to guess at the presence of an 
immense animal who can stretch himself to such a point on 
the tree-trunk. When ‘‘ Ephraim”? first comes out in the 
spring, he always, as hunters say, measures his winter 
growth and rubs his claws down a bit on some big, rough 
pine’s side. But when this takes place, he is usually 
standing on from three to five feet of snow, which, by the 
time the hunter gets there, has melted away, and thus 
several feet have got to be taken off that Bear’s height. 

If what I have here said seems heretical to some of 
my readers, as to the Grizzly’s size, I fear what I have to 
add, as to his ferocity, will also meet with a doubtful 
acceptance. There can be no doubt that constant contact 
with white men, armed with modern weapons, has wrought 
a change in the nature of fere nature. In India, the Tiger 
no longer charges as he used to charge in Captain Rice’s 
thrilling book. Sometimes he charges still, but more often 
turns tail. The instinctive dread, born, no doubt, of bitter 
experiences, has descended from parent to child, and he is 
no longer the fearless savage that earlier accounts declare 
him to have been. So with the Grizzly; the first white men 
he met were armed with smooth-bores and flint-locks— 
inadequate weapons with which to deal with him. For fifty 
years, there was no great change in the weaponing of the 
hunter. He carried, as a rule, a muzzle-loading rifle of small 
caliber, using a light charge of powder; and as fur was 
plentiful in the country, and the Grizzly’s pelt was worth 
little or nothing, and was difficult to pack, Ephraim was 
left severely alone. The miners, too, and early explorers 


208 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


of his haunts were not after Bears, but gold, and did not 
trouble him much. During these times, he was, no doubt, 
a surly customer, and did not trouble himself to get out of 
the way. But since the war, things have changed. Men 
swarmed West, armed with repeaters. The power of the 
rifle was steadily on the increase, and the pressure of civili- 
zation felt more and more in the wildest parts of the land. 
The result of these years of attack is most evident in the 
habits of the Grizzly Bear as he is to-day. I do not for a 
moment mean to say that he is not a formidable adversary; 
but I do say, without hesitation, that the danger of his 
attack, in the present day, has been grossly exaggerated. 

I remember meeting some hunters in 1868 who had killed 
a large Grizzly. They had got him in a gully between 
them, a man on each side and the Bear down in the mid- 
dle, and they had put thirteen Henry bullets into him. 
Both of them had been nearly clawed before he gave up the 
ghost; and this experience of theirs, at that time, I am 
disposed to think was not an uncommon one. But there 
was just an illustration of the inadequacy of armament 
with which to attack such game. All who have handled 
the old Henry Model will remember just what the gun could 
and could not do. It was an excellent weapon, when cut 
off short, for Buffalo-running, and a good Indian gun, 
and as such was greatly prized during those dangerous 
times on the plains. But the charge of powder was light,. 
as was the lead, and in front of a big Bear it was, of neces- 
sity, a most unreliable weapon. Granted the sportsman is a 
fair shot, and a man of ordinary nerve, with a good weapon, 
and you materially alter the conditions in his favor. A 
fifty-caliber bullet, with a hundred grains of powder 
behind it, will stop almost anything; and a line-shot, that 
is, a Shot in line of the spine, taking effect anywhere below 
the nose or above the hips, will drop a Bear in his tracks. 

I account for a large number of the stories told of charg- 
ing Bears in this way: The game is generally sighted on the 
side of a hill. He is making his way up some ravine, and 
the hunter stalks him from below. When fired at, whether he 


. 
= 
Ey. 
4 
a) 

4 


THE GRIZZLY BEAR. 209 


is wounded or not, he will almost invariably turn downhill 
and try to get away, and in doing so, often nearly tumbles 
over his antagonist, who fancies the Bear is charging at 
him, when his sole intention is to get away as soon as pos- 
sible. If wounded, he has a peculiarly exasperating way 
of rolling over and over, like a ball, at great pace, roaring 
all the time. It is not easy to make a dead-shot at this 
sort of a bounding foot-ball, so a greenhorn is apt to wait, 
thinking that his Bear is mortally wounded, whereas, in 
fact, he may be only slightly scratched, and he will con- 
tinue his rotary movement till he strikes a bit of more level 
ground, and.then rapidly disappear. I might say here, 
in passing, that it is always better, and certainly safer, to 
stalk the Grizzly from above. 

The only Bear that deliberately charged me, charged in 
the way I have described. I was planted in the middle of 
the gully as he was coming down, and seeing me in the way, 
and cutting off his retreat, he charged for all he was worth. 

Still, making, as I do, an allowance for the hereditary 
growth of timidity in the Bear, his great strength and. 
tenacity of life will always render him an opponent to be 
attacked carefully. You do not realize what that strength 
is till you see his magnificent muscular development when 
stripped of his skin. Remove his skin, and he is start- 
lingly, horridly, like a dead man. His strength is enor- 
mous. A splendid short-horned bull, that had been imported, 
at great cost, by a cattle-raiser on Rock Creek, Montana, 
a few years ago, was found with its neck broken but a week 
after its arrival, and the tracks of a large Bear showed who 
had done the mischief. 

My hunter, in 1868, saw a Grizzly attacking a band of 


- three Buffalo bulls, and assured me that, as one of the bulls 


charged him, he saw that Bear break his mighty neck with 
one blow. I believe that story is true. And only four 
years ago, a large bull Elk, killed by our party, was carried 
away bodily, horns and all, the night after he was killed, 
by one monstrous Grizzly—carried over ground so rough 


and through timber so dense that we lost all track of the 
14 


210 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


carcass and the thief. The Elk must have weighed well 
on to a thousand pounds, and such a feat of strength seems 
almost impossible. 


As you lean over the carcass of a bes Grizzly, you realize 


the utter nonsense of attacking such an animal with a . 


knife. Even as he lies dead, you may pick out your own 
place in his huge muscular chest—he on the ground, you 
above him— it will take the blow of a strong man to drive 
your knife up to the haft in the skin and muscle; and when — 
you have done so, the chances are ten to one you don’t go 
near striking a vital place. The muscles of the arms and 
chest are simply tremendous. I have seen a Bear, when 
wounded, knock quite a large piece out of the side of a 
pine-tree with a blow of his. paw. 

As to knives, few men go properly provided. Though 
experience ought to have taught them otherwise, I find that 
professional hunters are often just as badly provided as 
the tenderfeet they conduct. It is difficult to get a really 
good piece of steel. After trying a great variety of 
makes in England and the United States, I got a num- 
ber of knives from Mr. Price, of San Francisco. I have 
used these knives now on four different trips, and they 
have given me satisfaction; but, though I gave careful 
orders as to their making, Mr. Price made the same mis- 
take that nearly all cutlers do, and forged them far too 
thick. The blades are just six inches long, one curved and 
one almost straight, with solid handles, and leather thongs 
attached, to tie them to the belt. Knives sold as hunting- 
knives in our large cities are worse than useless. The best 
way that I know of to provide one’s self with a knife is 
to buy a dozen or so of the ordinary skinning-knives, 
to be procured in any Western mining-camp or cattle- 
town. They cost about fifty or seventy-five cents apiece, 
and in the dozen you may perhaps find two good blades, 
A good stone for whetting them should also be carried, for 
if you have any real work to do, it is necessary, again and 
again, to sharpen the blades while skinning. 


" THE GRIZZLY BEAR. 211 


I would earnestly advise the beginner not to go after 
Bears alone. Even if a man is sure of his nerve, a cartridge 
will sometimes stick or miss fire. Circumstances have made 
it necessary for me to hunt a good deal by myself, and most 
of my Bears I happen to have killed when alone; but I would 
always prefer to take another man with me. A friend of 
mine, an artist, tells me that only two years ago he came 
near being killed by a sow, whose cubs he shot, while some 
distance from camp. He was painting when the Bears hove 
in sight. Heshot at acub, and thought he killed it; then shot 
the other cub and knocked it down; and then he shot the 
mother. When the first cub tried to crawl away, he shot it 
again; ditto the second cub. Then the mother woke up, and 
seeing him attacking her children, she went for him. He had 
only two cartridges leftin his repeater; he hit her with both, 
but did not succeed in killing her; and if it had not been 
for his dog, who attacked her behind while he bolted, she 
would have torn him to pieces; and, as it was, he did not 
get any one of the three Bears. He was no tenderfoot either, 
but a thorough hunter, and a man who has killed a good 
deal of game in the West. 

Personally, I have no feeling against trapping Bears. The 
Grizzly is fast becoming extinct; he must inevitably suc- 
cumb to the ranchman’s poison and the hunter’s trap. I 
would sooner, of course, stalk and kill one Bear in the 
‘*‘open”’ than kill twenty in the trap, and it is many years 
since I have shot a trapped Bear. But in view of the way 
in which all furred game is taken—in view, also, of the fact 
that all the Territories offer rewards for Bear-scalps—it is 
simply nonsense to talk about trapping Bears as being either . 
unsportsmanlike or cruel. In the long run, I think it will 
be found that forty-pound traps are the best. Smaller traps 
usually scare the game, and seldom hold a big animal. 
They are rather dangerous things to set, and a pair of 
strong iron clamps should be used to screw on and hold 
down the springs, on their being handled. It takes a little 
longer, but, unless you have had considerable experience in 
setting traps, it is worth while to take trouble to avoid 


212 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


the danger of losing a finger, or perhaps eying 4 a wrist 
crushed. 
As to the best weapon for a trip: Good weapons in pa 
variety are now to be had, and had cheaply. The improved 
Winchester, 50-110, is an excellent ‘‘saddle gun.’’ Person- 
ally, I prefer the Bullard; the action is so silent, and the 
shooting of such weapons as I have used can not be sur- 
passed. But I am ready to admit that the Winchester, 
though not so silent in its action, is a stronger rifle, and 
more convenient on horseback. It is somewhat lighter, 
too; and since all who are determined to follow their game 
up and kill it in sportsmanlike manner must be prepared 
to leave their ponies at the foot of the mountain —not on 
the side—every extra ounce to be carried is a burden. — a 
Almost as important as the rifle is the field-glass. Don’t — 
. Spare money to get the best that is to be got; and if you 
are a party of two or three, let one carry a powerful stalk- 
ing-glass. Especially if going after Sheep or game that 
is sighted at a distance, it is all-important to be able 
to make out the size of a head before you face the arduous 
climb of several thousand feet. It is disappointing workto _ 
mistake a poor head for a good one, when you areatthe 
foot of a mountain and your game is near the top, and, 
after long hours of toiling, you get within shot, and find — oe 
your coveted trophy is not worth the taking. ve 
- Be careful, too, as to your ‘‘shoeing.’’ The higher ranges = 
of our mountains, though not clathed: with ice and snow to 
the same extent as are the Alps, present some features of _ 
peculiar danger. The conglomerate formation, which is 
almost everywhere found in them, makes walking often 
perilous. However near game may be, never hurry; do not 
go up a place where you are sure you can not get down. I a8 
‘believe the danger from falls is far greater than any other — 
danger the hunter has to meet; and I know from xp = 
this danger to be considerable. — 
As to outfit, two things are all-important—good ponies, eer: 
plenty of them, and good packers. Good guides are hard 
to get; good packers are justas hard. Foratripintothe 


PTE nO ne ee 
a ag eB 8 al 


THE GRIZZLY BEAR. 213 


mountains, a hundred pounds is load enough for a pony, 
Don’t burden yourself with great variety of provisions— 
bacon, coffee, flour, dried apples, and oatmeal, with a few 
potatoes and onions, carried from the nearest settlement, are 
all you ought to want. A couple of Dutch-ovens will supply 
you with the best possible bread; and a large lean-to made 
of canvas is less cumbersome and as weather-proof as a tent. 

As to hunters, Frank Chatfield, Charles Huff, and Sam 
Aldrich are men that I have proved good and true. Their 
address is Dillworth, Gallatin County, Montana. 


My first hunting expedition included a trip from St. Paul 
(then almost the western terminus of the railroad) to Van- 
couver Island, and during that long journey I never saw a 
Grizzly. -One day, coming on the fresh trail of an immense 
fellow, the Indians promptly refused. to take any part 
whatever in investigating the neighborhood; and as I was 
a most untrustworthy shot, and had only a double-barreled 
muzzle-loading rifle, all things considered, perhaps this 
action of theirs was an evidence of their proverbial sagacity. 

My next essay was undertaken thirteen years after, in 
1881. We had—my friend and I—a magnificent trip; rode 
all over the Big Horn Mountains, and killed plenty of game 
—indeed, we could not help it. In those days the mountains 
were full of Deer, Elk, and Bears, too; butsomehow none of 
us ever saw a Grizzly. I can not to this day understand 
our want of success. Six trips I have made since then, but 
I never saw half the amount of fresh Bear-signs which we 
saw on the western slope of those mountains, on a stream 
named on the maps Shell Creek. Had I known as much as 
I know now, I could have made a much larger bag than the 
one I made on my last trip, when I had extraordinary luck, 
and killed eight Grizzlies in three weeks, our party account- 
ing altogether for twelve Bears, two only of the twelve being 
trapped. I think this is the largest authentic score I have 
heard of as being made, in late years, in so short a time. 

The first real Grizzly we did see (we once shot a mule in 
mistake for one) was in a trap. In the eastern woods, Bears 


214 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


are commonly trapped by baiting a pen, built of logs, with 
fish or offal, and setting before it a spring-trap of from 
fifteen to twenty-five pounds. I need not now speak of traps 
built of logs only, where a dead-fall is used; none of these 


are sufficiently strong to hold or to kill a moderate-sized - 
Grizzly. To these steel traps, as they are set in the East, a — 


strong chain is attached, and this ends in a ring; through 
the ring a strong stake is driven, and sometimes this is 
fastened into the ground. By this means the captive is 
held until his hour arrives. Out West the same trap is 
used; but instead of pinning it to the ground, a long chain is 
attached, and the end of this chain is made fast around a 
log with a ‘‘cold-shut”’ or split-ring, such as you put your 
pocket-keys on, and which can be fastened by hammering. 
As soon as the Bear springs the trap, with either fore or 
hind foot, and so is fast, he begins to make things lively all 
around, slashing at the trees, biting at the trap, and drag- 
ging the log. This, of course, is an awkward customer to 
pull along, especially if it is made of part of a young, tough 
pine-tree, with the branches left on. It leaves a trail that 
is easily followed. Sometimes the Bear will take in the 
situation very soon, and set himself to demolish, not the 
trap, but the thing that makes the trap unendurable. I 
have myself seen a pine-tree, some fourteen feet long and 


eight or nine inches in diameter, perfectly tough and green, - 
so chewed up that.there was not a piece of it left whole that. 


would weigh five pounds. In this case we were able to trail 
the Bear by the trap-chain, and kill him farther on. 
The best way to fix a trap is the simplest. Scoop a hol- 
low by the carcass of a dead Elix, and, drawing up a pine, 
fix the end of it firmly to the trap. The branches of the 
tree half cover the dead game, and can be easily so arranged 
that naturally the Bear will, for his convenience, approach 
on the side where the trap is set. Some old Grizzlies, how- 
ever, are extraordinarily" cunning, and though they can not 
have had any extensive experience with Bear-traps—for 
none have been taken into the West till within the last eight 
years or so—yet seem to divine just where those dangerous 


THE GRIZZLY BEAR. 215 


hidden jaws lie beneath the innocent brown pine-needles 
and bunch-grass. They will spring it again and again, and 
then feast to their heart’s content. One great fellow did 
this three times at the same carcass, and, as we could not 
induce him to come during daylight, we had reluctantly to 
give him up. After carefully examining the jaws of the 
trap, which each time held a few gray, coarse hairs and 
such small traces of skin as you see ona horse’s curry-comb, 
we came to the conclusion—and I think the correct one— 
that the old fellow deliberately sat down on the whole 
concern. 

My first Grizzly was trapped on the head-waters of the 
east fork of the Yellowstone, within some few miles of a 
mountain called the Hoodoo. That country is now too 
well known and too much hunted to afford good sport; a 
blazed trail leads up to it from the Park. Travelers who 
want to see an Elk are almost invariably advised to go up 
there. It is a sort of jumping-off place. None of the Park 
guides (I think I am correct in saying) know how to get out 
ef it unless by returning as they came—at least they did 
not two or three years ago. In 1883 there was considerably 
more game in that region than can be found there now. Our 
party, the morning after getting into camp, separated; I went 
for Sheep on the high ground, for there was plenty of sign, 
and my friend, taking an Adirondack guide we had with us, 
hunted the lower woody slopes. Toward evening I got back 
to camp, pretty well tired, having killed a ewe, for we 
wanted meat; and presently the rest of the party came in, 
almost too breathless to speak. They had seen a drove of 
Bears, so they said—five of them—‘‘and,’’ added the Adi- 
rondack guide, ‘‘two were big as Buffaloes.’’ He had never 
seen a Buffalo, and drew on his imagination for their size. 
This was exciting with a vengeance. They reported any 
amount of Bear-sign on the slopes leading to the river. It 
was just before dark that they had seen the aforesaid family, 
which, unfortunately, at once winded them, and so quickly 
tumbled down the ravine, as only Bears can tumble, and 
were lost in the cafion. We were poorly off for bait, but 


216 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


killed some Porcupine and half-roasted them (under these 
circumstances, I would have my readers remember that 
Porcupine emit a powerful odor); and to these delectable 
morsels we added parts of the Sheep. Still, it was a 
poor bait. Bears will not, as a usual thing, come toa small 
carcass. 

We waited and waited, day after day; all the Sheep 
cleared out of the neighborhood, and we, not having at that 
time one good hunter in the party, could not trail up any 
of the small, scattered bands of Elk that kept, as they gen- 
erally keep during the end of August, to the thick timber. 
Our grub gave out; our last morning came; and, save for 
that one brief moment, none of the party had ever seen a 
Grizzly. All our impediments were stowed away, and 
nothing remained to pack but the forty-two-pound traps. 
While the final tightening of the mules’ aparejos was being 
done (we had a Government outfit on that trip), our guide 
rode off to see if the luck had turned. He was to fire one 
shot if the trap had been carried away. Fancy our feelings 
when, thirty minutes later, a single shot rang out on the 
early morning air. We made time to the ridge where the 
boys had seen the Bears, and where the traps had been set 
fruitlessly for a week; and there, sure enough, he was—a 
fine fellow, too. He could not have been fast more than 
half an hour, for he had not gone far, but was ‘‘ making 
tracks,’”’ dragging a great log after him, when the hunter 
saw him; and in an hour or two, at that pace, would have 
been well on his way down the cafion. Soon as mankind 
came in sight, he took in the situation, and began to roar 
and growl. <A Grizzly’s roar can be heard a long way in 
still weather. I must, in all truthfulness, say that that 
Bear seemed to be thinking chiefly of his family. He made 


no charge; he wanted very badly to go home; and I ended - 


his career with an Express bullet. 


Not much sport in that, so it seems to me now. And yet, - 


after longing and longing even to see a big Bear, and never 
seeing him; after finding, sometimes, the ground near our 
camp all torn up over night, as we used to in 1868; after 


a eh 


THE GRIZZLY BEAR. 217 


having had three Bears cross the river I was fishing in, on 
Sunday morning (O, charitable reader, a quiet little stroll 
by a silvery, purling, singing mountain-stream, such as was 
Shell Creek, could not offend even the shade of Izaak 
Walton, though it were taken on Sunday!)—yes, I went 
down that stream not more than three miles, and in the two 
or three hours I spent in filling my pockets with the trout, 
no less than three Bears—good-sized Bears, too, by their 
tracks—crossed the stream behind me, and between me and 
camp. After such a long time of probation, it was more 
than exciting to see here, at last, the real thing—an un- 
mistakable Grizzly. There actually was such a thing as 
a Grizzly in the flesh, though we had begun to doubt it; 
not so big as a Buffalo, truly, now I came to see him in 
daylight, but weighing, I should say, fully six hundred 
pounds. 

The largest Bear any of us ever saw was.a Cinnamon that 
came within an inch of killing one of my men—a good 
hunter and first-class guide—Charles Huff. I may refer to 
the big Cinnamon, too, as an instance of the danger that 
sometimes attends trapping the Bear. He had set his traps 
near Sunlight, Gallatin County, Montana, in the spring, 
and was unable to visit them for a week. When he got to 
the bait, trap and log were gone. After taking up the trail, 
he soon found the remnants of his log chewed to match- 
wood; the Bear, evidently a large one, had gone off with 
the trap. He followed his trail as long as he had light, but 
found nothing, and had to return to camp. Next day, very 
foolishly, he took the trail again alone, beginning where he 
had left off. After a long march, he came to the steep side 
of a hill; the Bear had evidently gone up there—on the soft, 
snow-sodden ground the trail was plain. Just as the man 
was beginning to ascend, there was a rush and a roar, and 
the Bear was on him. He had no time to put his repeater to 
his shoulder, but letting it fall between his hands, pulled 
the trigger. The Bear was within a few feet of him, and by 
a great chance the unaimed bullet took him between the 
eyes. He had evidently tried the hill-side, and, worried by 


218 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA, 


the heavy trap, had come back on his trail and lain behind 
a great heap of ditt, into which he had partly burrowed, 
waiting for his enemy. Among the débris of spring-tide— 
fallen stones and uprooted trees—a Bear could easily lie hid- 
den, if he were mad and wanted to conceal himself, till the 
enemy was within a few feet. It was a terribly close shave. 

All animals are at times strangely hard to kill; this, I 
fancy, is especially true of the Grizzly. Again and again 
he will drop to a well-planted shot, as will any animal; 
nothing that runs can stand up long after it has received a 


“quartering shot—/. e., when the bullet is planted rather well - 


back in the ribs, about half-way up, and ranges forward to 
the opposite shoulder. Such a shot, especially if the bullet 
be a fifty-caliber, will drop anything; but the point of the 
heart may be pierced, or even the lungs cut, and Bears will 
often fight. 

We stalked two small Grizzlies in the ‘‘ open’”’ one even- 
ing. They were busy turning over stones, in order to get 
the grubs and worms underneath, and when we managed 
to get, unseen, within forty yards, at first fire each received 
a bullet broadside behind the shoulder; but, seemingly none 
the worse, they both turned down-hill, as Bears will when 
wounded, nine times out of ten, and made for the ravine, 
. whence they had evidently come. This gave me a nice 
open shot as they passed, and No. 1 rolled over, dead; not 
so No. 2. Before he got a hundred yards away I hit him 
three times. My rifle was a fifty-caliber Bullard repeater— 
the one I have used for years—one hundred grains of pow- 
der and a solid ball. At the fourth shot he fell in a heap, 
seemingly dead. To save trouble, and for convenience in 
skinning, we laid hold of the first one, and dragged him 
about seventy yards down the steep incline, to where the 
second lay. We got within a few feet of the Bear, when 
up he jumped, and, on one hind leg and one fore, went for 
Frank. The attack was tremendously unexpected and 
sudden. Ata glance you could see that the poor, plucky 
brute was past hurting anyone, for one arm was smashed, 
and his lower jaw was shot almost completely away; yet I 


oO Se I Te Le ee 


a a Ba a 


THE GRIZZLY BEAR. 219 


tell the simple truth when I say that for a few strides he 
actually caught up to Frank, who made most admirable 
time; then I shot the Bear dead. We examined him care- 
fully; he was a small one, not weighing more than two - 
hundred pounds, and was shot all to pieces. Each of the 
five bullets I had fired had struck him; one hip and one 
fore-arm were broken; the lower jaw was shot away; there 
was one shot in the neck, and one through and through 
behind the shoulder. It is never safe to fool with a Grizzly; 
he may run away as fast as an Elk, or he may not. 

There is something to me fascinating beyond measure in 
hunting the Grizzly, the hardest of all animals to approach, 
not excepting the Sheep. The extreme difficulty of seeing 
him or finding him in the daylight, and the lonely haunts 
he has now retired to, make him more difficult to bring to 
bag than even the Sheep. None seems in better keeping 
with his surroundings than he. It must be a poor, shallow 
nature that can not enjoy the absolute stillness and perfect 
beauty of such evenings as the hunter must sometimes pass — 
alone when watching near a bait for Bears. 

One.such experience I have especially in mind. What 
an evening it was, both for its beauty and its good fortune! 
I think of it still as a red-letter day, as 


One from many singled out, 
One of those heavenly days that can not die. 


More than two thousand feet below, the head-waters of 
the Snake gather themselves, and in its infancy the great 
river sends up its baby-murmur. Behind me, the giant 
heads of the Teton cut the rosy evening sky, sharp and 
clear, as does the last thousand feet of the Matterhorn. I 
was comfortably ensconced in the warm, brown pine-needles 
that smothered up the great knees of a gnarled nut-pine, 
whose roots offered me an arm-chair, and around me, for 
the space of two or three acres, the short, crisp green- 
sward, that is only found where snow has lain for months 
previously, was spangled and starred all over with such 
blue and white and red mountain flowers as are nowhere 
else seen in this land. 


220 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


I wish I had time and skill to write of those sweet 
mountain flowers. There is nothing quite so beautiful in 
any other Alpine land I know of, our mountains altogether 
outstripping the Swiss or Austrian Alps in the wealth, 
variety, and sweetness of their flora. I don’t know any- 
thing of botany, I am ashamed to say, but we have 
counted nearly a hundred different varieties of flowers in 
bloom during one afternoon’s tramp. Amid the lush-green 
of the rieh valleys, great masses of harebell and borage 
and gentian carpet the ground. Here and there, beautifully 
contrasting with their fresh, vivid blue, wide plots of yel- 
low, purple-centered sun-flowers stoutly hold up their 
heads, while on the border-land of these flower-beds of 
Nature, where the grass shortens in blade and deepens to 
an intense shade of green, the delicate mountain lily, with 
its three pure-white petals, fading to the tenderest green at 
the center, reaches its graceful height of some nine inches. 
_ All this one has abundant leisure to observe, as he sits well 

“to windward of the bait—in this case, a dead Elk. 

On this occasion, I occupied an unusually good point of 
vantage. My arm-chair not only commanded a little slop- 
ing prairie, but the heads of two deep ravines leading to 
it, and the crest of the ridge to my left, some three 
hundred feet above me. Hour after hour passed peacefully 
by. I tried to read Tennyson (I had a pocket volume with 
me), with but poor success, and so gave myself up to the 
beauty of the scene. I realized without effort what a bliss- 
ful thing it might be—nay, sometimes is—simply to exist. 
Such hours do not come to any of us often; but when they 
do, with them surely may come an overmastering sense of 
that great truth Elizabeth Barrett Browning so tersely 
puts: 

Earth’s crammed with heaven, 


And every common bush afire with God; 
But only he who sees takes off his shoes. 


Without cant, I trust, that evening I took off mine, as 
the old prayer came to mind: ‘‘ We thank Thee for our 
creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life.”’ 


we a ST na a a rl re elds 


THE GRIZZLY BEAR. 221 


I was ina state of stable equilibrium, bodily and men- 
tally (if it ever is given to a rector of a New York church 
so to be), when a mighty rumpus arose from the edge of the 
dark woods where our horses were lariated, two or three 
hundred yards below. On his way upward, a big Grizzly 
had been joined by a relative or acquaintance (history will 
never say which), and, as ill luck would have it, they both 
came suddenly on the horses, hidden and securely tied in a 
little hollow. From where | sat I could see nothing; but 
running down a few yards, I came in sight of two sturdy 
fellows surveying our plunging nags, as for one moment 
they evidently held a hurried consultation. The conclusion 
they arrived at was that they were out for venison, not for 
horse-flesh, especially when there was more than a suspicion 
of a dangerous smell around; in brief, they struck our trail, 
and scented the saddle, and so in an instant were off. Of 
course, we had settled on a spot toward which the wind 
blew from the ravine (Frank was a quarter of a mile away, 
on the other side of the prairie), for Bears almost always 
come up at evening from the deepest hiding-places; and 
these Bears ran off, quartering up-wind, giving me a long 
running-shot, as they made great time among the tall, rank 
grass and flowers. 

Sit down when you shoot, if it is possible. There is no 
better position than with an elbow on either knee; you can 
shoot fast and straight, and the position is high enough to 
carry your head and rifle above small inequalities of the 
ground. I let drive, and missed—shot too far ahead, I 
fancy. Always shoot too far ahead, rather than too far’ 
behind. Nine times out of ten, a bullet plumped in front 
of running game will halt it fora moment; and so now it 
turned out. The leader reared up for an instant, and the 
instant’s pause was fatal. The next bullet took him fair in 
the center of the chest. He had just time to give his solicit- 
ous companion a wipe with his paw, that would have come 
- hear wiping out a strong man, when he rolled over. 

Bear No. 2 concluded he had an engagement somewhere 
else, and was settling down to a business-like gait when he 


222 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


too came to grief. There they lay, not fifty yards apart— 
two in one evening. Not so bad—though in honesty it 
must be confessed that such shots were more than ordi- 
narily lucky. Skinning a tough hide is a trying bit of 
work; but how willingly was it undertaken! What time 
we made down the mountain, tying first our trophies— 
heads left on—securely on the cow-saddles! What can not 
a good bronco do when he wants to get back to the herd! 
For a couple of thousand feet we led the horses, and then 
fairly raced. What fun is a good scamper home when you 
have a stanch pony between your legs! The sure-footed- 
ness and hardiness of a well-trained pony are simply 
marvelous; give him his head, and if there is a ghost of a 
trail, he will take it. Many an evening did we race home 
against time, determined to get over the three miles of 
twisted and fallen timber before the last glow vanished. 
Once out of the timber, we could sober down, for all was 
plain-sailing. Three or four miles more—among old Beaver- 
meadows, where every now and then we heard, loud almost 
as a pistol-shot, the Beaver smite the water with his broad 
tail, as he went down into his own quiet, clear pool—and 
the welcome blaze of the camp-fire promised rest, after 
refreshing and sufficient toil, as well as good companionship. 

At present, the Grizzly is more commonly found in the 
Shoshone Range, in Wyoming, than anywhere else. Much 
of the country is very rough, parts of it almost inaccessible; 
- but in most localities nut-pine is plentiful on the mountains, 
and Elk are more numerous there than in any other portion 
of the United States. Here, then, the sportsman’s prospects 
of successful Bear-hunting are better than elsewhere. But 
since the spring of 1888, Territorial] law has made it impos- 
sible for any man, who does not care to be a law-breaker, to 
hunt in this splendid: ountain region. On March 9, 1888, 
it was enacted: oe 


Sxction 1. Section 1251 of the Revised Statutes of Wyoming is hereby 
amended and reénacted to read as follows: 


“SEcTION 1251. -It shall be unlawful to pursue, hunt, or kill any Deer, Elk, 
Moose, Mountain Sheep, Mountain Goat, Antelope, or Buffalo, save from Sep- 


A 
Pe, ee ee ee ae ee ey ee ee re eT 


Ee 
a 
4 3 
z. 
p 
z 
ci 


THE GRIZZLY BEAR. 223 


tember 1st to January 1st each year. And it shall be unlawful to capture, by 
means of any pit, pitfall, or trap, any of the above-named animals, at any time 
of the year. Noe non-resident of this Territory shall pursue, hunt, or kill any of 
the above-named animals by any means whatever: Provided, however, any actual 
and bona fide resident may at any time pursue, hunt, or kill any of the said 
animals for the purpose only of supplying himself and family with food; but it 
shall be unlawful to sell or offer the carcass of any such animal, or any part 
thereof, for sale, except as is provided in this chapter.” 


The effect of such a statute, I need not say, makes hunt- 
ing in Wyoming impossible—at least, impossible to honor- 
able men. The trouble is, that it does not reach the root of 
the matter. The men that destroy the game in that and 
other Territories are not the small parties of sportsmen who 
spend several weeks there in the fall. The advent of these 
is an unmixed benefit to the frontier community. Any 


properly equipped hunting-party must, of necessity, spend, 


during a six-weeks’ trip, from $500 to $2,000 in the Terri- 
tory, and in those parts where cash is scarce. Sportsmen 
who needlessly slaughter game are now fortunately rare. 
Cow Elk or ewes are scarcely ever shot, except when a 
party is hard-up for meat; and a few bull Elk and an odd 
ram falling to the sportsman’s lot do not, to any serious 
extent, diminish the game of the Territory. No, it is in the 
late fall, when the snow drives the game in large herds 
down from the mountains—drives them to the doors of the 
outlying ranches—that needless and irrevocable slaughter 
is wrought. Then the game is poor, often scarcely eatable, 
and in the deep snow whole bands of Elk and Deer are 
butchered, without chance of escape, by the ranchmen. All 
who live in the Territory know the truth of what Isay. The 
passage of such a law as this, then, is worse than useless, 
and its effect will be to stop Bear-hunting as well, though 
there is no prohibition in the law against their slaughter. 
Occasionally, the Bear is seen and stalked in the ‘‘ open;’’ 
but Lshould say that at least nine out of ten Bears that are 
killed are either trapped or shot in the early morning or 
evening, when coming to a carcass. When I say nine out 
of ten Bears killed, of course I have no reference to the 
wholesale poisoning that has totally wiped out, in large 


224 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


sections of the country, all Bears and Wolves. Cattle-men 
have had constant recourse to poison, and hence, once cattle 
arrive in a country, even in small numbers, Bears soon dis- 
appear. 

Some years ago, many Bears used to come down to feed 
on the dead salmon on the upper waters of the Snake and 
Salmon Rivers. I believe Bears are somewhat plentiful in 
those neighborhoods still; but, for some reason or another, 
large Bears were not commonly found. In Southern Mon- 
tana, Grizzlies are fairly common in the Granite Range, 
lying between the Northern Pacific Railroad and Clarke’s 
Fork; but a great deal of hunting has been done in that 


region. In Colorado, Bears are becoming scarce. Even in 


the loneliest parts of Wyoming, of late, Bears-of any size 


have been hard to find. On my last trip, I hunted perti- 


naciously, many times going away from camp with nothing 

but my blankets and a little grub, and staying away for 

days; yet I only succeeded in killing one large Bear. 
Perhaps some account of this incident may not be alto- 


gether uninteresting. We had been camping for some ~ 


_ weeks in a green hollow, almost ten thousand feet above the 
level of the sea. A grove of nut-pines sheltered our lean-to, 
where men and hunters slept, and right before our tent a 
fairy fountain rose, spread intoa clear pool, and then rushed 


down the valley. It was an ideal hunting-camp, and from — 


it, with our glasses, we could cover a great deal of country. 


During our stay in that camp we saw more than twelve- 


Bears, but, though the immediately surrounding country 
certainly had not been hunted before for many years, these 
were unusually shy. We had no traps with us, and though 
several Bears came stealthily to what was left of the one or 
two carcasses of Elk we had killed, they did not come in the 
daylight, and in vain I sat by them till late in the evening, 
or crawled noiselessly up to them in the early merning 
light. In spite of the protest of my companions, I deter- 
mined to sleep out all night by one of the carcasses, which 
had been visited by an unusually large Bear. I shall not in 
a hurry forget that evening. I rolled myself in my Buffalo- 


rhe *s = " * re 
Soe oe a ee ee 


Nl rs Nig ie 


THE GRIZZLY BEAR. 225 


robe, and lay down between two pine-trees, in a dark hol- 
low, fifteen feet or so to the windward of the bait, and | 
arranged a light cord round the carcass in such a way, at 
about three feet from the ground, that if I should fall 
asleep, and while I was sleeping the Bear came, his pressure 
on the string would awaken me by pulling at my wrist. 
About two hours after sundown, I heard the stealthy 
approach of a large animal in the underbrush; but it was so 
pitch-dark that, though the noise did not seem more than 
twenty feet away, I could see absolutely nothing; and the 
Bear must have smelt me, for he went off. Toward morn- 
ing I fell asleep, and must have slept about an hour, when 
suddenly*I felt something soft press on my head. For a 
moment I was badly scared, as I thought the Bear had mis- 
taken me for the bait, and had stepped bodily on top of 
me. In my half-awake condition, I had mistaken a big 
squirrel—that, falling off the tree, hit me full in the face—for 
the game I was after. After the sun was up, I went back 
to camp, hungry enough, and rather chilled. 

Next day 1 determined to explore a distant gulch that 
none of our party had yet visited, and taking one of the 
men and a couple of horses with me, with food for two 
days, we started off. When we made camp, we were about 
eighteen miles from our party, and found ourselves in a 
splendid valley, in which there was considerable Elk-sign. 
All that day and the next we saw a good deal of fresh Elk- 
sign, and some Bear-sign, but saw no game. Anyone who 
has hunted in the mountains will remember how many dis- 
appointments of this kind he has had. You sometimes find 
tracks only a day or so old all around you, and yet the 
game that made them seems utterly to have vanished. Com- 
ing back to camp the second evening, we almost stumbled 
over a Bear. We were walking along the edge of a deep 
ravine, and he was evidently coming out of it. Some 
twisting current of air gave him our scent, and we heard his 
*‘whiff! whiff!’ and the rattle of the stones as he bundled 
down the descent. After two fruitless days, our coffee and 


bacon were gone, and nothing remained but a little oatmeal; 
15 


226 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


but as there was no meat in camp, I determined to try it 
one day longer. ‘‘ Patience and perseverance will bring,” 
they say, ‘‘a snail to Jerusalem; and it certainly is the 
only secret of luck that a hunter can command in the West, 
to-day. On the third day, when going along an Elk-trail, 
many miles from our little temporary camp, in thick brush, 
about seventy-five yards away, I suddenly saw the fore legs 
of an Elk. Stepping a few feet out of the trail, 1 got a 
glimpse of his shoulder, just as he winded us and bounded 
down the mountain. Fortunately, the trees opened up a 
little and gave me a chance-shot. 1 was not certain whether 
I had hit him or not; but following a few yards down the 
hill, I saw him lying in a heap—a splendid bull. ~ We took 
what meat we needed for ourselves and our friends across 
the mountain, and having blazed a trail for some two miles, 
so that we could on our return easily find him in spite of 
the dense timber, with light hearts we made our way back to 
camp. There a high time awaited us, for none of the party 
in our absence had succeeded in killing any game. 

In the course of four or five days, I determined to revisit 
the carcass, and sit by it in the evening, hoping to kill a 
Bear. The Elk lay, as I say, in thick timber. It was 
between five and six in the afternoon when I got within half 
a mile of the spot. We picketed the horses, and approached 
the carcass carefully. When within fifty yards, I saw the 
sign of a good-sized Bear. The earth and the stones and 
roots had all been torn up, and it was evident that 
‘‘Ephraim’’ was preparing a cache in which to secrete his 
find. The signs were fresh, and I knew that in all probability 
the Bear lay close to the carcass. ‘The timber was so dense 
that when within twenty feet of the Elk I could still see noth- 
ing. And here we reaped the advantage of having blazed the 
trail. No matter how carefully the position where the Elk 
lay had been marked, it would not have been possible, 
without the blaze on the trees, to note the exact spot, and 
almost certainly our game would have been scared from the 
careass. A few feet more, and through the brush I saw a 
great mound of earth. We measured it afterward; it was 


A RUDE AWAKENING 


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pt 


i 


git 


7 


tes Mah 


THE GRIZZLY BEAR. (227 


more than twelve feet long and over five high—logs and 
stones all piled on top of the carcass. I had scarcely time 
to notice this before there was a rush in the underbrush, 
and the head and shoulders of an old Grizzly appeared 
within a few feet of my face. He had been dozing beside 
the carcass, and hearing, when I was very close, my cautious 
footstep, he rushed forward to see who was threatening his 
prize. It was as impossible for him to see us as for us to 
see him, till we were within a few feet of each other. Had 
the Bear rushed straight on, I do not think I would have 
had time to shoot; but that is what a Grizzly does not do, 
whatever men may say. He, like all his kind, reared up 
for a moment, to have a better look at us; and scarcely 
waiting to put my rifle to my shoulder, I gave him a ‘‘ line- 
shot’’ about eight inches below his nose. He sunk down, 
dead as a stone. I never saw a live Grizzly so close before 
—the hair was fairly singed by my powder—and I certainly 
have no desire to see one any closer. This habit of rearing 
up gives the hunter, if he be at all cool and his rifle a 
good one, all the chance that he can require in his favor. 
Another curious thing about this splendid animal is that, 
except when close up to his enemy, he almost always falls 
to shot, even though the wound received may not be 
fatal. He falls and roars as the bullet strikes him, and 
thus increases the odds against himself. This Bear, the 
last I have killed, had an unusually fine coat. He had the 
largest head for his size I ever saw, and when the skin 
was pegged out, without undue stretching, it measured 
eight feet six inches across the arms, from claw to claw. 


_ THE POLAR BEAR. 


By SERGEANT Francis Lona, of the Greely Arctic Expedition, and GEORGE 
S. McTavisu, of the Hudson’s Bay Company. 


@7,HEN the projectors of the Lady Franklin Bay 
\//\J enterprise were planning their explorations in 
the polar regions, I was selected and detailed to 
accompany the expedition as a hunter. My long 
experience in hunting the big game of the Far West proved 
of great value to me in this service, and yet, in common 
with other members of the expedition, and with the Eski- 
mos whom we employed to assist us, I had great difficulty 
in securing sufficient fresh meat to feed the brave men who 
manned our ships, after we entered the regions of eternal 
snow and ice. Still, the plan of providing a special detail 
to do the hunting proved a wise one; for, without the fruits 
of the chase which we secured under such hardships and 
perils, none of us could have lived until the arrival of the 
rescuing party. 

Having been requested to write of the Polar Bear, I have 
condensed as much as possible the information I gathered 
during my three years of battling with icebergs and frost, 
and shall make such notes thereon, and describe such of my 
varied experiences in hunting that animal, as I deem of the 
greatest interest to sportsmen and the general public. 

Looking back over that period of three years, during 
which time we were exposed to the icy blasts of the polar 
regions, were compelled to live on reduced rations, and even 
to face starvation on an icy desert, I can readily realize 
that, without the most strenuous efforts in the way of 
hunting and of turning the resources of that inhospitable 
waste to the most rigid account, we should have found the 


end of our scant larder much sooner than we did. 
(229) 


230 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA, 


Though my hunting was not confined to the Polar Bear, 
I learned much of the habits of that unfamiliar creature, 
and of his trickery, from coming into frequent contact with 
him. He makes his home among the ice-fields of the North, 
and is a restless animal; like the Gypsy, he lays down to 
rest unprotected from the howling blasts of winter, his bed 


being the solid ice and his shaggy coat his only shelter. 


About four hours each day is the longest time he allows 
himself for rest from his patient and persevering search for 
food, for his cavernous maw and his voracious appetite tax 
his skill and time to keep them supplied with fish and flesh. 

In his hunt for game, the night as well as day is favor- 
able to him, the reflection from the ice, at night, being suffi- 
cient light to enable him to sight and steal upon his prey. 
The Seal is the chief source of food for the Polar Bear, 
though he also preys on the Walrus and on various fishes. 

On one occasion, I was ordered to Alexandria Harbor, in 
company with two Eskimos, to investigate the chances of 
procuring game there. We had been informed by the 
natives that this locality abounded in game, and being 


short of rations, it was deemed expedient to send a party 


there to replenish our meat supply. On March 15th, while 
at the Harbor, I started alone in search of a Bear. Having 
seen Bear-tracks the day before, I was unable to sleep 
during the night, my mind being occupied with brilliant 
schemes for a Bear-hunt in the morning, and I was 
extremely anxious to succeed in allaying the hunger of my 
comrades. However, success seemed not to attend my 
efforts. I tramped the entire day through snow and over 
ice, endeavoring to find the trail of the Bear and to figure 
out the course he had taken. I found his tracks occasion- 


ally, but they were filled with snow, and at times entirely 
obliterated, so that it was impossible to follow them. 


Night coming on, and being discouraged at my fruitless 
attempt to secure the object of my dreams, I started to 
retrace my steps toward our temporary camp. On my 
retreat, I had to travel nearly half a mile out of my course, 
to avoid a large ice-floe, which had lodged there the previ- 


pore ee ee eT 


ee Pea eS 


ee ee Pe 


oo 7 


THE POLAR BEAR. 231 


ous winter, and which was piled to a height of nearly three’ 
hundred feet above the surrounding ice. I was advancing 
directly toward open water, in my efforts to obviate the 
necessity of climbing the ice-floe, and being in doubt as to 
the best course to pursue, hesitated a moment to reflect, 
when my attention was attracted toa dark object on the 
ice on the opposite side of the open water. I at once’ saw 
that it was a Seal; but being in a perilous position and out 
of rifle range, it would have been useless for me to attempt 
to secure him. While momentarily reflecting, being reluc- 
tant to give up the hunt with game in sight, I was surprised 
to see the familiar white form of a great Polar Bear one or 
two hundred yards in the rear of the Seal, and moving cau- 
tiously toward it.. This increased my eagerness to reach 
the scene of action, and, if possible, to get in a shot, for 
here was meat for all our party for several days. But I was 
absolutely powerless, and must simply see the game come 
and go, while I gazed in anxious curiosity at his strange 
movements. 

The Bear crouched low on the ice, and crept in the direc- 
tion of the Seal at an extremely slow pace, until he had 
arrived within, I should think, thirty feet, when, with a 
bound forward, he pounced upon his victim. A short 
struggle followed, and the Bear was victor. 

I am led to believe that the Seal can only see in front of 
him, and that he depends entirely on his sense of hearing ~ 
to protect him from approach from the rear. The Bear 
being aware of the weakness of his victim, is enabled, from 
his color and soft tread, to pursue his tactics successfully. 

It is claimed by some hunters that the Polar Bear is a 
herbivorous animal; but vegetation and. animal life are 
equally scanty to the northward from Cape Sabine. So far 
as our observations went, we can not substantiate the writ- 
ings of those authors who state that vegetation forms a part 
of the Bear’s subsistence. 

The White Bear breeds in the southern portions of the 
Arctic Circle, and their young do not accompany them 
when, in spring, they journey northward. Lieutenant 


232 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Lockwood, in May, 1882, noticed Bear-tracks going north- 
eastward on the north coast of Greenland, in 83° 3’ north— 
the highest latitude in which signs of this animal have ever 
been seen. They are not vicious except when wounded, 
and will invariably take to water when alarmed, if there be 
any in the vicinity. If the Bear succeeds in reaching the 
water, the hunter’s opportunity is usually lost. Even a 
telling shot will avail him nothing, for should he succeed 
in killing the Bear, he can rarely recover the carcass from 
among the floating ice. The Bear, not being able to remain 
long under the water, alternately dives and reappears on 
the surface of the water in order to evade the hunter. 

While at Cape Sabine, in latitude 74° 32° north, 19° west, 
after our party had made the perilous journey, reaching the 
farthest north, and had returned in the hope that a relief 
party would be awaiting us, our scanty remnant of food 
was stored away in a rude stone house. We experienced 
continued annoyance from Bears breaking into our meat- 
house while we were asleep, and stealing what little meat 
we had. . : 

On April 11th, Sergeant Brainard, one of our party, had 
occasion to visit Cemetery Ridge, a place a short distance 
back of our camp, where our dead comrades were buried. 
Returning, he was surprised by a Bear advancing toward 
him. ‘Being unarmed, he hurried to camp, and being 
already sadly reduced by hard work, starvation, and ex- 


posure, fell exhausted in the tent, exclaiming, ‘“‘A bear! a 


bear !”’ 3 

We were elated at this prospect of obtaining food. 
Lieutenant Kislingbury, Jens Christiansen, an Eskimo, and 
myself seized the guns and started in the direction indi- 
cated by Brainard. We had gone but a few hundred 
yards when Kislingbury, weak from want of food, became 
exhausted, and gave up the chase. Jens and I continued, 
fully determined upon giving Bruin a hard task to save his 
life, should we come within rifle range. We moved briskly 
forward, scanning the ice-fields closely and eagerly, fearing 
lest he should discover us first, and thereby evade our attack. 


i : 


ite la aa tl 


a all at aces “ 


THE POLAR BEAR. 233 


Directly in our front was a large ice-floe. We consulted a 
moment as to the best way to overcome the difficulty of 
getting to the opposite side, when we discovered a fore leg 
of the animal moving cautiously up over the ice. An instant 
later, his head appeared, and then he saw us. Dropping 
suddenly back, he retreated, without giving us a shot. 
Knowing from experience the tactics that he would pursue, 
we at once decided to separate, one going south and the 


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% “e Ae x a es eg ; #5 perl eye Epes: ane 
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Shipped. 


other north. around the ice-pack. We knew that by this 
means one or the other of us could cut him off before he 
could reach water. which was about three miles away. 

We pushed forward over the rough ice, occasionally 
sighting the Bear, which seemed to be making the best time 
possible. After we had gone a mile or more in a direct line, 
we noticed that the Bear had slackened his pace, but was 
still moving toward ice-packs and open water, which, if he 
reached them, would prevent us from getting him. We 
noticed, however, that we were gaining rapidly on him, and 


234 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


having the advantage of a promontory of ice which would 
obscure his view of us, we redoubled our speed, when, 


arriving on smooth ice again, we found ourselves within 


easy rifle range of the Bear. Jens, the Eskimo, coming out 


first and being nearest to him, got the first shot, striking — 


the animal in the fore paw. The wound made no percepti- 
ble change in the Bear's movements, except that he occa- 
- sionally raised his paw and shook it. He kept on at a 


shambling trot, wallowing over the rough surface of the ice _ 


at the best speed he could command. Seeing that it now 
depended on me, and knowing that a few steps more would 


bring him to water, I took off my glove, dropped on one 


knee, and taking a careful aim, fired, striking him in 
the side behind the shoulder. He fell, but got up and 
started on, when I fired a second shot, which took effect 
just back of the ear, lodging in the brain and killing him 
instantly. 

Thus ended a most exciting chase, which resulted in the 
addition of four hundred and fifty pounds of fresh meat to 
our stores, which prolonged our lives for several days, and 
without which probably none of us would have been alive 
when the relief party arrived. PL 


My first introduction to a White or Polar Bear was in 
1878, in Hudson Straits. One morning while our ship was 
sailing through floes of ice—fortunately not very heavy, 
but sufficiently dangerous to make us keep a strict watch, 
and to require us to give them as wide a berth as possible— 
I noticed, as one large floe passed our counter, a strange 
object on it, and calling the attention of the first officer, an 
old whaler, was informed that it was a sleeping Bear. Un- 
fortunately for us, our Captain had been on deck all night, 
and had just gone to sleep, so we were not allowed to dis- 
turb him by discharging fire-arms, for his wrath would have 
been more potent than even that of a wounded Bear. The 
consequence was that both Bear and Captain were undis- 
turbed. . 


a a ae eS ef ieee bs 


a inte 


eka ae ies 


THE POLAR BEAR. 235 


Since then I have hunted and killed a number of Polar 
Bears on land, and have heard many strange stories con- 
cerning them from Indians and Eskimos. ~The result of 
some of my observations and experience I now commit to 
paper, for the benefit of those who have not had similar 
opportunities of studying this strange denizen of the hyper- 
borean regions. 

The White Bear is an amphibious animal, but seems 
more at home on icebergs and ice-floes than gn land. The 
reason is obvious. Food of the kind that he prefers is much 
more easily obtained on floating ice than on land, so that 
the latter is seldom approached by the Polar Bear, save at 
the time when the females proceed to winter quarters in the 
interior, some distance from the sea-coast, for the purpose 
of hybernating and bringing forth their young. This occurs 
in the latter part of September or beginning of October. 
The male Bear accompanies the female until he has seen her 
domiciled, and then returns to the coast, usually in Novem- 
ber or December. No sooner does he reach his former 
habitat than he proceeds out to sea to hunt and fish for his 
living. The she-Bears, with their cubs, return to the coast 
in March, April, or May. The usual number of cubs at 
a birth is two—sometimes there is only one, and rarely 
three. Females are lean in spring, and of course are more 
aggressive when taking care of their young than at other 
times. 

White Bears, as a rule, try to evade the hunter; still, 
there are individuals that will attack first. Although the 
Polar Bear is synonomously termed the White Bear, they 
are not all white. Those that are most likely to run away 
from the hunter are pure white. From the smallest to the 
largest size, these White Bears are timid, and I have noticed, 
on their being killed, that they are the fattest. The most 
dangerous and aggressive kind, other than females with 
cubs, is the large-sized male Bear of a yellowish, dirty color, 
and an Indian usually leaves this kind alone, unless he has 
a companion, or has perfect confidence in his own nerve and 
his weapon. Another sort is the small-sized Bear, of both 


236 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


sexes, neither white nor yellow, but rather dirty looking; 
and these are likewise the best runners. 

It is an error to suppose that Bears, because of their 
great size, can not run swiftly. They are remarkably fleet- 
footed, and have often overtaken Indians in a fair race, and 
killed them. Their speed, however, depends greatly on the 
condition they are in. If fat, their rate of progression is 
slower; but if lean and hungry, their fleetness of foot is 
almost incredible. These last- are, however, rarely met 
with on land. Those I have seen there were of the more 
timid sort. 

Sometimes Bears advance to the attack, but on finding 
the hunter determined and bold, they wheel about and run 


away. Once they do so, their chances of escape are small, © 


if the hunter be cool and a good shot, as they seldom sum- 
mon up resolution to face the hunter a second time, unless 
badly wounded by a bullet. 

The general opinion is that White Bears are only vulner- 
able when shot behind the ear. This is a most absurd 
error. <A bullet from a large bore, heavily charged modern 
rifle, if planted behind the shoulder, is equally effective on 


the Polar Bear as on any other large animal, and one inany — 
part of the body is almost certain to bring him down and : 


prevent his escape. 

I have never weighed any carcasses of Polar Bears, but, 
as nearly as I could estimate, those I have killed would 
vary from two hundred to six or seven hundred pounds. 

The food of the White Bear is principally Seal, although 
I have seen one eating grass; and several deposits I have 
examined showed plainly that.,they do not subsist entirely 
on animal food. I have also examined the contents of their 
stomachs, and they also attest this fact. 

Their modus operandi of catching the Seal is as follows: 
The Bear having discovered a Seal asleep on an ice-floe, 
immediately slips into the water if he himself be on another 
ice-floe. Diving, he swims under water for a distance, then 
reappears and takes observations. Alternately diving and 
Swimming, he approaches close to his victim. Before his 


es A ee ee, ee eD,. Sel eat es 


Cee a ee RN ae ey Ae ame oe CEL ee SOT Tee, CIES ET | Rae 


THE POLAR BEAR. 237 


final disappearance, he seems to measure the intervening 
distance, and when he next appears it is alongside of the 
Seal. Then, either getting on the ice or pouncing upon the 
Seal as it tries to escape, he secures it. 

Seals are not his only animal food, however, as I have 
frequently noticed his claw-marks on the backs and sides 
of the White Porpoise. In some cases, the Bear seems to 
have sprung on the Porpoise’s back, but to have failed to 
retain his hold, no doubt owing to the Porpoise having 
dived, as the claw-marks extended from the fins clear down 
to the tail on both sides. In other cases, the Bear appears 
to have succeeded, at the first spring, in getting his teeth 

planted, thus paralyzing the Porpoise and preventing its 
- diving until he has obtained a good mouthful. Porpoises, 
when harpooned in the back, always swim with the head 
out of water for some distance, and the bite of a Bear seems 
to have the same effect on them. This habit would prob- 
ably enable the Bear to take several mouthfuls; at any rate, 
if he only takes one, it is sufficient to leave a large wound 
in the back of the Porpoise. I have seen several Porpoises 
thus marked, some of the wounds only partially healed up. 
The White Bear is also fond of fish. 

In Hall’s ‘‘ Life of the Eskimo” there is an instance 
given of a White Bear having thrown stones from a cliff on 
the head of a Walrus that was lying on the ice beneath; 
and I have heard a similar story related by an Eskimo, with 
only this difference, that instead of stones the Bear is said 
to have used a large piece of ice, which he dropped from an 
iceberg on the sleeping Walrus, stunning it so that he could 
get down and seize it by the throat. 

Although the Polar Bear eats dead animals, such as 
Seals and Porpoises, he will not eat a man who has presence 
of mind to simulate death. Numerous instances are cited, 
by Arctic travelers and Indians, in proof of this assertion. 
An old Indian who had been scalped by a Bear told me this 
story: 

‘“‘ Traveling by myself, I espied a Bear, and, putting fresh 
powder in the pan (he had a flint-lock gun), I ran toward 


238 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


him. The Bear also ran, but I got close enough to him to 
fire, which I did, and the Bear dropped dead, as I thought. 
Without loading—truly, I was a fool—I walked up and 
struck him on the head with the butt of my gun. Instead 
of being dead, he was only stunned, and the blow revived 
him. Getting up, he struck me on the head in return, tear- 
ing the scalp down over my face and filling my eyes with 
blood. I fell, and exclaimed, ‘Go away, Bear, you have 
killed me!’ The Bear then ran away, and I lay quiet fora 
long time. Then, cleaning the blood from my face, I looked 
around cautiously, and saw him a long way off. I got up, 


and managed to walk to my tent; but (taking off his cap) — 


you can see how he marked me, yourself.”’ 

A young Indian, three years ago, when out hunting, 
saw a Bear and two cubs. Being of an adventurous dis- 
position and desirous of proving his manhood, he attacked 
the Bear; but, unfortunately, his gun, a double-barreled 
percussion, missed fire, and flight was his only recourse. 
The Bear, leaving the cubs, started in pursuit, caught and 
knocked him down. Fear kept the Indian quiet, and the 
Bear, after turning him over and walking round him sey- 
eral times, growling, turned back toward her young. The 
Indian got up and ran, which the Bear no sooner noticed 
than she started in pursuit, overtook and threw him down 
a second time, giving him a severe bite in the shoulder. 
She repeated her growling performance, and the Indian lay 
still till she had gone a considerable distance. Then, get- 
ting up, he threw away his gun and ran to a tree, up which 
he climbed, just in time to escape the Bear, who a third time 


pursued him. She stood on her hind legs and shook the © 


tree; but the Indian held on till she got: tired and walked 
away, looking back every few minutes to see if he had 
descended. When she disappeared, he crawled down, 
picked up his gun, and went home, a sadder if not a wiser 
man. 

‘A third instance was told me: An Indian and his boy, 
twelve years old, were on the coast together. They saw 


a Bear coming, and the father told the boy not to fire until _ 


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THE POLAR BEAR. 239 


after he had done so. They both lay down behind differ- 
ent piles of drift-wood. When the Bear approached, the 
boy got flurried, fired, and missed. The father then fired 
hurriedly, and also missed. Before he could reload, the 
Bear knocked him down, seized him by the foot, and 
dragged him a few yards, but without hurting him. The 
old man kept still, and pretended to be dead, till the Bear 
had gone a sufficient distance to allow him to reload his 
gun before it could return. As in the preceding case, the 
Bear, seeing the man get up, turned back; but the Indian 
was prepared, and shot him dead. ‘‘ After which,” said . 
he, ‘‘ I gave my son a sound thrashing for not doing as I 
told him.”’ 

Very few Bear-skins are obtained from the Eskimos, as 
they cut up nearly all they get, and use them for pads to 
enable them to hunt Seals more successfully on the ice. 
The Eskimo approaches the Seal, crawling, imitating its 
exact movements and its cry. As he is liable to slip on 
the smooth ice when dragging himself along, he prevents 
this by sewing a piece of Bear-skin to his clothing, over his 
shoulder, arm, and hip. The hair of the Bear-skin sticks 
to the ice, and by its aid the hunter can move much more 
regularly, and can approach close enough to shoot the Seal 
dead; while, if compelled to shoot from a greater distance, 
he would be liable to simply wound it, when it would dive 
into its hole and escape. 

The Eskimos have a superstition that if a White Bear 
kills one of their number, the dead man’s relatives must 
turn out, follow, and kill the Bear; otherwise he is sure to 
kill someone else. A case of this double killing rarely 
happens; yet there are several stories of this kind current 
among the natives. 

The Eskimos frequently hunt the Bear with spears; 
and when two skillful spearmen attack even the largest 
Polar Bear, it is an easy matter for them to dispatch him. 
One takes the right and the other the left side. The 
first hunter merely acts as a decoy, and pricks the Bear 
slightly. No sooner does the Bear feel the spear-point 


‘ 


240 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


than he turns on his assailant, when the second Eskimo, 
who is close on the other side, then gives the home-thrust. 

The Eskimos do not often eat the flesh of the Bear— 
perhaps never, except when pressed by hunger. The 
Indians eat it, and I once lived for several days on the flesh 
of an old White Bear. It is tough, rather strong in flavor, 
but palatable. That of the cubs, on the contrary, is good 
eating, and I have enjoyed several good meals off them. 
Prejudice is hard to overcome, but hunger sometimes over- 
rules it. 


PHOTO-ENG LON, 


A POLAR HUNT.* 


i Ge could not be said to have dawned when we awoke, 
i} for the sun had not been seen in three months, and 
iL we were in the midst of the polar winter. Yet the 
bitter cold of the Arctic morning, all the more 


Sent noticeable through the fires burning low, roused us 


from our slumbers. 

It was too cold at night to undress; therefore, after a 
hasty breakfast had been demolished, all that had to be 
done in the way of a toilet was to don our fur costumes, 
of Eskimo manufacture, and, guns in hand, we left the 
ship. White Bears had been seen in the vicinity of the 
ship, and now we were after their meat as well as their 
hides. 

A superstitious halo seems to enshroud the Bruin of the 
Arctics. He is endowed, in the minds of some people, with 


supernatural attributes wonderful to contemplate. Indeed, 


he appears to savor more of the supernatural than the 
natural. While he is undoubtedly a terrible fellow to 


encounter single-handed, yet, if a choice were given me, I 
should prefer an encounter with him rather than with a 


Grizzly of the Rocky Mountains. But to our adventures. 

Will (my chum) and I had been followed by half a dozen 
of the Eskimo sledge-dogs, and these careered about on 
every side, hundreds of yards away, clearly showing that if 
a Bear were snoozing anywhere in the township (Jove! ’'m 
forgetting where we were), he would run the risk of disturb- 


ance. Will carried a heavy English Express rifle—the cali- 


ber of which I have forgotten-—carrying an explosive ball, 
while my shooting-tube was a 45-90 Winchester repeater, 
that threw an expansive bullet. Anything that this bullet 


* A friend who recently spent some months at Hudson’s Bay sends me this sketch, and 
modestly requests that his name be withheld.—Eprror. 
16 ( Al ) 


242 BIG GAME OF NORItH AMERIOA. 


struck, in the animal line, had a large aperture made in its 
anatomy. Besides this, we each carried a Colt’s Frontier 
revolver (warranted to floor you every time) and murderous 
looking bowies, for close quarters. Yes, we were out for 
scalps. anc 

An ice-field is not a pleasant promenade; there is noth- 
ing billiard-table-like in its surface, and what with climbing 
*bergs and getting over crevasses in the best fashion pos- 
sible—above all, the uncertain light—our progress was slow. 

Hello! That dog seems as excited as if he’d struck a 
bone. What the deuce is up! Will says a Bear, and 
adds: ‘‘I think we’d better go back to the ship; I-l-’'m 
cold.” 

‘* Nonsense,” I say; ‘‘ you’ll have all the crew laughing 
at you. Come on.”’ 

Yes, it was a Bear, standing back on an enormous 
*berg, and striking out at the yelping pack that surrounded 
him with his awful-looking. paws—a great yellow brute, 
with discolored fangs and cavernous mouth, from which 
issued clouds of steam-like vapor. I too wished I were at 
home. | 

‘“W-W-W-W-Will, are you ready ?”’ I managed to ask. 

‘* W-w-w-wait till I get off my g-g-glove; d—n it.”’ 

** W hat’s the matter ?”’ 

‘*[’ve blistered my fingers on the trigger-guard.”’ 

‘“Any man,” I said, with withering sarcasm, ‘‘ who 
doesn’t know enough not-to touch iron when it’s forty-five 
below zero, without a glove on, isn’t qualified to pound 
sand.”’ : 

He withered under my cutting words, and tried to brace- 
up for the impending ordeal. 

I looked at the Bear. There he still stood, and I thought — 
it strange, for ’'d given him lots of time to get away. There 
was nothing for it but to fire now. Will’s eye was on me, 


and he was laying low to get even. I knelt down and aimed 


carefully, my companion doing likewise. It’s a mighty 
different thing shooting at a target and drawing a bead on 
a Bear that can just claw you to pieces and eat you after- 


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A POLAR HUNT. 243 


ward. lLached with longing for him to run away, but he 
seemed in no mood for running. It was mean of him not 
to, for I hadn’t done anything to cause him to wait for me. 

One, two, three! 

Bang! bang! 

The Bear gave a low moan and sank on the ice, blood 
pouring from his chest, and the dogs worrying the inanimate 
carcass. We knew then that he was dead. 

**T don’t think much of Polar Bears, anyhow,’’ quoth 
Will; ‘‘we’re their medicine, every time. Didn’t I just 
drop him !”’ 

‘‘You be hanged,” said I, indignantly; ‘‘Z killed that 
Bear.”’ 

‘*No, you didn’t; I killed him.”’ 

‘* Well, don’t let us quarrel. Come and look at him.”’ 

On one side of the breast-bone a hole twice the size of 
one’s fist could be seen; on the other, the explosive bullet 
had done its work. We had both killed the Bear. 

‘Will, we’re Bear exterminators from Chicago. Our 
mission on earth is to clear out the entire genus Ursus 
maritimus. Forward! march! Our task is but begun.’ 

We kicked the dogs off the carcass, and scrambled on. 
The Bears seemed to know that two Illinois terrors were 
out, for they laid low, and for some time we could see none. 
After another hour’s scrambling, we saw one waltzing in the 
distance, and the dogs sighting at the same time, soon 
brought him toa stand. This second Bear wasn’t as big as 
the other, but he seemed far more active, and, before we got 
near, had managed to reach two of the dogs—with what 
result need not be said. 

We were cool and collected. Why should we fear? 
Hadn't we just killed one Bear, off-hand? Will gave the 
signal this time; but, hang it! that Bear didn’t drop. He 
charged through the dogs and came straight for us. I 
plunged in another shot, and missed; so did Will. The 
Bear was thirty yards away, and I had only two shots left, 
for I had forgotten to recharge my magazine. Will had 
none. Bang! Another miss, and one shot left! Will was 


244 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


trying to hide in a crevasse. I wanted to badly, but 
couldn’t, for I scale one hundred and ninety pounds, and 
take a big hole. The Bear was now ten yards away. 
Should I try my last chance? No; best wait until he was 
closer, and then one shot more. I knew the revolvers 
would be of no more use than pea-shooters against the 
brute. 

How I wished I'd stayed at home, and not come on this 
fool’s errand! I knew I had to die some day, but it 
wasn’t nice to think of being masticated by a big, dirty- 
looking, fish-eating Polar Bear. And then to have the 
Foxes gnawing at my bones, and fighting as to which 
should get the ones with the most marrow! Oh, dear! how 
I did want to go home! 

I glanced at Will. He was pale as death. The hole 
wasn’t large enough to cover him, and the worm had 
turned. He knelt on the ice, knife in one hand, Colt in the 
other. As I looked, he fired a shot that I should think 
went about ten feet over the Bear’s head, and the revolver 
nearly jumped out of his hand; but the intention was good, 
and I forgave him. 

‘*Will,”’ I said, ‘‘ ?ve been mean to you sometimes, and 
you've played it low-down on me on several occasions, but 
now that we’re going to be coffined together in a measly 
Bear, let’s forget our differences, and forgive one another.” 

** All right, old boy,’’ he answered; ‘‘adieu until we 
meet again—in the interior of the Bear.”’ 

The brute was but five feet from the muzzle of my rifle 
now, and as he came on, head well up, I aimed at the base 
of the throat, pulled the trigger, and the next thing was 
knocked over backward, with the Bear atop of me. 

I have suffered terrors before. I have been in a railway 
wreck; have even acted as marker in a ladies’ revolver 
shooting-match, and, after enduring many agonies of appre- 
honsicn, have received a bullet in the leg from a fair cham- 
pion’s weapon; I have been asked ‘‘my intentions’? by a 
muscular papa, but I never suffered before as I did there 
for a few seconds, which seemed to me so many hours. I 


A POLAR HUNT. 245 


knew the Bear was dead, but Will thought he was eating 
me, and bullets from his revolver were plowing around in 
horrible fashion. It was hard, to have escaped the Bear, 
and then to have one’s friend let daylight into one! 

At length I got my mouth elear of. fur, and contrived to 
yell that all was right, and Will ceased firing. 

After some hard work, he got the carcass off me, and I 
was free, though soaked with blood from head to foot. 

My shot had taken effect in the center of the Bear’s 
chest, and caused instant death, but the impetus had car- 
ried the body against and over me. 

Will and I have a hide each, and you should just hear 
him tell of our exploits on that memorable day. 


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THE BLACK BEAR. 


By Cou. GeorcE D. ALEXANDER. 


Zi HE Black Bear of North America resembles the 

\\S Brown Bear of Europe more closely than that of 
any other of the Bear species. Our Ursus Ameri- 
% canus never attacks a human being unless provoked 
or wounded; the Brown Bear is more ferocious, and is often 
the aggressor. The formation of the head of the Black 
Bear is one of the noted peculiarities that distinguishes 
it from the Brown Bear. The curve of the facial expression 
from the top of the head to the nose is this distinction, not 
unfrequently rendering the shot of the hunter ineffectual. 
A bullet striking the front of the head of this Bear will, if 
not driven by a heavy charge of powder, almost invariably 
glance off, causing only a momentary stunning, from which 
it rises with increased ferocity; and unless the hunter is 
close enough to use his bowie or cane knife, he may be 
either fearfully lacerated or killed. 

The Black Bear lives to the age of some twenty years in 
captivity; how much longer in its wild state, I am unable 
to say. It is extremely timid, dreading no animal so much 
as man. Its hearing is so acute that the slightest noise, 
the mere cracking of a dry twig, catches its attention. Itis 
seldom still, except in its bed or lair; the head in constant 
motion, to catch the least sound of danger. 

The female produces two young in February, called cubs. 
The mating-season is in July and August. At three years 
old, the female is usually a mother. The male is not a 
monogamist, like the Lion or Tiger. 

In size, the male is much the larger; when fully grown, 


is about three feet high, and often pulls the scales to some 
(247) 


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248 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


six to seven hundred pounds. The female never attains to . 


such size and weight. 

Once, in an overflow in the Arkansas bottom, I found 
three cubs floating on a log, too small to have teeth large 
enough to bite. I supposed they belonged to two ‘mothers, 
since I had never before found more than two following the 
dam. 

The Black Bear isan omnivorous animal. When pressed 
by hunger, it will eat anything that is edible. It hibernates 
during a part of the winter; that is, if fat, it seeks caves or 
hollow trees in which to lie—sometime in the month of 
December, in southern latitudes, earlier in more northern— 
until the warmth of spring makes it come out in quest of 
food. During all this time, it lies almost dormant, sucking 
its feet like the Opossum and Raccoon, as it were to exist off 
its own fat. 

In the wide bottoms of the Mississippi River and its 
many tributaries, the male Bear will hibernate under large 
piles of cane, which, like a hog, it gathers in some dense 
cane-brake, where it is not likely to be disturbed. 

When America was discovered, no animal of its kind 


was more numerous than the Black Bear, from Canada to 


the Gulf of Mexico, and from the Atlantic Ocean to the 
_ great plains east of the Rocky Mountain Range. It fre- 
quented all the mountains, the thickets of the vast plains, 
and every creek, river, and bayou bottom. At the present 
time, its habitat is confined to some portions of the various 
ranges of mountains south of the St. Lawrence River, the 
Great Lakes, and, east of the Mississippi River, to parts of 
those portions of the Mississippi River and its tributaries 
which are yet unsettled, and where it has been able to 


escape destruction from hunters. Some few are yet found in > 


the dense thickets of the Colorado, Trinity, and Brae 
Rivers. 

Still-hunting was the mode of killing the Bear by the 
early settlers of the American Colonies. Except in the 
Alleghany and Blue Ridge Mountains, but few Bears would 
now be killed by a still-hunter. In fact, they have become 


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THE BLACK BEAR. 249 


so scarce that it requires‘not only a good pack of Bear-dogs, 


but the very best start-dogs, to enable the Bear-hunter to be 


successful. 

Forty-nine years have passed since I went on my first 
camp-hunt, in search of Bear, as a protégé under the most 
successful Bear-hunter in the Alleghany Mountains. 
Though no Bears were killed, and I saw no Bears, yet I 
acquired a vast fund of knowledge of the habits of the 
Bear, which subsequently proved of great advantage to 
me while hunting in the Far West. 

To give the reader a correct insight into the mysteries of 
the Bear-chase, the habits, and modes of pursuing the Bear, 


~ I will relate what I learned from this noted hunter. 


My room-mate at Washington College, Virginia, was a 
son of this old hunter. By special request of my father, I 
was granted a week’s furlough to go on this hunt. Our 
camp was pitched in a part of the mountains bordering on 
the Cheat River, a locality famous for its many Bears and 
Panthers. A good, dry place was found under a large, 
shelving rock, and close at hand flowed a clear, rippling 
brook, fringed with ivy and laurel-bushes. 

After we had eaten our supper, I begged the old hunter 


to tell us some of his escapes from the she-Bears whose ~ 


cubs he had taken while the mothers were absent, but 
which had returned in time to pursue him. 

‘** Boys,” said he, ‘‘it were best I should tell you how to 
still-hunt, and instruct you as to what you should do pro- 
vided we find a Bear to-morrow. Probably we shall go by 
a cave where I robbed a she-Bear of her cubs, and got this 
scar, that I shall carry to my grave, in a hand-to-hand 
fight with her. 

‘‘ Bears are exceedingly fond of all kinds of fruits and 
nuts, especially grapes and chestnuts. As soon as the 
spring opens, the female takes out her cubs and goes feed- 
ing with them early in the morning. After she has got her 
breakfast, she either goes back to the place where she 
brought forth her young, or to some thicket, there to lie 
until late in the evening. The best time to hunt them 


—— ee 


250 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


is early in the morning, or a short time before sundown. 
You must make a deadly shot, or you will not get that 
Bear, if shot near night. If the old she-Bear has to go some 
distance to feed, she leaves her cubs in their den, and on her 


return it is likely you may geta shot. You may find her — 


while she is tearing to pieces rotten logs in search of insects. 

‘Tf her cubs are with her, the chances to get a good 
shot are better than if she is alone. The cubs are as play- 
ful as kittens, and while they are tumbling over one 
another, and grabbing at a bug or worm that the mother 
has found, she is not so cautious in looking out for a 
hunter. If she is alone, there is no animal I know that 
is more timid and suspecting. I have seen them rolling 
over heavy logs, tearing them to pieces, and almost at 
every moment looking around to see if anyone was 
approaching. At the least noise they hear, they rear 
with their fore feet on the log, and listen intently, and then, 
if the alarm prove false, resume their search—it was only 
a Deer passing, too far away to be molested by them, but 
the noise was not that of man. Perhaps it was made by 
hogs rooting and grunting. 

‘‘How changed is everything! They rear again upon 
* the log, turn their heads in every direction, to locate the 
precise spot where the hogs are feeding. They instinctively 


know how far off it is—they have located them. Now ~ 


they step along so softly that it is difficult to hear the least 
sound of their feet; now they stop and listen again. See 
them crouching to the ground! They have discovered that 
the hogs are approaching, and feeding toward them. 
They have approached sufficiently near, and, with a bound, 
they rush forward and seize the largest. 

‘The Bear never makes a mistake as to the largest and 
fattest hog. No sooner is the hog caught than the Bear 
begins tearing and eating the squealing victim, regardless 
of “how much it squeals, until it has gorged as long as it is 
possible to eat, when it ambles slowly away to some dense 
thicket, there to lie down until hunger compels it to return 
to the remains of the hog. 


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THE BLACK BEAR. aaah ct 


‘‘The Bear does not keep watch, like the Panther, over 
its prey, to prevent other animals from eating or dragging 
it away. The Panther that has caught a Deer, after eating 
as much as it wants, usually seeks some tree near by, and 
there, extended at full length on a limb, keeps a close 
watch of the carcass, which it has covered with leaves, to 
conceal it from buzzards and crows. 

‘* Again, I have seen the Bear return to the log, after 
listening intently, and renew its search for insects, when I 
would imitate the bleats of a fawn when seized by some 
voracious animal. No more listening now; but onward, 
with terrific growls, it would rush to the spot, right up 
to the muzzle of the gun, to be stopped only by a well- 
directed shot. I am inclined to the belief that were the 
gun to miss fire, the Bear would, in such a case, attack the 
hunter. 

‘* Again, I have, after the Bear had returned to its feed- 
ing, stepped a few steps on the dry leaves and twigs. There 
was no mistaking that ominous sound; no listening, no 
stopping; but, as fast as its legs could take it, through 
brush, briers, vines, or cane, it dashed, as if life and death 
depended on its movements, and would not stop until it 
had reached its place of safety. It recognized the sound as 
well as if it had seen the hunter. 

‘*After the Bear leaves its winter quarters, it eats what- 
ever it may find, not only insects, but young cane, craw- 
fish, roots that are edible, mast of all kinds, hogs, the young 
of cows and Deer, sheep, carcasses of animals that have 
recently died—if very hungry, not disdaining a meal from a 
putrid carcass. 

‘*The Black Bear is exceedingly fond of honey, and 
rarely fails to get the honey when it has found a bee-tree. 
After night, it will leave the mountains and go to the 
farms in search of food. Should he find a hive of bees, he 
will boldly carry it off, and, knocking it to pieces, eat the 
honey, regardless of the stings of the whole colony. On 
several occasions, I have caught them in large Bear-traps, 
using honey asabait. Those traps were made of logs, in the 


————— ee rt—~;~; 


252 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


shape of a pen, with a falling top, all so strongly put 
together that the animal could not break out. 

‘‘When I have found them ravaging a corn-field, I 
have sometimes set a musket to kill them as they got 
over the fence. It is a Bear’s habit to go into a field and 
return at the same place. A knowledge of this enables the 
hunter to use either the gun or a large steel-trap, fastened 
with a heavy log-chain to a log. When caught, its great 
strength enables it to get out of the field and drag the log 
to some distance inthe forest, until exhausted. The hunter 
follows the trail, and shoots it the next morning, without 
any danger to himself. 

Sy Later in summer, when the lakes or bottoms of the 
large southern rivers have dried down to shallow depths, 
the Bear takes to them, and, by muddying the water, kills 
with its fore paws the fish that rise to the top. They are 
remarkably fond of fish, and will not eat a gee fish as 
long as they can catch the live ones. 

‘‘As soon as the mast begins falling, they cease fishing, 
and take to the mast. The white-oak acorn is a favorite 
food. I have killed many a Bear while ‘lopping.’ This is 
an expression used by hunters to denote that the Bear has 
climbed a tree loaded with acorns, and is breaking down 
the limbs. The hunter hears the noise, and, by cautious 
creeping, gets sufficiently near to shoot the Bear before he 
is discovered. Should the Bear hear him, he will fall to the 
ground, and run off, apparently not the least hurt by the 
fall. 

‘‘As soon as the chestnuts ripen, is the best time for the 
still-hunter. This is the best season for finding Bears in 
search of chestnuts; and not far from us are a number of 
chestnut-trees, where I am in hopes of finding some Bears 
‘lopping’ to-morrow morning. You boys go to sleep now, 
for long before the stars disappear I will rouse you to eat 
your breakfast, and then to follow me, as silent as death 
when we approach the trees. As we go along, I will show 


you by what marks and signs I manage to find Bears when 
still-hunting.”’ 


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THE BLACK BEAR. | 2538 


According to his promise, we were roused, and in Indian 
file we accompanied him. As soon as it was light enough 
to see, the old hunter pointed to a rotten log torn to pieces, 
and the ground rooted up as if done by hogs. I said to 
him that I thought it was hogs. 

‘* Look here,’’ said he; ‘‘ don’t you see that broad track 


sunk in the soft ground? Is that like a hog’s track?”’ 


‘*No,” said I; ‘‘ that is a nigger’s track. Some nigger 
has been here digging worms to catch fish.” 

*‘ Wrong again. Look! you don’t see the long, promi- 
nent heel and broad bottom, like a negro or a human being. 
Can’t you see the marks of the claws? The nigger’s feet 
have no claws. No, that is Bear-sign; and it is a big Bear. 
It did this work last night. Be silent, and perhaps we may 
find it ‘lopping’.’”’ 

As we silently followed, the old hunter pointed to a beech- 
tree which a Bear had climbed, and the scratches looked 
as if recently made. Soon I saw him pointing to leaves 
turned over. Going to the place, he scraped away the 
leaves, examined closely, and whispered, ‘‘A Bear did that.’’ 

Ere long, we went by a chestnut-tree, and he pointed to 
a pile of burs near the foot of the tree, where a Bear had 
gathered the chestnuts and eaten them at his leisure. This 
pile he examined closely, and then said it had been done 
several days before, but it proved to him that the Bears 
were now ‘‘lopping.”’ 

Presently he stopped. It was now light enough to see 
quite plainly. He listened for some time; then, pointing in 
a certain direction, whispered: ‘‘ It is a Bear; he is lopping 
about a quarter from us. Don’t say a word; be sure not to 
cough or sneeze, but follow in my tracks, and, above all, 
don't break a dry twig—if you do, the Bear is lost to us. 
Should I get close enough to shoot, both of you run up to 
the tree, to prevent him from coming down. Should it fall, 
both fire into it, aiming behind the shoulder. I will be up 
with you, and before it can rise I will use my knife.”’ 

Unfortunately, before we got in shooting distance, my 
room-mate, who had caught cold, was compelled to cough, 


254 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


and that lost us the Bear. We heard it fall out of the tree 
andrun. ‘‘No use to follow,’’ remarked the old hunter. 
‘We must either seek a different portion of the mountains 
to find another Bear, or turn our attention to killing some 
Deer and turkeys. This Bear will tell all the Bears in its 
range about us, and before to-morrow morning there will 
not be a Bear in five miles of this place.”’ 

Thus I lost the sight of a wild Bear, and did not see one 
until 1844 found me on the banks of the Mississippi River, 
where it was easier to kill a Bear than to find a squirrel at 
the place where I am now living. But I treasured up the 
many remarks of the old hunter as regards still-hunting. 

Coming to the West, I found some Bear-hunters employ- 
ing dogs to find and bring the Bears to bay. It was 
much easier, and far more interesting, to use a pack of 
good Bear-dogs than to go tramping through thick forests 
in search of sign, or to lie in wait to kil) one that has 
taken to the corn-field, or is going to the hog-pen to carry 
off a fat porker. 

_ There is no doubt in my mind that the Black Bear’s 
proper domain is a cold country, and that it grows to a 
much larger size in the Alleghany and Blue Ridge Mount- 
ains than it attains in the thickets of the Brazos River, pro- 
vided it lives a life undisturbed by hunters and the inroads 
of civilization. 

The cubs follow their mother from the time she leads 
them from their winter quarters until she hibernates the 
following winter. The mother frequently returns to the 
place where she brought forth her young, to rear another 
litter. The yearling cubs seek a hibernation not far from 
the mother. The second year, the cubs keep together, and 
do not forget their mother. I have often seen the mother 
with her two small cubs and her cubs of the year before 
feeding together in sloughs, in search of craw-fish and suc- 
culent roots. When three years old, the female usually 
becomes a mother, and lives by herself, while the male 


wanders to another place, apparently forgetful o its 
mother or sister. 


THE BLACK BEAR. 255 


Only once in my experience in Bear-hunting, in the 
West, did I witness a mating of Bears. This occurred on 
Cypress Creek, in Arkansas, in the month of July. While 
out watching for an Otter in the creek, my attention was 
attracted, by growling, to a part of the creek bottom where 
the woods were thick, with many large beech-trees fring- 
ing the banks of the creek. I recognized the noise, and 
silently made my way to the place whence it came. The 
sun was just rising. I discovered four large Bears, and one 
not so large, which I knew to be a female. The four males 
were growling, knocking one another with their paws, while 
the female stood a few steps away, as unconcerned as it is 
possible to imagine, yet slyly taking in, with one eye askant, 
the maneuvers of the males. For several minutes, I saw the 
males testing their strength and ability by rearing as high 
as their fore paws could reach on the body of a gigantic 
beech, and then making long and deep scratches upon it. 
Each in turn would do this. As soon as one made the trial, 
he would scratch back with his hind feet, just as dogs do 

*when meeting anothér strange dog. The female commenced 
ambling off, satisfied, as I supposed, which one was the 
superior, and to which she would transfer her love. 

Though it was not the season to kill a Bear, yet the very 
black, glossy appearance of the largest male made me envy 
his fleece. I wanted it for a rug in my bachelor home. 
Before this old fellow could get out of sight, a well-directed 
shot from my double-barrel rifle dropped him dead in his 
tracks. The skin I kept for several years, until the moths 
destroyed it. 

I have learned from experienced Bear-hunters that they 
have often found cypress-trees in sloughs with deep 
scratches, made by male Bears in the mating-season, after 
gnawing the tree with their teeth. A famous Bear-hunter, 
now living near me, informed me that on the Neenock Lakes 
of Bossier Parish, around which in former times was an 
almost impenetrable cane-brake, he saw a cypress-tree that 
had been gnawed so much by Bears as eventually to kill 
the tree. He informed me that the Coddo Indians told him 


256 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


that this tree was gnawed in the mating-season, they claim- 
ing to have seen the Bears at it, and that the female granted 
her favors to the Bear that gnawed the highest. 

There is no precise time for the Bears to hibernate. An 
old Bear will not hibernate until it is fat, or the weather 
becomes very cold. Ihave found Bears feeding or travel- 
ing as late as the middle of January, in'the Southern States, 
and IJ have found fat, old Bears bedded under piles of cane 
as early as the middle of November. 

In the early ’40s, the time I came to the West and set- 
tled in Mississippi, the Bear-hunters met with no difficulty 


in killing Bears by still-hunting. In fact, this was the best — 


mode for those who made it their occupation, either for 
food or profit. The settlers in the wide bottoms of the Missis- 
sippi River, the St. Francis, White, Arkansas, and Ouachita 
Rivers, of Arkansas; the Yazoo, Sunflower, and Big Black, 
of Mississippi; the Red River, of Louisiana, and Sabine, 
Neches, Trinity, Brazos, and Colorado, of Texas, pre- 
ferred to still-hunt the Bear. Hunting with dogs made the 
Bears more timid, and drove them farther back into the 
denser thickets. 

The Bear-hunter saved the hams and shoulders for his 
family, or sold to trading-boats that were found on all these 
rivers. The skins were dried and sold, but the sides and 
all the fat he could collect from the entrails were tried out 
and the oil brought a high price, in those early days. The fat 
of the Bear, like that of the Opossum, has not that greasy, 
fatty taste of hog’s fat, but is very palatable, and a great 
quantity can be eaten without producing nausea of the 
stomach. 

But few Bear-hunters used dogs for hunting Bear in 
those early times—only in cases where one hunted more 
from the love of it, and the intense excitement it produced, 


than for pecuniary profit. To me there is greater excite- — 


ment in hunting Bear with dogs than in any other method, 
and so it is with many others. 

There is as much difference in the pleasure and excite- 
ment of hunting Bear and Deer with dogs, and in that 


Oe Ne ee a a ee ee 


eye ey eae oe 


ee dy Pe ee 


THE BLACK BEAR. 257 


derived from still-hunting, as in running Foxes with a fine 
pack of hounds, and in stealing on a Fox to shoot it before 
it gets to its hole in the ground. 

In this climate, Bear usually hibernate some three months 
of the winter. When pursued by dogs, it is very difficult 
to make a poor Bear take a tree, or be brought to bay 
by the very best team of dogs. If very fat, it dashes, when 
started, through the densest thickets it can find, with a noise 
equal to that of a horse-cart when the horse runs away with 
it, snapping the cane, vines, and briers in its way, like pipe- 
stems; turns not a line from a straight eourse, unless meet- 
ing with some impediment it can not surmount, and does not 
stop until it reaches the densest part of the thicket, where it 
will stand to bay behind a clay-root, until the pack of dogs 
is wearied out, or a hunter arrives to kill it. 

When his dogs have either treed or brought a Bear to 
bay, an old Bear-hunter uses a great deal of caution, and 
puts in practice the very best mode of stalking the Bear. 
He knows that if the Bear should either hear or smell him, 
it will fall out of the tree and run off, or leave the clay-root 
and make off to another thicket. Hence, to get in shooting 
distance of a Bear at bay, he must be certain of the direc- 
tion of the wind, and take that approach to the Bear with 
the wind blowing from the Bear to him. He must cut every 
vine and stalk of cane in his way, make not the slightest 
noise to give the animal the least intimation of his approach, 
until he is up sufficiently near to use his knife, if his team 
of dogs are able to pull the Bear down for a moment, and if 
not, then to make a sure and fatal shot with his gun or rifle. 

A favorite weapon of mine, the last ten years that I 
hunted Bear, was a No. 10 double-barrel Greener gun, of 
ten pounds weight, which I loaded with a patched ball to 
fit the barrels. I found this weapon shot, at short range, as 
accurately as the best of rifles. This gave me the advan- 
tage of a double shot. . With one barrel, generally, I could 
knock the Bear down, and before it could rise to kill my 
dogs, I could put the muzzle against the head, or its side, 


and a second shot produced instant death. To make assur- 
17 


258 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


ance doubly sure, I followed it up with the use of my cane- 


knife. 


I have hunted with several packs of Bear-dogs owned by ~ 


famous Bear-hunters. These packs generally consist of 
from twenty to thirty dogs—a team sufficient to pull a big 
Bear down for an instant, and only an instant, when, if not 
killed by the knife or gun, it would rise, shake off the dogs 
as a huge Mastiff would a Fice, and then several of the 
pack would be killed in less time than I employ in writing 
this sentence. <A trained team of Bear-dogs will not rush 
on a large Bear to pull it down until the hunter gets up to 
them, and with yells urges them on the growling, snapping, 
enraged brute. The best Bear-dogs I ever owned or hunted 
with were pure thorough-bred black-and-tan Deer-hounds. 
They proved the most reliable for striking cold trails, and 
the very best fighters. I generally crossed upon the Scottish 
Lurcher the black-and-tan Hound, and often this cross upon 
a good fighting cur, for the bulk of the team. The Collie 
crossed on the Hound made a splendid fighter. 

Bull-dogs and Bull-terriers were of no account. I have 
seen powerful Bull-dogs turn tail and run home at the sight 
of an enraged Bear. A cross of the Bull-dog ona cur or 
Hound always resulted in the death of the dog. The hunt- 
ers wanted dogs, not to hold on, like Bull-terriers, but, on 
the order of the Greyhound or Wolf-hound, to snap and 
spring back, and never to give up fighting in that manner 
until the Bear was killed. 

I have known a Hound bitch to fight a Bear for forty- 
eight hours, until a hunter came to her assistance and 
killed the Bear. It was over thirty miles from where the 


Bear was started to where it was killed. No other breed of © 


dogs would have followed a Bear so long. 

The best gun that the early Bear-hunters of my time 
used was a first-class double-barrel shotgun, No. 12 in 
bore, with thick barrels, using a ball that fitted them, to be 
patched as in a smooth-bore rifle. | 

A cane-knife, from eighteen to twenty inches long, of the 
best metal, and weighing not less than four to five pounds, 


THE BLACK BEAR. 259 
was a vade mecum—an indispensable weapon for a Bear- 
hunter. The double-barrel gun (all were muzzle-loaders in 
those days) might snap, but there was no discount on a good 


cane-knife—so called, because it was used for cutting cane. | 


When possible, a double-barrel rifle was used. Not 
many hunters could procure a first-class double-barrel rifle. 
I found the majority of hunters using the Miss Yager. My 
own weapons were a Manton double-barrel muzzle-loading 
shotgun, No. 12, thirty-two inches long, weighing nine 
pounds, and a Wesley Richards double-barrel rifle, carry- 
ing forty balls to the pound, thirty inches long, and weigh- 
ing ten pounds. I used a knife, a genuine bowie, with an 
eighteen-inch blade. 

At this time, my weapons would be a Winchester Express 
rifle, a Colt?s revolver (army size), and a bowie-knife. The 
rapid destruction of the big game of America is due to that 
powerful weapon, the Winchester Express. During the big 
overflows of the last fifteen years, the Black Bears have been 
nearly exterminated by hunters in canoes threading the 
mazes of the Mississippi bottoms and its big tributaries. 
Their victims were perched in trees, which they could see 
along way off, and canoe-loads were slaughtered by this 
deadly weapon in a day. 

The dogs I should recommend to the novice, in getting 
together a ‘pack for Bear-hunting, would be, first, the gen- 
uine thorough-bred black-and-tan Deer-hound. It is the 
best fighter, the best ‘‘stick-to-him’’? dog I ever hunted 
with, and decidedly the coldest trailer. I would want 
some half-dozen of these, and at least four of them bitches. 
I have found the bitch the best trailer, the best fighter, 
and the best stayer. I had a bitch that once followed a 
Bear for forty hours, until some hunter killed the Bear— 
how much longer she would have followed is idle to say. 

Having secured the hounds, I would urge the hunter to 
get several Scotch Lurchers, to cross upon his black-and- 
tans. Next, about a dozen of the best curs and shaggy- 
coated mongrels that he could secure, and especially two or 
three genuine wire-haired Scotch-terriers. These last are 


260 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


essential in very dense cane-brakes. They can get under 
the cane and pinch a Bear so tight that it is forced to tree 
or bay. 


With such a pack, and one reliable start-dog, the young © 


Bear-hunter can yet find good sport in Coahoma and Boli- 
var Counties, Mississippi, Ashley County, Arkansas, and 
along the White and St. Francis Rivers. A few Bears are 
yet to be found along the Ouachita, Red, Trinity, and 
Brazos Rivers. Occasionally a Bear is found crossing the 
dividing ridges between these rivers. Sometimes the Texas 
cowboy has the pleasure of roping one, crossing a prairie 
from one river bottom to another. 

Last summer I discovered the tracks of an old she-Bear 
and her two cubs, that had been fishing in a lake in the Red 
River bottom, in Red River Parish. Several years have 
passed since any were seen in that parish before, and 


undoubtedly these wandered from the Sabine River, in 


Texas, across the hills to Red River. 

In regard to still-hunting the Black Bear, having tested 
both modes of hunting, I can only give my own experience. 
Right here I would say, that it would be at this time a rare 
accident for a still-hunter to find a Bear in our southern 
country, in this way, except in overflows. 

In early times, when Bears were numerous, the still- 
hunter could watch certain places where the Bears crossed 
from one thicket or cane-brake to another—it being their 
habit, like Deer, to use the same points at which to cross— 
and get a shot some time during the day. Again, he might 
find a ‘‘stepping-place,’? which I will later deseribe, and 
get a shot. Or he might succeed in stalking one while feed- 
ing on the pecan-mast, or water-oak acorns. Should he 
desire only to kill a Bear ravaging the corn-fields in the 
roasting-ear stage, by watching the gap where they crossed 
the fence, the chances for a shot would be good. At that 
season the Bears are too poor to be eaten. Though this is 
interesting, yet it is only cold-blooded assassination. 

How can it compare with the fierce baying of a noble 
pack of dogs, the angry growls of the enraged Bear, with 


is Suit ah 
Toren eS ee ae ee ok oe ee eee ee ee 


THE BLACK BEAR. 261 


wide-extended mouth, head in constant movement, now 
turning around to snap the little terrier that is pinching its 
hind legs, now rushing on some hapless hound that has 
ventured too close, which it kills with a blow of its fore paw, 
as it reaches out to draw its victim to its gnashing teeth, 
for that bite, the cowp de grace that ends its life. Conscious 
that its victim is dead, the Bear hurls the lifeless body 
aside, or tramples upon it in the fierce struggle, never to be 
touched by its teeth again. Now it snarls, growling 
louder, when it suddenly dashes on another dog. It is the 
hunter’s favorite. Perhaps he has approached just in time 
to hear the bones cracking to giblets in the powerful jaws 
of the monster. 

Witness the fury of the balance of the pack, which, 
animated by the presence of their master, at his fierce 
shout, dash upon the brute, regardless of talons and teeth, 
tearing it down to the ground in an instant, and, before it 
can rise, see that hunter, with rifle in left hand, his long, 
gleaming cane-knife in right, with the spring of the Tiger, 
bound forward and bury the knife to the hilt through the 
heart of the Bear, and then bound back. See the great 
beast, the moment it is struck, hurl aside the dogs as mere 
flies, and rising with a roar, dash forward in the direction 
whence the blow was struck, reckless of what may be in its 
way, until it drops stone-dead. 

In all good humor, and with due regard to the tastes of 
the still-hunter, I would ask, can there be any comparison 
in killing a Bear in this manner with that of stalking and 
shooting it down in cold-blood? One might as well com- 
pare the shooting down of an approaching enemy, by the 
unseen skirmisher, with that of the deadly conflict in a 
hand-to-hand charge, either with the glittering bayonet or 
the flashing broad-sword. As to which leaves the more 
enjoyable feelings in the human breast when the struggle 


is over, and comrades are seated around the camp-fire, 


there can be but one answer. 
As for myself, give me the pack of resolute dogs, baying 
an old male of ten years, backed against a clay-root, rather 


eer 


6 
262 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


than all the still-hunting ever done by Indian or white 
man ! 

Unless the young hunter possesses great nerve, 1 would 
caution him against shooting a Bear in the head. Oftener 
than otherwise the animal is missed, or only stunned, and 
the hunter.may lose his life, or be fearfully maimed. Let 
him shoot behind the shoulder, about two inches to the 
rear, and near the center of the body. He must be cautious 
in approaching the game. It is best to shoot the Bear in the 
head as it lies on the ground, lest it may rise and kill him. 

His chief object should be to make shots that shall pro- 
duce instant death, or such prostration of the vital organs 
that it can not injure either himself or his dogs. He should 
ever have in view the safety of both himself and pack. 

Dogs are more apt to be killed by wounded than 
unwounded Bears. Hence, old Bear-hunters are always 
fearful of letting a novice get the first shot at a Bear at 
bay. 

With the exception of killing a Bear at bay, the next 
most interesting and exciting hunt is in the stalking and 
shooting one at its ‘‘steppings.’’ When a hunter has 
found one of those places, with proper caution he can inva- 
riably get a shot; whether he is successful depends on his 
nerve and on his being a sure shot. 

It is an interesting sight to see a Bear ‘‘stepping.” 


None but very fat Bears make them. A week or two before 


going into winter quarters, the Bear selects some marshy 
ground, or a slough, along the side of which it can make a 
promenade night and morning before bedding. The place 
must be soft enough to permit his feet to sink at least a foot 
or more in the mud; and his steps are the same distance 


both going and returning, just as regular as the steps of a 


veteran sentinel. After the Bear has selected the place, 
and stepped for some fifty to seventy-five yards, he turns 
and retraces the same steps until satisfied. 

The time is either in the morning, about daylight, or 
just before sunset. I have found them oftener making their 
promenade in the morning than in the evening. They seem 


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THE BLACK BEAR. 263 


to take great delight in it. Only once have I observed two 
Bears at it at the same place. It seemed great fun to them 
to step immediately behind one another, the larger in front, 


in the same track, which soon becomes a foot or more deep, 


and presents the same appearance of steppings as those of 
a drove of hogs in muddy lanes. 

These Bears would push one another around as they got 
to the end of the track, and each would endeavor to be the 
first to resume the round, the foremost looking behind it, to 
see what the rear one was doing, several times before it got 
to the beginning-point. Once I saw them rear up like two 
dogs at play, with fore paws over the other’s shoulders. 

When a Bear comes to these stepping-places, it appears 
very timid —looks in every direction to discover some ani- 
mal, and sometimes crouches to the ground to listen better. 
Then, if satisfied by hearing no noise and observing no 
unusual object, it sniffs the wind in every direction, to 
locate a scent, and when entirely satisfied that all is right, 
begins its promenade. When tired, or when it is time to 
seek its lair, it trudges slowly away. 

To be successful, the hunter must be assured of the side 
on which the Bear comes to its stepping-grounds, and then 
be certain to be there sufficiently long before the Bear will 
come to the place, not to be scented by it. He must be 
cautious to ascertain the direction of the wind, and take 
that position on the side of the steppings near enough to 
make a deadly shot, and yet not too close, lest the Bear 
scent him. That position should be near the opposite end 
of the steppings from which the Bear begins to step, so 
that he may take advantage of the momentary halt that a 
Bear makes as he turns around to retrace his steps; and 
with a double-barrel No. 12 hammerless gun, grasped as if 
in a vise, stock firmly pressed to shoulder, forefinger ready 
to touch the left trigger at that particular moment, and 
with an ounce and a quarter ball, driven by three and three- 
fourths drams of powder, with a rising aim, about two to 
three inches back of shoulder, four inches below backbone, 
he will assuredly drop the Bear dead in its tracks; or, should 


264 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


the hunter prefer the rifle, let him use a Winchester rifle, 
and an Express ball prepared for this special work. For 
what particular purpose the Bears take these regular step- 
pings, I have never been able to determine. I haye seen 
none but very fat Bears at it. e 

A poor Bear, in the Southwest, seldom, if ever, hiber- 
nates. I have found them feeding every month of the 
winter. It is the opinion of many hunters with whom I 
have conversed about the steppings made by fat Bears, that 
it was done for the purpose of preparing their systems for 
the hibernation of three or more months. 

It is now only a question of time, and that very short, 
when the Black Bear will be exterminated, unless some may 
be preserved in captivity in zodlogical gardens. Take the 
fifty years of my experience with Bears—estimate the vast 
number that existed in the United States at the beginning 
of the year 1840 with the sparse number in 1890—and one 
may reasonably conjecture that forty years hence it will 
be almost impossible to find a wild Bear in the same space 
of territory. At the present time, Bears are still found 
along the Appalachian Range of mountains, in the wide 
and unsettled parts of the Mississippi bottoms and all its 
tributaries, and also in the Trinity, Sabine, and Brazos 


bottoms. Right here where I am now living, twenty-five 


years since, Bears were abundant; two years since, two Bears 
were killed on the opposite side of the river; but now, I 
firmly believe, not a Bear could be found in a radius of one 
hundred miles, their extermination being due to the 
advance of railroads, that caused the country to be settled, 
and to the rapid improvement in fire-arms and ammuni- 
tion. 

I append here accounts of several hunts in which I 
participated in my early life, and which accounts I con- 
tributed to the American Field, some years ago, under my 
own initials. 


Solitude is more company to me than society. When I 
want genuine comfort, freedom from all care, give me my 


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THE BLACK BEAR. 265 


office-room, without a human being in sight or on the prem- 
ises; nothing around me, in the form of living objects, save 
my mute and faithful dogs and my handsome Maltese cat. 
My thoughts are my companions, affording more real enjoy- 
ment, for the time, than the society of even. my most cher- 
ished friends. There are times when the sight of a human 
face is positive misery; when spoken words, whate’er their 
import, grate harshly on the ear; when conversation 
becomes repulsive, and when I would rather walk the 
depths of some vast forest, alone, communing with Nature 
in her varied garb, than listen to the speech of the wisest 
of philosophers, or the witticisms of friends. 

Such is my condition now—this cold December night— 
as I stir the fire and look with deep regard on my affec- 
tionate dogs—the handsome Beauty, the dignified Black 
Mand, and the frolicsome Dan's Trump—that are crowding 
closer to the fire as the cold wind howls through the 
key-hole, and the rattling snow and sleet beat against the 
window-panes. The sash and shutters vibrate, and, raising 
the window to close the shutters, the furious wind drives 
into the room a mass of sleety snow, and the lamp is extin- 
guished. I return to the fire, and gazing upon the bright, 
glowing coals, my mind reverts to such a night just forty- 
one years ago, when I was lying under a tent on the Oua- 
chita River, in Arkansas, with three boon companions. In 
memory I go back to the previous night, when seated about 
the hearth-stone of one of the most excellent ladies it was 
my fortune ever to know—no one save her only child, a 
most ardent sportsman, her niece, and myself being her 
company. It was a lovely night, just a week before Christ- 
mas. Mrs. Candace Taylor—such was the name of this 
lady—broke the silence, as we had sat for a few minutes 
each buried in thoughts and plans of the coming festivities, 
remarking: 

‘* Brother Harry and his wife will be here from Tennessee 
next week, and I want some Bear-meat for my Christmas 
dinner. I presume they have never eaten a piece, and I 
want to show them what good eating a piece of fat Bear- 


266 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


meat affords. Howell, my son, can’t you and Colonel A—— 
go down to the Ouachita to-morrow, and, with Mr. Littlejohn 
and Albert Williams, kill a Bear for me?”’ 

‘‘ Nothing would suit me better,’’ replied Howell. ‘‘T 
have been thinking of it for some time; and if you and 
Agnes (that was his wife’s name) can stay here alone for a 
few days, we will be off to-morrow morning just as soon as 
you can get our eatables ready. I know Colonel A—— 
will go, as he has been talking for some time of joining 
me in a Bear-hunt.”’ 

‘*You and Colonel A—— get ready to leave at daylight; 
Agnes and I will order the provisions cooked to-night. You 
shall not be delayed by us.”’ 

This settled the matter. I ordered my horse, rode to my 
office, and packed up everything necessary for me to carry 


on such a hunt. I cleaned up and put in order my fine 


double-barrel Manton, sharpened my cane-knife, melted the 
lead and ran a number of bullets to fit the bore, cut the 
patching out of thin buckskin, and, lastly, filled my canteen 
with the best of old Bourbon, to keep me from catching 
cold; for, though it was then so warm, I anticipated a spell 
of intensely cold weather before we should return. 

The next evening found the party seated around the 
camp-fire on the west side of the Ouachita River, which 
was then low enough to ford at the old Coleman Ford. We 
had two tents—one for the whites, the other for the negroes. 
Howell Taylor had a large pack of black-and-tan hounds. 
Parson Littlejohn had several good hounds, and some 
shaggy half-curs—excellent fighters. Albert Williams had 
about a dozen mongrels, all of which were good fighters, and 
one or two good start-dogs. Howell had one bitch, called 


Kate, that would rather run a Bear than eat a piece of © 
venison. She could trail up a Bear that had passed two 


days before, would run it for forty to fifty hours before 
quitting it, and was equally good on Deer. 

This sensible animal seemed to know just what kind of 
game her master wanted her to run. At home, if he 
wanted to go’ Possum-hunting, all he had to do was to 


ae Ae 


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ay ROS ce ee rere RS PO OL ee eT Oe Mae Pe Te eT a ET eer eT ee aT ee TS ea eer NS at aa We a ay ‘ , ~7 
: Das = : Ver 7 i apy 3 " ? ; ee eee Seas , a alee alli EM? he i A ie ati An a ci 
: q ? atis Y Shae ee ee 
‘ : ‘ Madi ts 3 re 
F ee 
eae 


THE BLACK BEAR. 267 


have the negroes who accompanied him show their axes to 
old Kate. It was enough; she was seen no more until she 
had treed the ’Possum or ’Coon. Did he want to hunt tur- 
keys, of which there were numerous flocks in the surround- 
ing hills, he had only to show Kate a turkey before leaving 
the house, take neither horn nor any other dog along, and 
he would be assured Kate ran nothing but a wild turkey 
that day. 

Our party were all smokers. Volumes of smoke were issu- 
ing from the door of the tent as one after another related 
past experiences in Bear-hunting, and thus we whiled away 
the greater part of the night. Littlejohn was an eloquent 
preacher, who loved to hunt as well as he did to preach; 
Taylor was beginning to study for the ministry; Phillips 
was, I believe, a member of the church, while the only sinner 
in the party was myself. Prayers were finally said, and we 
had just lain down to sleep, when the sky darkened, the 
wind roared, and a perfect Texas ‘‘norther’’ set in. Rain 
fell in big drops; then it turned to snowing and sleeting. A 
more sudden change I never witnessed. The shivering dogs 
crawled into the tents, and piled or cuddled on the bed- 
clothes, in spite of all our efforts to keep them out. 

At no period of my life do 1 remember a colder and more 
disagreeable night. As to sleeping, it was out of the ques- 
tion until tired nature gave way, sae we sank into fitful 
and unrestful naps. 

About the break of day we were ‘ceiues by the whining 
of old Kate. After we found it impossible to keep out the 
dogs, they had been allowed to stay in the tent, and the 
flap had been pinned down too tight for them to get out. 
Howell got up, and remarked: ‘‘Some varmint must be 
passing by, from the signs old Kate is making, and I believe 
it is a Bear.” 

Opening the flap of the tent, he let her out, and gave her 
a stirring ‘“‘hie on.”’ But she needed none, for, with a 
bound and a note that told us plainly it was a Bear, she 
rushed down the road, with all the pack at her heels. Not 
a hundred yards out, the whole pack gave tongue. It wasan 


268 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


exciting time. We were all up—negroes and whites—in a 
moment, as excited a party as one ever sees on a Bear-hunt. 
Phillips, an experienced Bear-hunter, who knew the 
whole country, rushed out of the tent, listened awhile, and 
then said: ; 

‘Tt is a Bear, sure enough. The warm weather has 
caught him out of his den, and he is now making for the 
big cane-brake at the mouth of Cypress Creek. We are 
bound to kill that Bear. It is going to be a long and severe 
chase, but we shall kill. Come, let us eat a bite; drink 
plenty of coffee, for you will need it all to-day. Fill your 
pockets with lunch while the negroes are saddling our 
horses, for that Bear is to be killed, no matter what occurs. 
Howell, you and Littlejohn are better prepared to die than 
that sinner, the Colonel, and myself; for if you drown, you 
will be sure to go to the happy hunting-grounds, while it is 
extremely doubtful about us. Now, you must ride for life 
down the bank of the river, until about eight miles below 
here, to the crossing. You can not ford it now, but you 
must swim your horses across, and then, if you are not 
drowned, ride like Jehu up Cypress Creek to the big brake. 
You will be in hearing of the dogs all the, time, and if you 
don’t get a shot, the Bear will cross the river to this side, 
and make for the cane-thicket at the mouth of the Little 
Missouri River. Perhaps the Colonel and I may get a shot 
at it on this side. If we do not, it will run the thicket, 
and after awhile cross back. Then you can kill it as it 
swims back to you on the east side.”’ 

These instructions were rapidly given as we qulsed 
down our breakfast. It was an awful time to be out ona 
Bear-chase, especially as long a one as we expected this 
one to be, for none but a poor Bear would be out of winter 
quarters at this time of the year and in this storm. 

Even now, as I sit peering into the fire, I can see the per- 
sons whom I have represented, as plainly as if alive, and as 
if it were but yesterday. All have long since passed from 
earth, and have gone to their long resting-place, whither I 
am fast traveling. I alone am left to recall the scene, and 


ee Serer ere eee eas, A ee meee a 


THE BLACK BEAR. . 269 


*. 


to muse over it. Sixty-seven winters have whitened my 
locks, but I am a youth again this cold, bitter night, as 
eager to join in a chase of this kind as I was on that memo- 
rable morning. YetIlamsad. Why should I be their sur- 
vivor by so many years? I, whom if death had taken 
*twere no loss to the world nor society, while those who 
have gone had so much at stake—so many friends to whom 
their departure was a grievous calamity. What would 
have been their feelings could each have unveiled the 
future, and have looked twenty years ahead? 

I close my eyes, and still their faces are seen on every 
side. The wind still moans in fitful gusts—now it is a fierce 
howl—and louder rattles the sleet against the panes. Can 
there be some unseen spirit near, even in this room, who 
calls back from the murky shadows of the past this weird 
scene, and impels me to put on paper the recollections of 
that day? Or has the soul of my comrade in battle, my 
boon companion in sports of the forest, come back to earth, 
and is he now holding silent communion with my own 
spirit, almost emancipated from its dull clog of mortality? 
And does he bid me record the events of this chase, the 
most memorable of his short life? Ah! it must be so. 
Involuntarily I seize the pen, to write the thoughts that 
come trooping from the reservoir of memory, too fast for 
anything but an electric pen and an eager hand to record. 

Taylor and Littlejohn have mounted their horses, and 
the snow-flakes have hidden them from view as they hurry, 
with the speed of the wind, to get in hearing distance of the 
pack, which has now crossed the river. 

‘Take your time, Colonel,’”’ said Phillips, ‘‘and eat 
a-plenty. It will be a long way in the night before we 
again see this camp-fire, in my opinion. Weare going to 
have the severest chase ever seen in this bottom. I had no 
idea of starting a Bear until we got to the forks of the 
rivers. That Bear is poor; and I believe it is a barren 
female, else the old hussy would have been in her bed, 
sucking her paws and thinking of the babies she was to 
rear. As it is, she will never take a tree or go to bay. 


270 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


She will run and whip off the dogs all day, and it is so cold 
they will stop at night. If we kill her—and I vow she shall 
die—it will have to be done ahead of the dogs, while she 
is crossing back and forward from the two big brakes.”’ 

‘‘Mount,’’ I replied. ‘‘I have eaten all I want, and 
Ike has put us up a good lunch—sufficient for all four of 
us. Besides (showing him the canteen), | have got some- 
thing to warm the inner man, if we should feel like 
freezing.” 

A dash down the road revealed the trace of the dogs and 
Bear. 

‘‘What a whopper it is!’’ said Phillips, who led the 
way, I following at a break-neck speed. Some two miles 
below, we saw where the Bear had left the road and crossed 
the river, at one of its widest bends. No dogs were in hear- 
ing. I wanted to swim our horses across, and follow after 
them. : 

‘*No,’’ said Phillips. ‘‘No use to do that; before we 
could come up with them the Parson and Howell will have 
crossed, and will be ahead of us. Perhaps they may kill; 
but I think the Bear will cross back to run to the forks 
before we can get opposite the mouth of Cypress. Hurry 
up, and ride for all you are worth, to get there ahead of it. 
These dogs mean business, and so must we if we are to be 
in at the death.’’ 

Four miles more brought us to where the Parson and 
Howell had swum their horses across. 

‘* How is this ?’’ said Phillips, as we pulled up to listen, 
and examine where they had crossed. ‘‘I thought I told 
them to be sure to go to the ford, and then ride up the 
creek, so as to intercept the Bear. It is now evident that 
when they got here they heard the dogs fighting the Bear 


. on the other side, and not being able to wait to go down 


two miles farther, they have crossed, and, no doubt, are not 
far behind the dogs. Let us make for the ford as fast as we 
can ride, and wait there. If the Bear attempts to go up 
Cypress Creek, then we will have to swim across, and 
endeavor to get up with the dogs.” 


el eae Ed 


THE BLACK BEAR. 271 


A dash of a mile more, and Phillips stopped suddenly. 
He had caught the sound of the baying of the dogs, and 
of the voices of Littlejohn and Taylor. The roar of the 
pack was plain; and not far behind them we could hear the 
yells of the two hunters. 

‘““They must have gone stark-mad, to be hollering to 


~ those dogs,’’ exclaimed Phillips, as he muttered to himself 


words I did not catch—but no doubt they made the record- 
ing angel blush for their irreverence. And then he added, 
louder, ‘‘The Parson has forgot where he is, and thinks he 
is preaching to a lot of mourners at a camp-meeting. He 
will never kill a Bear at that rate. Ride, Colonel; I hear 
old Kate half a mile ahead, and she is just pinching and 
pushing that Bear for all he is worth. The Bear is aiming 
to cross at the ford, and if we can get there in time we can 
get a shot before it passes the road.”’ 

It was true. Old Kate was at least three to four hun- 
dred yards ahead; and it was a ride for life and death for us 
to be there before they crossed the river, which we undoubt- 
edly would have done, but for having to make our way 
around a number of large trees that the wind had blown 
down that night right across our path. 

This gave the Bear the inside track, and we had the 
melancholy satisfaction of hearing Kate’s fierce voice as she 
plunged into the cane on the right. She and the Bear had 
passed before we got to the ford, which the rest of the pack - 
were now swimming. 

‘*Let us stop here until the dogs all cross, and when 
they see me they will pursue the Bear with renewed cour- 
age,’’ said Phillips. 

Just then I saw the Parson and Taylor dash down the 
bank, right into the water, behind the last dogs. What 
cared those gallant hunters for ice, snow, and swimming 
water in a time like this! Up the bank they came, as wet 
as water could make them, and still yelling. 

‘*Stop that infernal noise,’’ shouted Phillips, as he 
dashed forward to head them off. ‘‘Stop that noise. If 
you had not yelled so, you would have got a shot long ago, 


272 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


or the Colonel and I would have killed the Bear while 
crossing here. It will never stop, nor return here, unless 
all noise ceases. I will follow the dogs, and endeavor to 
head the Bear from running up the Little Missouri. Par- 
son, you and Howell take down the Ouachita, and if you 
hear the dogs fighting close, make for the dogs; but, for 
God’s sake, do no more yelling. And you, Colonel, stay 
back, and if you hear the dogs returning, dash back to this 
place. The Bear will cross back, if it is not shot.” 

With these injunctions, he was soon lost to view, and I 
shouted to the Parson and Howell to ‘‘hold on for a 
moment.’ Pulling out my canteen, I said, ‘‘If there ever 
was a time in your lives that you needed spiritual revival, 
it is now;’’ and I handed it tothem. A deep swig by both, 
and soon they were out of sight, while I rode slowly down 
the road. It was only a few miles down to the junction of 
the two rivers, which was almost inaccessible, on account 
of the bluff banks below. 

Half an hour elapsed, with the roar of the pack all the 
time ringing in my ears, and if any man thinks it was easy 
for me to sit there and listen to it, he has never ridden to 
hounds when they were in red-hot pursuit of a big, hungry 
Bear. After awhile the sound died away, and I could hear 
nothing of dogs or hunters. It was growing fearfully cold; 
the snow was at least three inches deep, and the woods were 
fast becoming an iceberg. A more disagreeable day a lot 
of hunters never endured. 


It recalled to my mind the memorable time in the life | 


of the immortal Davy Crockett, when he had to climb a tall 
sapling, on the banks of the Obion River of Tennessee, and 
slide down it all night, to let the friction warm him to the 
point of not freezing. 

Late in the afternoon, I thought I heard the sound of a 
gun, and after some time the notes of old Kate could be 
distinguished. The Bear was evidently making back. 

Then I heard nothing more for an hour, when another 
gun broke the blast of the storm. Soon old Kate’s note 
came plainly, followed by those of the whole pack. These 


i oe —_ 


ee 


ee 


THE BLACK BEAR. 273 


sharp barks denoted that they were in close quarters, and 
that a death- struggle was going on. ~ 

They were coming nearer and nearer to me. It was too 
much for a hunter to stand and not be allowed to par- 
ticipate. Putting spurs to my horse, I dashed ahead to 
meet the dogs, regardless of the instructions of Phillips, 
and thereby I lost the chance of killing the Bear. The 
sleet was so heavy that I must have made a world of noise. 
This caused the Bear to turn and give Parson Littlejohn 
the chance of putting in a good shot. The cane was so 
thick that the only damage he did was to break a fore-leg, 
low down, which did not impede the Bear’s flight a great 
deal; but it made her more savage than ever, and several of 
the curs were soon left dead on her trail. 

I attempted to head the run, but got caught in a vine, 
and while I was disengaging myself, | saw Taylor dash by 
me, hatless, and regardless of every impediment, intent on 
stopping the Bear from crossing the river, or killing it as it 
should cross the road. 

Quickly cutting the vines that held me, I galloped 
behind him, and saw Bear and dogs crossing just ahead of 
him. The fight was so close that he could not shoot, for 
fear of killing a dog. Down the bank plunged the Bear, 
with old Kate nipping her hind legs, and the balance of 
the pack at her sides and around her. Oh, but she was 
furious! Her angry growls could be heard above the roar 
of the dogs, and then a fearful shriek told that some dog 
had been bitten, or struck by her paw. 

Into the water plunged the Bear, with dogs pulling at 
her as she swam across, and Howell, on his gallant gray 
horse, Felix, swimming so high that the water did not 
cover the skirts of the saddle. Several times I saw him 
raise his gun to shoot, and then take it down. I was right 
' behind him, my horse swimming, not like Felix, but so 
low that I was wet to the neck. 

‘Don’t shoot !’’ I shouted to Howell. ‘‘If you kill her, 
she will sink, and we will lose her.’’ But as she rose to 


ascend the bank, he could not restrain his impetuosity, but 
18 


274 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


fired, wounding the Bear and killing a dog—fortunately 


not old Kate. Before we crossed, the Parson and Phillips” 


were in the river, urging their horses to swim as fast 


as possible; and by the time we had got a hundred yards 


ahead of them, both had crossed, and were coming at full 
speed behind us. 

It was no use for me to try to get ahead of Howell. The 
Bear was evidently weakening, and the dogs were growing 
more and more furious. A dash of a quarter of a mile, 
with Howell not fifty yards ahead of me—he right behind 
the dogs—and the old Bear plunged into a cave-root, and 
turned for her final stand. 

In a moment, Howell was on the ground. Reckless of 
everything, he rushed almost into the jaws of the beast, 
and fired a fatal shot into her side, just behind the shoul- 
der, the gun almost touching her body. She sank to earth, 
and before she could have risen, he buried to the hilt in her 
heart his glittering bowie- knife, and gave a long yeu. of 
triumph. ~ 

By this time, the Parson, Phillips, and I were up, and, 
dismounting, we all united ina genuine old Bear-hunter’s 
yell, and hugged each other, just as men and comrades do 
after a deadly and successful charge of a battery. 

Then the question came up, ‘‘ What must we do with 


the Bear?’’ The sun was nearly down, it was ten miles to - 


camp, and a river, deep and two handred yards wide, to 
swim—we were wet, hungry, and the cold was growing 
more intense every moment. The Bear proved to be a 
barren female, as predicted; but she was not poor, being, 
on the contrary, in good condition for that time of the 
year. 

‘* What shall we do?”’ was now the absorbing question, 
and it was quickly decided to let her lie there until the 
next morning, when she could be taken to the hills, skirt- 
ing both the Ouachita and Cypress Creek. Our wagon 


could be crossed over at the Coleman ford, and driven down 


the Camden road to a point where the Bear could be taken 
to it. There was no help for it, but the river had to be 


“oe a er Le 


“G@3SSS3Yd GYVH 


ot 


Se heats 


MS eR a PNP Se 


: F — Taylor. 


THE BLACK BEAR. 275 


crossed again—no fun in it this time, as the cold water 
baptized us again nearly to our necks. 
Horse-flesh was not spared on the eight-mile ride up 
the river, and in less than one hour and a quarter we were 
in sight of our camp-fires. Phillips was in the lead, and as 
he saw the cheerful blaze, shouted back: 
‘**T ouess those negroes recollected what I told them this 
- morning, that if they did not have a rousing fire, and plenty 
of coffee, hot as could be made, I would duck them in the 
river until nearly drowned.”’ 
_It was a rousing fire, large enough to cook a whole ox, 
aud was made out of the best of seasoned hickory-trees. 
We were nearly frozen before we got there. Our clothing 


was a mass of ice, and long icicles were hanging from our | 


~ hats, while our beards were covered with ice. 

_ It took us but a moment to dismount and drink a quart 
of strong coffee. Soon the negroes had stripped off our 
clothing. By bathing in cold water, and by hard rubbing, 
we were prepared for dressing and eating. The lunch [had 
taken had been so saturated in crossing the river that I 
threw it to the dogs—at the killing of the Bear. Now we 
fell to, as if we had not eaten a mouthful for a week. 
Never did I enjoy a meal more. After the inner man was 
thoroughly satisfied, and our pipes lighted, each had to 
relate what he did and saw during the day. I must remark 
that we were not unmindful of our horses, that did us such 
noble service all day. No sooner had we dismounted than 
a negro stripped each horse and rubbed him dry, walked 
him back and forth that he might not be too suddenly 
cooled, and then each was blanketed and tied near the huge 
fire. The dogs that survived the chase were abundantly fed, 
and given straw to lie on, near the fire; but old Kate was 
permitted to occupy a bed by the side of her master. Five 
dogs were missing—four killed by the Bear and one by 


After we had lain down, Phillips said he headed the 
Bear before it got through the big thicket on the Little 
Missouri, and had a chance to have killed it while fighting 


- eS ie rE 


/ 


276 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


the dogs, but both barrels of his gun missed fire, and before 
he could pick powder into the tubes and recap, the Bear 
made off; that he succeeded again in cutting it off from 
going up the river, and got a shot, but his horse was so 
frightened by the sudden appearance of the Bear that he 
missed. However, he accomplished his object, and drove 
the Bear back toward the Ouachita, where it was met by 
Littlejohn, whose shot broke a fore leg. 

‘*Tell us, Parson,’’ I said to Littlejohn, ‘‘ why did you 
and Taylor cross the river before going down as far as the 
ford?’’ 

‘*Oh, that was because we heard the pack fighting on 
the opposite bank, and supposing the Bear was at bay, 
Howell and I could not stand it, but were compelled to go 
to the relief of the dogs. By the time we crossed, the Bear 
had moved on, and we followed on the tracks, as fast as we 
could, through the big cane-brake. While I was making 
my way through it, I came across a fresh track of a large 
Bear, and following it a short distance, I saw its bed, where 
it had bedded for the winter. It was a much larger track 
than that of the one we have killed.”’ 

“That is glorious news,’’ remarked Phillips. ‘‘ We will 
kill that Bear to-morrow, in less than half an hour after we 
_ start it. As certain as we are alive this night, that Bear 
will return to its bed. It has only been frightened by the 
dogs, and, I doubt not, it did not go a quarter of a mile be- 
fore it stopped, and finding the dogs had gone out of hearing, 
it has returned, and is at this moment sucking its paws and 
thanking its stars that the dogs did not get after it.” 

As Phillips was our leader on this hunt, we resolved to 
follow his plan the next morning, which was to send the 
wagon and negroes to the Camden road, and direct them 
to go to Nix’s place, near the Cypress Creek bottom; for 
Colonel A—- to go with them, and to get Nix to show him 
the hollow leading from the road to the Ouachita bottom, 
and for both to take stands on the run Bears usually made 
in crossing from the Ouachita across the hills to the june- 
tion of Big Tulip and the Cypress Creek. 


THE BLACK BEAR. 277 


‘*Nix has often hunted Bears with me,”’ said Phillips, 
*‘and knows all the runs of the Bears. As Colonel A—— has 
not yet had a shot, I propose to try his nerve to-morrow. It 
is the shortest route for us to get to our dead Bear, to cross 
the river here and go down until we strike the tracks of 
yesterday, and then follow on until we come to the bed 
which the Parson found. Should the Bear not have 
returned, old Kate will trail it up; no discount or odds to 
be taken on that Beér—we are bound to kill it. It is now 
turning warmer; the snow has stopped falling, with every 

evidence that we shall have as pretty a day as the past has 
been blustering and cold.”’ 

This plan being adopted, we were all soon sound asleep, 
and slept until the negroes roused us to breakfast, before 
the stars had disappeared. In less than an hour, and before 
the rising sun gilded the tops of the trees and flashed its 
rays on the icicle forest, I had arrived at the Camden road 
with the wagon, and the negroes drove at a sweeping trot 
to John Nix’s house. It was not more than seven miles 
distant, and I got there before the family had breakfasted. 
Late a second breakfast with John, and told him the occur- 
rences of the day before and our plans for this day. 

In a short space of time he was ready to accompany me. 
We galloped down to the bottom, not a mile distant, and 
took our stands. 

I did not have to wait over half an hour before I heard 
the whole pack break into one continued roar, bearing direct 
tome. Then I thought they were going to pass me, and, as 
directed by Nix, I rode about a quarter into the cane, until 
I-struck a slough, along which the Bears frequently ran 
when pursued by dogs. This slough separated the two 
dense points of the big brake. Stopping, I heard them com- 
ing directly toward me. Dismounting, I tied my horse, and, 
cocking my gun, stepped a few steps into the cane, so as not 
to let the Bear see me should it run down the slough, and 
yet be able to shoot either on the slough or in the thicket. 

It was plain the dogs were up with the Bear, and fighting 
all they could. The noise the Bear made with its growls, 


a ee 


278 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


and snapping of cane, and the cry of the dogs, gave me the 
buck-ague terribly. I was afraid the Bear would not pass 
by me. Buta few minutes elapsed, however, before I saw the 
cane and snow and icicles snapped and pushed aside, and not 
ten feet from me rushed the tremendous, savage beast. I 
don’t think he saw me. I fired the left barrel, loaded with an 
ounce-and-a-half ball, into his side, just back of the shoul- 


der, and as he sank to the shot I jammed the muzzle of the — 
gun to the ear and fired the second shot, bursting nearly — 


half of the head off. Old Kate had him by the hind leg 
befove I fired the second shot, and the balance of the pack 
were up before the last smoke cleared away. Three long 
blasts of my horn announced my victory, and in a few 
minutes the Parson, Taylor, and Phillips dashed up, with 
Nix a short time after them. 

‘‘ Just as I predicted,’’? said Phillips; ‘‘this old Bear 
had gone back to his bed. Old Kate winded him at least 


two hundred yards before getting to the bed. She did not © 


open, but broke for the bed, with all the pack following 
her. Iam confident the Bear had heard us, and had left 
the bed before the dogs got to it. It was so fat it could not 
run far before the dogs came up with it, and then it was a 
fight from there on until you shot. I feel assured it would 
not have gone a mile further before turning to bay, and 
some one of us would have got the shot had you not 
headed it.” 

The run was short, and the ending glorious. There was 
nothing more to do-now but get our two Bears together, 
skin, quarter, and divide, and then to return to our respect- 
ive homes; and thus ended the most trying, the coldest, and 
most successful hunt I ever made in Arkansas. : 


pig gi at» 2 cal sae 


THE BUFFALO. 


By Ort Bevxnap (‘‘ UNCLE FULLER”). 


7 By 7ROM the savannas of Georgia to the shores of the 
‘2’ Great Lakes on the east, and from the waters of the 
ike Gulf of Mexico to the plains of the Saskatchewan on 
the west, the American Bison (Bos Americanius) 
roamed in numbers countless almost as the blades of the 
grass upon which they fed, when the destroying European 
first met the eastern vanguard of their mighty host.. From 
the brine of the Atlantic to the cliffs of the Rocky Mount- 
ains, wherever the camp-fire of the wandering Indian shone 
in wigwam, lodge, or tepee, within sight of its curling 
smoke was found the strange ruminant, the robe, flesh, 
and sinews of which constituted the principal source of his 
wealth, and the possession of which rendered him the most 
independent of savages, and the best fed human animal on 
the globe. 

The amazing numbers and wide distribution of the Bison 
greatly facilitated the early exploration and development 
of the interior of the great continent. 

The rugged Scottish pioneers of the Selkirk Settlement, 
on the shore of Hudson’s Bay —whose only communication 
with civilization for more than one hundred years was by 
means of the single ship which made its annual voyage 
from Europe to those lonely shores—found, in the grazing 
herds which dotted the adjacent plains, a plentiful source 
of the flesh diet so necessary in that high latitude; while 
the hardy voyageur of the Hudson’s Bay Company, on his 
commercial mission to the savage tribes of the far North- 
west, carried with him into the frozen regions, in the form 
of pemmican made of the dried flesh and fat of the Bison, 


the only food that proved to be nutritious enough to 
(279) 


280 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


sustain him amid the fatigues of his cold and harassing 
march. 

The Leatherstockings of the American frontier, in their 
far westward wanderings; the Mormon enthusiast, in his 
search for the latter-day Zion yet to be established on the 
shore of the lonely inland sea, and the swarms of gold- 
hunters hurrying to take possession of the new-found 
El Dorado of the Pacific, all hailed with delight the first 
glimpse of the shaggy herds; while the band of explorers 
under Fremont, gaining at length the freedom and plenty 
of the Buffalo-range, when Carson had killed for them a 
Buffalo cow the fat of which was two inches thick, made a 
great feast, and until long into the night held high carni- 
val in honor of reaching the land of plenty, where gaunt 
hunger no longer crowded for a front seat by the hunter’s 
camp-fire. 

Nowhere else on the earth had so large a game animal 
been distributed in such vast numbers over the face of a 
continent. In the language of an old hunter, the plains 
were ‘‘one vast robe!’’ And surely never, in all the rec- 
ords of our planet, was chronicled another such a story of 
multitudinous slaughter, of any part of the brute creation, 
as is contained in that of the extermination of the Amer- 


ican Buffalo. They have vanished from the face of advane- 


ing civilization as mist-clouds vanish before the rising sun. 
A little handful of their number, wisely protected by the 
fostering care of the United States Government, yet find an 
insecure retreat among the mountain fastnesses of the Yel- 
lowstone National Park; yet the mighty herds which but 
a few short years ago swarmed innumerable upon the great 
plains are to-day extinct. Their bleaching bones have long 
since been gathered for fertilizers, and the furious rain- 
storms of the plains are fast obliterating all traces of their 
old wallows. 

Yet the American Bison was a hardy animal, and, until 
the coming of the European, was more than a match for 
Wolves, Bears, and for the myriads of Indians who fed 
upon him. The color of the Buffalo was a dark brown, verg- 


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DELIBERATION. 


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THE BUFFALO. 281 


ing upon black; his muzzle, horns, and hoofs, black; his 
head and shoulders massive in size—the shoulders ‘rising 
in a hump a foot or more in height; his hips low and 
small, but well rounded; his tail shorter than that of the 
domestic ox, slim and smooth, tipped with a tuft of long, 
black hair; his legs, below the knees, wonderfully slender 
for so huge an animal; and the weight of a fully developed 
male probably not less than two thousand pounds. 

His horns were short, and large at the base, tapering 
rapidly to a point, and curved in the best shape for attack - 
or defense, as many an untrained horse found to his cost; 
and these formidable weapons were, in the case of the male, 
almost completely hidden in the mass of long, curly, black 
hair which enveloped his head, neck, and shoulders, and 
which gave to him, when seen in front, a peculiarly Lion- 
like and very formidable appearance. 

The female, in shape of body, resembled the male—high 
at the top of the shoulders and low at the hips, but desti- 
tute of mane, and with her body covered, as were the hind 
quarters of the male, with a coat of short, thick hair, 
underlaid in winter with fine, soft fur. The scent of the 
Buffalo was very keen, and his speed almost equal to that 
of the horse. 

Among his numerous natural enemies, the Indian and 
the large “Gray or Buffalo Wolf worked his greatest destruc- 
tion, although many different animals preyed upon the 
weak and the defenseless of the herds; and Daniel Boone 
is said to have once shot a huge Panther while the fierce 
brute was clinging to the back of a Buffalo, in the days 
when Kentucky was yet the ‘‘dark and bloody ground” 
of the savage. 

With the advent of the European came improved 
weapons and greater intelligence to the work of destruc- 
tion, and the extermination of the Buffalo began. The 
half-breed Indians of the Red River of the North, who for 
many years hunted Buffaloes, and fought the Dacotahs on 
the plains to the southwest of the Selkirk Settlement, were 
among the first to reduce Buffalo-hunting to a system, and 


a i a le ie ei ae 


Sn 


282 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


for generations safely depended upon this animal for the — 
support of their families. 

Each hunter was outfitted with one or more ponies to — 
be used in running Buffaloes, and with a strange kind of 
home-made, two-wheeled cart, made wholly of wood (not 
so much as a linch-pin of iron in all the train), and drawn 
by a single ox working in shafts. Their primitive caravan, 
quite independent of roads, moved freely in any direction 
across the broad plains; and as the cart-wheels were never 
greased, their coming was heralded by a most unearthly 
screeching. At night, the carts were drawn up in the form 
of a circle, and after the oxen and ponies had grazed, they 
were driven inside the inclosure and the gap closed, ren- 
dering a night stampede impossible. 

When Buffaloes were sighted, the mounted hunters 
approached them armed with flint-lock shotguns loaded 
with ball, and with a powder-horn with a large vent (in 
order that powder might run rapidly from it), from whie: 
the stopper had been removed before the chase began, and 
with the mouth filled with musket-balls just small enough 
to roll freely down the gun-barrel. When their fire had 
been delivered, the hammer and pan-cover of the gun were 
drawn quickly back, the muzzle of the gun elevated, the 
open powder-horn inverted, and its contents permitted to 
run freely into the gun-barrel until the hunter judged that 
a sufficient quantity had run in, when the horn was 
dropped and allowed to fall into its position, right end up, 
by the hunter’s side. The muzzle of the gun was then 
drawn up to the hunter's lips, a bullet dropped into it, and 
the wild, rough rider was ready for another victim. All 
this had been done with the horse racing at top speed. 
By keeping the muzzle of the gun elevated, and only 
depressing it at the instant the quick aim was taken and 
the trigger pulled, it was no uncommon thing for half a 
dozen Buffaloes to be slain by a single hunter in one mad 
race. 

Five good milch-cows were vainly offered for the first 
Sharp’s carbine ever introduced on the Red River. 


THE BUFFALO. 283 


A most singular accident occurred, many years since, 
during the march of a party of these half-breeds in search 


of Buffaloes. While the long line of slow-moving carts was 


- erawling over the plain, a large bull Buffalo was seen on 
the left, running rapidly toward the caravan, at right- 
angles with its line of march. His course was down the 
wind, which blew strongly, and consequently he neither 
heard nor smelled the carts until close upon them. The 
men scattered along the left side of the train, supposing 
that when the Buffalo should see the caravan he would 
swerve to the right or left. They were amazed, however, 
to see that the huge bull, detecting at last the immediate 
presence of his foes, and seeing at the same instant a 
gap in the close line of carts, charged straight for it, 
to go through the line. . At this a loud ery was raised, 
which attracted the attention of a man on the other side 
of the carts, and seeing the gap, he also attempted to run 
through it, to learn the cause of the unexpected uproar. 
Just as the Buffalo entered the gap, the man, slightly in 
advance of the opening, ran around the tail of the cart, 
and caught sight of his dreaded foe at the very instant of 
the impending collision. Instantly lowering his massive 
head, the great bull, with a vicious upward stroke of the 
terrible black horn, caught the poor fellow under the chin, 
and, with instantly broken neck, he was hurled high in the 
air, to fall limp and dead upon the ground, while the great 
brute galloped away over the plain, leaving the companions 
of the fated man too stupetied with horror to avenge his 
death. 


Three principal causes of the extermination of the Buf- 
falo followed in regular order. First, the introduction 
of the liquor traffic among the Indians of the plains, 
thereby stimulating the slaughter of the Buffaloes, and the 
dressing of robes with which to purchase this fiery curse 
of the Indian race. The unscrupulous liquor-trader sought 
the gathering-places of the western tribes, and, at the fre- 
quent risk of his own life, conducted his infamous traflic, 


284 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


when a small tin cup full of liquor was the regular price 
fora pony or a robe. As the orgies of the savages grew 
more frantic, and as their drunkenness deepened, the watch- 
ful trader, becoming a cunning workman in the cause of 
temperance, slyly inserted first one, then two, and finally 
three of his fingers into the little cup while measuring out 
the liquor; and the potations of the stupid Indians grew 
less in quantity as their wealth decreased. Finally, after 
having stripped the camp of its last robe—often the last 
covering of the bed of the Indian mother and her children 
—the greedy trader, urged to speed by the fear of vengeful 
pursuit, hurried night and day toward civilization, eager 
to place as great a distance as possible between his load of 
ill-gotten spoil and its legitimate owners before the stupor 
of their intoxication had subsided, and they had become 
fully aware of the depth of the degradation into which 
they were plunged by this unholy trade. May the wealth 
acquired by this worse than infamous traffic perish with 
those who accumulated it! 

Aside from this nefarious traffic, the legitimate trade of 
the regular fur companies had grown to colossal propor- 
tions. The amazing number of Buffaloes slaughtered by 


the Indians of the plains is indicated in the following — 


report of a partner in the American Fur Company (Mr. 
Sanford), made to Lieutenant Fremont, in 1843, and which 
is worthy of the most careful study: 


The total number of robes annually traded by ourselves and others will not 
be found to differ much from the following: American Fur Company, 70,000; 
Hudson’s Bay Company, 10,000; all other companies, probably, 10,000; making 
a total of 90,000 robes as an average annual return for the last eight or ten 
years, : 

In the Northwest, the Hudson’s Bay Company purchase from the Indians 
but a very small number, their only market being Canada, to which the cost 
of transportation nearly equals the produce of the furs, and it is only within 
a very recent period that they have received Buffalo-robes in trade; and out of 
the great number of Buffaloes annually killed throughout the extensive region 
inhabited by the Comanches and other kindred tribes, no robes whatever are 
furnished for trade. During only four months of the year (from November 
until March) are the skins good for dressing; those obtained in the remaining 
eight months are valueless to traders, and the hides of bulls are never taken off 


itl bile 


THE BUFFALO. 285 


or dressed as robes at any season. Probably not more than one-third of 
the skins are taken from the animals killed, even when they are in good season, 
the labor of preparing and dressing the robes being very great; and it is seldom 
that a lodge trades more than twenty skins in a year. It is during the sum- 
mer months and in the early part of autumn that the greatest number of 
Buffaloes are killed, and yet at this time a skin is never taken for the purpose 
of trade. 

What a record of slaughter is this! 

Next in order came the invention and development of 
the modern breech-loading rifle, the highest type of which, 
in the estimation of the successful Buffalo-hunter, was, 
unquestionably, the heavy-barreled, double-triggered Sharp. 
It is often remarked by western hunters that the Sharp rifle 
exterminated the Buffalo. 

And finally came the last factor in the problem of the 
extinction of the Bison-—the building of the Pacific rail- 
roads. This opened up the very heart of the Buffalo-range 
to the last of the scavengers—the indefatigable skin-hunter. 
It also checked the wanderings of the herds, and limited 
the area of their range. 

An intelligent Sioux Indian, of the Santee tribe, with 
whom the writer became acquainted while trapping furred 
animals in Dakota, twenty years ago, after describing to 
him the last Buffalo-chase he ever “enjoyed; during which 
a wandering band of forty-seven Buffaloes were all slain, 
added: . 

‘¢T told the other Indian boys, then, that the railroad was 
now built across the plains, which would stop the march of 
the Buffaloes, and that if we lived for a hundred years we 
would never see them here again.” 

Many able assistants in the final work of the skin- 
hunters were found in the crowds of settlers along the 
frontier, who hunted for meat. Nothing but the hams of 
the Buffaloes were brought into the settlements by the fall 
hunting-parties, and at times the choicest meat went begging 
at five cents a pound. 

The favorite method of the skin-hunter was to crawl 
within rifle-shot of a herd, and, while lying prone upon the 
earth, to open fire with his heavy rifle, with its heavy ball 


286 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


of five hundred grains or more in weight; and the stupid 
Buffaloes, not seeing anything in the whole range of their 
vision save a very innocent-looking little smoke-cloud, and 
(the wind favoring the hunter) hearing but a slight report, — 
would often stand until, one by one, to the last member of 
the band, they would be piled in unsparing slaughter on 
their native plains. 

Following the line of the newly constructed Pacific rail- 
road, as a continually advancing base of operations, the 
skin-hunter ‘‘carried the war into Africa,’ and the shat- 
tered remnants of the once mighty herds, exposed to the 
converging fire of hungry Indians and greedy whites, 
melted like snow under a summer’s sun. 

The war was ended—the chase was done; whitening 
bones and bleaching skulls alone marked the path of the 
leaden cyclone of suffering and death, and the Bison of 
America, together with the Mastodon, and the Great Auk 
of the northern seas, lives only in history. 

The impulsive and pardonable wrath of the American 
sportsman, who, as he contemplates the extermination of 
the Buffalo, feels inclined to hold up to universal execra- 
tion the Buffalo-skin-hunter, is little felt or shared by the 
philosophic naturalist. Much as the latter may be inclined 
to regret the disappearance of so interesting and valuable 
an animal, a careful consideration of the subject prompts 
him to graceful acceptance of the inevitable in the disap-- 
pearance of the Buffalo, as he fully realizes that the pres- 

ence of vast hordes of animals as gigantic, as stupid, and 
as intractable as the Bison, would inevitably have been, 
if stringently protected by law, a menace and hindrance to 
advancing civilization. Only small bands of these animals 
could have been secured from the eager hands of unscru- 
pulous, law-breaking hunters, both white and red, as in the 
case of the small band already mentioned in the Yellow- — 
stone National Park, or in the guarded seclusion of private 
ranches or parks. 

The student of Indian history, also (who will not have 
failed to remember that permanent peace with the Indian 


THE BUFFALO. 287 


tribes of the great plains has ever been impossible of attain- 
ment so long as the warlike savage found an unfailing 
supply of meat wherever in his wanderings he raised his 
lodge-poles), in recollection of the bloody massacres of the 
_ past, and for the sake of the helpless women and children 
of his own race now scattered along the frontier in yet 
possible peril of the horrors of savage war, will incline 
toward an optimistic view of the question, and wisely 
conclude that the skin-hunter, with his big Sharp, instead 
of being the ogre of an untrained imagination, was not 
only a necessary evil, not only the necessary forerunner 
of civilization, but also that he was, after all, the true 
missionary! The imperative commands of Christian civili- 
zation were voiced in the roar of his big rifle; and with the 
extermination of their hitherto unfailing meat-supply, 
the red ferocity of the ‘‘ Arabs of the New World” grew 
pale, as did the scattered bones which outlined the funeral 
march of the Buffalo! 

The food-supply of a growing nation of people, already 
numbering more than sixty millions, imperatively demanded 
the use of the great plains for stocking the beef-markets of 
the crowded cities; and the lapse of less than a score of 
years has already demonstrated the wisdom of this demand, 
in the multitude of domestic cattle now roaming over all 
of the old Buffalo-range—a source of supply for the wants 
of man more necessary and reliable than that of all the 
wandering Buffaloes which ever lent the charm of their 
presence to the wild life of the plains. 


In the year 1872 came the writer’s personal. experience 
with the Buffalo. It was even then evident that they were 
fast passing away, and we were obliged to go one hundred 
miles farther for meat that year than did the hunters of the 
year before. The latter part of. June was selected for the 
start; for, although we would be obliged to dry or jerk our 
meat on the hunting-grounds, all reports from the game- 
region agreed that the Buffaloes were steadily moving west- 
ward, and that should we wait until fall, the game would 


Sa me eto ee 


288 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


be beyond our reach. The hunting-ground selected was the 


country lying between the Republican and Solomon Rivers, — 


in Nebraska, to the westward of a line running south of old 
Fort Kearney. 


Our party consisted of four men, with two teams of one 


span of horses each. M—— and his son E——, a young 
man of some twenty years, were with one team, while 
Y—— and I drove another. All were tenderfeet except 
Y——, who had been a night- ‘herder with a wagon-train on 
the plains for years. Through lack of saddle-animals, all 
the hunting had to be done on foot. M—— and E—— 
brought small-bored, muzzle-loading rifles, in which they 
appeared to have great confidence. Y—— carried a Spencer 
carbine, with forty rounds of ammunition, while I was 
armed with a Gallagher carbine, fifty-six caliber, using 
forty grains of powder. These were the best arms obtainable 
in our frontier settlement, and the choice of the most 
utterly worthless gun in America appeared to lie between 
the Spencer and the Gallagher. 

The point-blank range of the Gallagher was one hundred 
yards, and while at fifty yards it would sling its bullet a 
foot above the center of the target, at one hundred and fifty 
yards the ball dropped a foot or more below. It was there- 
fore necessary to get, if possible, within just one hundred 
yards of the game. The Spencer appeared to have a some- 
what flatter trajectory, judging from the few instances, 
during the targeting of the carbines, when we found means 
of ascertaining which way the balls really went; but 
as its bullets did not seem to be at all partial to any 
particular direction, all were well satisfied when at the 
close of the hunt its forty rounds of ammunition had 
actually killed two Buffaloes without crippling a single 
hunter. 

Our road ran westward until, at a point on the Platte 
River a few miles west of Fort Kearney, it turned south 
toward the Republican River, distant some fifty miles, 
where we forded the stream and camped on its right bank. 
The hot weather compelled us to travel slowly, and the one 


Pe ne me 


THE BUFFALO. 289 


hundred and fifty miles of the journey consumed a week’s 
time. 

After leaving the Platte River, the road entered the sand- 
hills, and as the country looked favorable for hunting, 
E—— and [I started to hunt together, ona line parallel with 
the course of the slow-moving wagons, in the hope of find- 
ing an Antelope. After an hour’s tramp over the sand, a 
fine buck Antelope .was sighted feeding quietly in a little 
hollow surrounded by sand-hills, and we proceeded to stalk 
him as quietly as possible. A low sand-hill to the leeward 
of the unsuspecting quarry covered our advance until 
within one hundred yards. While still three hundred yards 
distant from our contemplated victim, the sage boy stopped, 
and in a hoarse whisper asked: 

‘‘How are we going to get that Antelope to the wagons 
after we have killed him?’’ 

*“We will not have any trouble in carrying him,” I 
replied; for I had been there before. 

We crept to the top of the sand-hill, cocked our guns, 
and slowly raised our heads above the grass to get a stand- 
ing-shot at the sharp-eyed rascal. A red streak speeding 
over the opposite sand-hill rewarded our eager gaze, and 
having vainly sent a couple of bullets in chase of the flying 
brute, we shouldered our guns and marched dejectedly back 
to the wagons. 

The Antelope in this part of the country had been much 
hunted, and had long ago been educated beyond the point 
of paying any attention to flags, lures, etc., further than to 
fly ike the wind in the opposite direction at the first sight 
of them, and had taught a crest-fallen hunter about my size 
that the sharpest-eyed brute that ever wore hair is the 
much-hunted Antelope of the plains. I have, on many 
occasions, caught first sight of them, but rarely have I 
been able to creep up and deliver my fire without being 
caught by that gaze which seems to sweep the horizon 
without an effort. 

About half-way between the Platte and Republican Riv- 


ers, we saw our first Buffaloes. A band of half a dozen bulls, 
19 


290 ‘BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


chased by a mounted hunter, crossed our road half a mile 
in front of the wagons, and although we tried hard to head 
them off, we failed to secure one. A few miles farther on, 
we met a hunting-party leaving the range, and leading 
behind their wagon a horse which had evidently been used 
for running Buffaloes, and whose breast was ripped open in 
a most horrible manner, a long slit commencing between the 


fore legs and running up clear to the bottom of the neck. — 


We inquired the cause of the horse’s wound, and were 
told that it was caused by the collar of the harness, the 
unlucky hunter evidently being unwilling to confess his 
failure to stop the charge of an infuriated Buffalo bull 
with the breast of his untrained horse. 

Nearing the Republican River, we met a man driving a 
pony-team, and inquired of him where the main herd of 
Buffaloes was. He replied: ‘‘ Cross the river at the first ford 


you can find, go out on the hills to the south, and the whole _ 


world is black !”’ . 

Eagerly we pressed on, forded the shallow stream which 
ran swiftly over its wide bed of sand, and, gaining the south 
bank of the river, drove toward a grove of cotton-woods a 
mile or two above, to find fuel necessary for camp use. 

As we turned the horses’ heads up-stream, a large bull 
Buffalo appeared, walking rapidly from a ravine in the low 
hills to our left, across the bottom-land, toward the river. 
The day was fearfully hot, and the great brute was mani- 
festly eager for water. Catching sight of the approaching 
wagons, he stopped to look, but apparently reassured by 
the slowness of our approach, he again walked swiftly on. 
He was now less than half a mile distant, and while Y—, 
who had’ seen such sights a thousand times, coolly con- 


tinued the advance, driving the leading team, the other 


team was left to follow the wagon in front, while’ three 
excited tenderfeet, snatching their guns from the wagons, 
crept along close behind the leading wagon, watching 
with strangely beating hearts the advance of the mighty 
bull. He was very uneasy, and again stopped and gazed 
a few seconds at his advancing foes; then once again his 


Se ee eT EM 


THE BUFFALO. 291 


thirst overcame his fears, and with stately step the kingly 
brute came on. His course was diagonally across the 
_bottom-land, down the stream, and we neared each other 
rapidly. 

It seemed impossible for him now to escape us, and at a 
low signal we ran swiftly forward in front of the wagons, to 
get squarely across the path of his return to the hills. 
Quickly, as though on a pivot, he turned, and for the first 
time in our lives we saw the speed of a thoroughly fright- 
ened Buffalo, as he dashed across the level ground, still far 
in advance, and, in spite of our flying bullets, gained the 
hills unscathed. 

The whole western sky was now rapidly filling with 
angry-looking clouds, and as the sun sank to the horizon, 
the darkness came on quickly. Reaching the camp-ground, 
we had only time, after a hurried supper, to put things to 
rights, and fasten the wagon-covers more securely (for we 
had no tents), when it grew dark, and the storm burst upon 
us. Nearly all night it raged. Rain fell in sheets, while 
the almost incessant flashes of lightning illuminated the 
wild scene. The cowering horses, arching their backs to the 
falling rain, turned away from the coming blast, while 
the great cotton-woods, bowing their stately heads toward 
the plain, writhed and twisted as they wrestled with the 
gale; and the hunters drew the damp blankets closer around 
their ears, and wished for the day. 

With the darkness of night the storm passed away, and 
the morning sun shone brightly on the water-soaked plain. 
All our plans for the hunt were now changed. Heretofore 
we had planned to lie in ambush for the thirsty Buffaloes as 
they came down from the hot plains to drink; but now, 
when every ravine ran full of water, and every old Buffalo- 
wallow was a brimming cistern, it was evident that if we 
were to secure Buffalo-meat sufficient to load the wagons, 
we must climb the hills for it. 

M—— and E—— accordingly ascended to the southeast, 
Y—— remained.to take care of camp, and I, shouldering 
the formidable Gallagher, wandered southward. 


292 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Following up a deep ravine, or valley, for a couple of 
miles, straggling Buffaloes began to appear on the hills, and 
a herd of several hundred came in sight on the divide to 
the right. A band equally large soon showed up on the 
divide to the left. 

This began to look like business, and I stopped to plan 
an approach to the strange game, of whose habits I knew 
next to nothing, when I saw two large bulls leave the herd 
on the right and walk down the hill as though intending 
to cross the valley to the herd on my left. 

Here was my opportunity. They would evidently cross 
the ravine half a mile in front of me, yet, as they were 
nearly a mile distant, I would have plenty of time to run 
forward, under cover of the bank, and secrete myself in 
front of them. Hurrying forward, I took position where 
I thought they would cross, and, not without consider- 
able anxiety, awaited their approach. There was no 
chance of escaping the possible charge of a wounded 
bull should he sight me, nor could the oldest man in 
America tell where the Gallagher would carrom on the 
Buffalo should he be either more or less than one hundred 
yards distant. 

After a long time, and when I began to hope that they 
had turned back, they suddenly appeared in the ravine 
two hundred yards above me. One was the hardest-looking 
old ‘‘moss-back’’-—a term applied to the very old bulls, 
which were late in shedding their old coat of hair—I have 
ever seen; while the other was a splendid specimen—full 
grown, glossy black, fat and round—and I determined, as he 
stepped quickly across the bottom of the ravine and began 
climbing the opposite hill, to get him if possible. — 

It was useless to fire at that distance, so, observing that 
they were keeping on the crest of a hog’s back or ridge that 
rose between two small ravines fributary to the main one, 
I crept forward into the little ravine running parallel with 


their line of march, and, as they slowly climbed to the | 


high plateau above, vainly tried to get a shot at the big, 
black fellow without being seen by them. 


ee re TY 


— 


; 

& 

t 

?: 
a 
.§ 
Py 


THE BUFFALO. 293 


The black one walked in front, while the old moss-back, 
whose wrinkled hide had apparently shed the snows of 
sixty winters, and whose races with the ponies of many a 
Pawnee and Ogalalla, long since dead, had stiffened his 
rheumatic old joints, crept wearily after him, as though in 
search of a good place to lie down and die. 

Near the head of the ravine they stopped; and for an 
hour I waited for the old skeleton to walk on and give me 
a shot at the other, which stood just beyond him, and at 
which I could not shoot without exposing myself, which I 
dreaded to do with the wretched gun I carried. Finally I 
grew weary of waiting, and determined to start him. Ris- 
ing up, | judged the distance at one hundred yards (it 
afterward proved to be about fifty), and fired. 

Tom Hood, describing the sudden release of boys from 
the school-room, says: 


“* There were some that ran and some that leapt, 
Like troutlets in a pool!” 


Not a boy of all the class, however, could have skipped 
with this suddenly rejuvenated old Buffalo. The man who 
would ‘‘ caper with him for a thousand mark” would be 
badly left, indeed. He seemed to rise up on his hind feet 
and pirouette with the agility of a Fanny Ellsler, while he 
looked hungrily around for the man who had trod on the 


_ tail of his coat; and had an observer been convenient, a 


solitary horseman might have been seen, on foot, with hair 
uprising and an old Gallagher in his hand, as he sped down 
the ravine, looking eagerly for a chance to crawl into a 
prairie-dog hole or climb up among the top limbs of a sage- 
bush. The Buffalo had evidently been hit up‘in the hump, 
with the result of making him ‘fightin’ mad.”’ 

When my heart had gone down in my body, and I was 
enabled to draw air into my lungs again, I found that they 
had both run on and joined the herd on the divide; and on 
trying to crawl within gunshot once more, some straggler 
caught sight of me and gave the alarm, when the whole 
herd run southward out of sight. The firing, and the panic 


294 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


among them, had alarmed the others far on the west side 
of the valley, and they all ran off southward. 

Slowly, and crest-fallen, I tramped back to camp. 
M—— and E—— coming in, reported having killed a Buf- 
falo at the first fire, but this proved to be a wounded one, 
and unfit to eat. Wounded Buffaloes were to be found 
everywhere. The settlers along the frontier came with all 
known weapons in search of meat, and Buffaloes were shot 
with anything that would burn powder. Skin-hunters had 
been on the ground ahead of us, as the stripped carcasses 
proved, but we did not meet any. In fact, the land stunk 
with rotting Buffaloes, as the breeze many times testified 
when not a carcass was in sight. 

Around the camp-fire that night the situation was dis- 
cussed at length. Y——, who did not care to hunt, as it 


was old sport to him, and as he knew that his gun was 


worthless, kindly volunteered to haul the meat to camp and 
let us tenderfeet do the hunting. In fact, he killed only 
two Buffaloes on the trip. E——, the boy, was a gentle- 
manly fellow, and, although eager to hunt, expressed his 
willingness to do whatever the others wished. 

M——, who, we had for some time observed, was not 
averse to letting us know that he thought Y—— and myself 
very small potatoes as hunters, now volunteered the state- 
ment that E—— and himself would have to do the killing. 
This was gall and wormwood to me, and, although nothing 
was said in reply, I inwardly vowed that the morning light 
would see the beginning of an effort to kill Buffalo, the 
best I was capable of making. 

In the morning, E—— expressed a wish to hunt with me, 
but, excusing myself, I sallied forth alone. M—— and E—— 
hunted together to the southwest, while Y—— kept the 
camp. | 
A mile or two out, I saw a very large Antelope feeding on 
the brink of a ravine half a mile in front, and as he, for a 
wonder, had not seen me, I ran down into the ravine and 
followed it up until opposite him, then crawled to the top 
of the bank, laid off my cap, and, peering carefully over the 


eee Pe ee 


THE BUFFALO. 295 


crest of the hill, saw him lying down, one hundred yards 
distant, looking back over his right shoulder at me. I had 
never yet killed an Antelope, and, taking careful aim, - 
fired. The ball struck behind the shoulder, passed for- 
ward between the shoulder-blade and ribs into the neck, 
and, ranging parallel with the windpipe, clipped three of 
the ridge-like projections thereon, and stopped in the flesh 
of his neck. 

Jumping to his feet, he ran some fifty yards, and I thought 
him unhurt, when, trying to draw his breath and the blood 
running into his lungs, he lowered his head, and the wheez- 
ing sound of his breathing gave notice of a hit. Still he ran 
on over the hill. Following, I jumped him again, shot him 
through the paunch as he ran; jumped him still again, and 
shot him through the heart, when he ran one hundred and 
fifty yards, and was not done struggling when I reached him 
—the hardest-lived animal I ever saw, for, be it remembered, 
the gun was fifty-six caliber. 

This seemed a lucky beginning of the day’s hunt, and, 
dressing him, I hurried on after Buffaloes. A herd soon 
appearing, I crawled up, and being careful of distance, suc- 
ceeded in killing a noble bull, and repeated the operation 
twice more during the day. Feeling jubilant at my success, 
I returned to camp, and had just told Y—— the story of 
my good luck when the others returned. 

‘* What Inck?’’ asked M——. 

‘*The boy has got three Buffaloes and an Antelope, x 
replied Y——, before I could speak. ‘‘ What luck did you 
have?”’ he continued. 

_ ** We have shot eight,’’ replied M——. : 

My heart sunk, for I had hoped to equal his score, and 
had worked hard for it. Not until I felt thoroughly hum- 
bled did we learn that they had shot at eight Buffaloes and 
succeeded in killing only one, which proved to be a 
wounded one, and E—— afterward told me it smelled so 
badly they did not go within thirty yards of it. 

Naturally enough, I felt better, and as M—— soon after- 
ward began telling, in a very modified tone of voice, of his 


6 SI 


296 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


ability to dry meat properly, and of his willingness to let 
E and myself kill the meat, while Y—— hauled it in, 
I began wondering what had happened to him during the 
day, to frighten him into giving up the hunt without kill- 
ing a single Buffalo. He never shot at another Buffalo 
from that day to this. 

Peace again reigned in Warsaw, for I was perfectly will- 
ing to hunt with E——, who was a very pleasant compan- 
ion; and, although he hunted alone the following day, 
while I piloted Y—— to the dead animals, yet during the 
three succeeding days we were side by side, and he was 
only prevented from accompanying me on the last day by 
the fact that his feet were too badly blistered to go. 

As the darkness fell around the lonely camp-fire, and the 
flitting shadows danced and waved along the edge of the 
surrounding gloom, the hunters drew near together in front 
of the cheerful blaze, and anecdote and reminiscence from 
the life-history of each served to pass the interval until 
bed-time; and, among the experiences that interested us, 
Y—— told us of a thrilling sight, when he, together with 
others of the wagon-train with which he at that time 
belonged, watched a race where a human life seemed for 
the moment not worth a straw, and where all the deeply 
interested spectators were powerless to avert the impend- 
ing doom. 

A young German, absolutely without experience, had 


_ 


recently joined the wagon-train, and being possessed of | 


an intense desire to kill a Buffalo, had borrowed a rifle 
from one of his companions, and, during the usual noon 
halt, one day, when Buffaloes appeared about a mile dis- 
tant, sallied forth alone, in quest of game. 

The prairie was nearly level, and while in plain view of 
the men of the train, he was observed to fire at a Buffalo 


cow, and, immediately and very imprudently showing 


himself to the cow, she dashed at him at full speed. The 
gun was a muzzle-loader; there was not time to reload, 
and the would-be hunter incontinently took to his heels. 
Seeing his imminent peril, Y——, together with several 


Te RP ye ee ee eee — i ahaa 


INE Een! EOD ee a Fay eee ae Ye ny 


THE BUFFALO. 297 


others, seized guns, and, mounting the nearest horses, sped 
on the almost hopeless errand of rescue. Away over the 
smooth prairie raced the thoroughly frightened German, 
- at right angles with the approach of his mounted rescuers, 
who were horrified to see that, long before they were near 
enough to give aid, the furious brute was at his very heels. 
Just at the instant when all looked to see the poor fel- 
low crushed to earth or tossed skyward, to the amaze- 
ment of all, the cow stopped short, and gazed steadily at 
the fleeing fugitive. The horsemen dashed up to him, and, 
said Y——, ‘‘ He was the palest man I ever saw.”’ 

He said that he had felt the breath of the Buffalo on 
his hands as he ran. The cow proved to be mortally 
wounded, and before the mounted hunters reached her, 
fell and died. 


Next morning, Y—— took the team, and with nothing 
in the wagon save a five-gallon keg of drinking-water, he 
and I set out for the dead Buffaloes. We drove up the hill 
and out on the great plateau stretching southward, and 
going slowly along over the smooth prairie, making but 
little noise, had just reached the crest of a low ridge, when 
right in front, within three hundred yards, appeared a herd 
of one or two hundred Buffaloes—bulls, cows, and calves. 

Away they went; and seeing that the ground was smooth 
in front, Y put whip to the horses, which seemed to 
enter instantly into the spirit of the chase and sprang 
forward at a full run, while the wagon bounded over the 
turf, causing us to cling tightly to the spring-seat, and the 
water-keg bounded and vaulted from side to side of the 
wagon-box, making a fearful racket, as we slowly gained 
on the flying herd. Coming within seventy-five yards, 
Y—— threw the horses on their haunches in his hurry to 
stop them, and, just as soon as I dared, overboard I went, 
Gallagher in hand. ; 

A big bull was sighted in rear of the herd, but instead 
of falling at the report of the gun, he sped on more swiftly 
_ than before. Another cartridge was quickly inserted, the 


298 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


gun elevated and fired at the herd, now huddled together 
in one solid mass. A fine young bull was seen to stagger 
a few steps and fadl, shot through the heart. 

On rushed the herd, now worse frightened than ever; 
and as we hurried on after them, we fairly shouted in tri- 
umph, for we saw that right in front of them ran a ravine 
which, we could see at a point beyond, was at least forty 
feet deep. 

The ravines in this light subsoil, torn out by the deluging 
rains which occasionally fall in this region, were generally 
broken off at the edges just as steep as soil could hang, and 
as the Buffaloes were sweeping on like a tornado, with little 
time to look before they leaped, we felt sure that our hunt 
was ended, the meat supply assured, and only regretted the 
unnecessary slaughter sure to follow as the fated herd 
plunged down the steep. 

Over they went, now some three hundred yards ahead of 
us, and we slackened our pace to a walk and began plan- 
ning how to get the meat of the slaughtered herd up the 
nearly perpendicular walls of the ravine. When within 
two hundred yards of the brink, to our, amazement, a Buf- 
falo appeared, clambering up the face of the other wall of 
the ravine, at a point that we afterward found taxed the 
climbing powers of a footman. Another and another came 
bobbing up, and we drew up the horses, utterly dumb- 
' founded to see that every one, even to the calves, had made 
the plunge in safety. 

This, to me, was one of the most noteworthy things that 
ever came under my observation. Many times afterward 
we saw Buffalo-tracks on the slight projections of the walls 
of these deep gullies, in places where we could only stop 
and stare. The shape of their limbs, too, seemed utterly to 
forbid their climbing such walls. 

As the bulls at this season of the year were fatter think 
the cows, a fact which was apparent at a glance, we 
naturally chose them for beef, and as, like all tenderfeet, 
we were ambitious to kill the largest specimen to be found, 
it followed that nearly all we killed were large bulls. Yet, 


® 


Saacee cans: fa 
Thies 


THE BUFFALO, 299 


when standing over the body of my first Buffalo, and 
noticing the extreme slenderness of the legs just above the . 
hoof, I then and there began to measure each and every one 
we killed for meat, beside large ones found dead—when 
they did not smell too badly. I found only one the hind 
leg of which I failed to span with the middle finger and 
thumb of one hand, and this one was a dead and swollen 
animal, killed several days before. The fore leg was a trifle 
larger, having a circumference about three-fourths of an 
inch greater. 

The size and weight of the Buffalo would seem to neces- 
sitate a leg as strong as steel for the down-hill plunges 
this animal can safely make. 

The ability of the Buffalo to climb up the most imprac- 
ticable steeps is noted by Fremont; and that fascinating 
writer, George Bird Grinnell (‘‘ Yo’’), who hunted Buffalo 
with the Pawnee Indians on this same hunting-ground, and 
- during the same year, describing the position occupied by 
a Buffalo cow on a slight projection of a wall of one of 
these deep ravines, says: ‘‘I shall never understand how 
that animal reached the position it occupied.”’ 

A word of explanation may here be necessary, in order 
to show why we were enabled to outrun a flying herd of 
Buffaloes with a two-horse wagon. 

The Buffalo is, or was, a strange animal, and in some 
respects closely resembles the pig. One of his peculiarities 
cropped out on this race. Had there been not more than a 
dozen animals, they would doubtless have outrun us with 
ease; but the stupid brutes in the front and center of the 
herd seemed to lose fear with the consciousness that others 
were between them and their enemies, and galloped steadily 
forward without hurry, while the thoroughly frightened 
ones inthe rear, nnable to force their way forward through 
the mass of their fellows, ran around the herd to the front, 
only to drop quickly into the pace of the leaders and gallop 
doggedly on, until they once more found themselves in the 
rear of the procession, ready to repeat the roundabout race 
again. Leaving the herd, that had fairly gained their free- 


3800 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


dom, we took the hams of the young bull and drove on. 
The number of hunters who have made a_ successful 
Buffalo-chase with a two-horse wagon is probably very 
small. 

A mile farther on, we saw, at some distance in front of 
us, four large bulls, two of which were lying down, and the 
others standing—all, as it afterward proved, fast asleep in 
the warm sunshine. Although we had no intention of 
running them, still, as they were directly in our course, 
naturally enough we were anxious for a shot. 

As we slowly approached, driving at a gentle walk over 
the smooth ground carpeted with Buffalo-grass, we saw 
that they were asleep, and actually drove within twenty- 
five yards before the one standing nearest us, hearing a 
slight noise, opened his little, pig-like eyes, and from under 
his heavy curtain of black hair for an instant stared 
stupidly at the strange apparition. The glance of indiffer- 
ence quickly changing to one of wonderment, and his — 
abject terror, were positively ludicrous. Away they went. 
Two balls failed to check the speed of the fattest, and they 
disappeared beyond a rise of ground half a mile away. 
Plenty of meat in camp that night caused general rejoicing, 
and from that time all were kept busy. 

I found E—— a delightful comrade, a true hunter, a 
good shot, and fully able and willing to do his part. The 
night of July 3d, he and I bivouacked on the range, about 
five miles from camp, in order to be near Buffaloes early in 
the morning, and were awakened on the morning of the 
ever-memorable Fourth by the howling of Wolves. 


Seventeen head of Buffaloes were killed in the course of 
our ten days’ hunt (not counting cripples), of which Y—— 
killed two, E—— five, and ten fell to my Gallagher. The 
hot weather was the worst drawback to an otherwise pleas- 
ant trip; but a goodly quantity of dried meat was loaded 
in the wagons when we left the range. - 

When the loaded wagons were at last turned in the direc- 
tion of civilization; when we had recrossed the sandy bed 


th ie A hr hae 


Tis ES Ce OS aes nee 


THE BUFFALO. 301 


of the rapid Republican, and had climbed the ridge to the 
northward, we paused upon its crest, and took a long look 
backward over the valley and the great plain stretching far 
to the southward, all wavy and shimmering in the rays of the 
summer sun; and, with a deep sigh of regret for the close 


of the exciting chase of America’s noblest game animal, 


turned at length toward the oncoming wave of civilization 
which was destined to uproot and destroy all of the old- 
time romance and poetry of the wilderness, entirely satis- 
fied that we had done our full share in the probably neces- 
sary work of exterminating the American Bison. 


BS ee er ees 


THE MUSK-OX. 


By Henry BIEDERBICK, 
Of the Greely Arctic Expedition. 


HIS animal derives its specific name from the pecul- 
iar flavor by which the meat of some of these 
animals is tainted. He averages in size about two- 

e thirds that of the Bison, but, on account of his 
great coat of hair, looks much larger than he really is. 
The Musk-ox seems to form a connecting-link between the 
Ox and the Sheep families, having many of the character- 
istics of each. He looks somewhat like a huge ram, his 
broad, rolling horns adding much to this similarity. He is 
covered with thick, long hair of a dark-brown color, which, 
however, changes somewhat with the seasons. Animals 
killed by our party in May proved to be much lighter in 
color than those killed later in the season. 

Under this coat of hair, the Musk-ox is covered with a 
thick sheeting of soft wool of the finest texture and of a 
light-brown color. 

The horns are large and broad, are formed somewhat 
like snow-shovels, and are used in removing the snow in 
order to reach their scanty food during the winter months. 
The meat is coarse-grained, but generally juicy and tender, 
especially that of the younger animals. The peculiar 
musky flavor can be obviated by dressing the animal as 
soon as killed. 

The range of the Musk-ox is extensive. He abounds on 


‘the northern shores of Greenland east and west as far as 


explored, on both sides of Smith Sound, and in Arctic 
America, from latitude 60° to 83° north, longitude 67° 30’ 
west, to near the Pacific Coast. Fossilized Musk-oxen have 


been found at Escholtz Bay, on the Northwest Coast, 
( 308 ) 


304 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


in Siberia, and in Northern Europe; but only one species 
of their living descendants is now found, and that is con- 
fined to the Arctic region of the Western Hemisphere. 

It has heretofore been supposed that the Musk-ox was 
a migratory animal; but as some of them were seen by — 
Sergeant Brainard and others of our party as early as 
March, when the snow is deepest and the temperature 
lowest, it must be taken for granted that he is a regular 
habitant of Grinnell Land and Northern Greenland all the 
year round. 

The Musk-oxen travel in herds, and it is but an excep- 
tion when one of them is found alone. This herding 
together gives them a better chance to defend themselves 
against their one enemy, the Arctic Wolf, and also gives 
them, through close contact, additional warmth and pro- 
tection against cold and winds. Animals traveling singly 
were generally found to be old bulls, who had probably 
been driven from their herds by their younger and stronger 
adversaries. 

The Musk-ox prefers the hill-country, but is often found — 
in the low, level countries, either along the coast or farther 
inland. He is called by the Eskimo Oo-ming-mung. These 
simple Arctic people live principally on seal-fat and whale- 
blubber. They occasionally, however, hunt the Reindeer, 
more for the purpose of procuring skins for elothing and 
bedding than for the change of diet. Still more rarely, they 
plan a trip into the interior in quest of the Musk-ox, both for 
the purpose of varying their bill of fare and of procuring the 
great, soft robes for bedding or for barter. In hunting this 
animal the natives use dogs—the same ones that are used in 
drawing their sledges over the inhospitable wastes of snow 
and ice that cover the habitat of these people. Their method 
of hunting the Musk-ox is most novel and interesting, and 
I can not describe it better than in the language of Lieut. 
Frederick Schwatka. In an article contributed to the Ameri- 
can Field, in 1889, that popular writer and explorer says: . 

‘When the native hunter has reached the Musk-ox 
country, and has built his snow-house on the shores of some 


THE MUSK-OX. 305 


Alpine lake in the hill-land, he prepares for his hunt. If 
there are three or four men and boys in the party, they 
will ‘beat up’ the country, so to speak, or give ita thorough 
search; that is, they will go out in as many different direc- 
tions as they can organize parties, boys going in pairs, while 
the older hunters go each by himself. No sledges are taken 
when on these excursions, and if Reindeer are seen, they are 
killed and their carcasses cached, as if they had come for 
such animals instead of the Musk-oxen. The day’s trip is 
as far as they can go and get back home by night, or often 
ten or twelve miles away in a straight line. 

‘*Tf a Musk-ox trail is found by a hunter, its age deter- 
mines his further action. If fresh, he will return and 
report it, and the next day will be given to the chase of the 
animals. Even if he sees the animals, he will do nothing to 
disturb them that day. If no signs have been seen by any- 
one, and their supplies warrant it, they will make another 
day’s march farther into the Musk-ox country, build another 
village of snow, and beat up the country again. Sometimes 
this is continued by making a huge detour, or half-circle, 
through the district supposed to contain the game. 

‘*Tf the signs are old, they will follow the trail with the 
sledges until it becomes fresh enough to warrant their stop- 
ping and building their snow-huts, and following next day 
as a hunting-party. 

“Once a fresh trail is discovered, however, everything 
is animation and excitement in preparing for the chase, 
which usually follows the day after the finding. The night 
before, the party retires early, to get some sleep before a 
correspondingly early start next morning; but the excite- 
ment generally proves too much, and it is really much later 
than usual before slumber settles over all. On such occa- 
sions the Eskimos have a way of seeking a soothing 
draught in a big pipe of tobacco, if they happen to have it 
with them, for it is by no means so abundant among them 
as it is with us, or even with the savages of our latitude, as 
their only supply is from trade with the whalers at exorbi- 


tant rates of exchange. 
20 


306 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


‘“The evening before, the noisiest dogs have a muzzle of q 
seal-skin thongs tied around their noses, to prevent their — 
making a clatter that would frighten away the game, should _ 
they, in their wanderings, come near enough to the village — 
to hear them. E 

‘‘When the morning breaks, everything is activity and 


bustle. The dogs are rapidly harnessed; those that are to be _ 


used for hunting, or bringing the Musk-oxen to bay, are 4 
fastened to the sledge by a separate ‘slipping-strap,’ so — 
that they can be taken out more readily or slipped at once, _ 


should the game be unexpectedly encountered, asinafog 


or heavy storm. The runners of the sledge are coated with 
ice, that the vehicle may pull easily over the snows;and 
when the long lash of the whip gives its first crack over the _ 
team of dogs, dawn is just emerging into daylight in the © 


east. As direct a line is made as possible to where the — 
trail was seen the day before, and the usual loudly resound- 
ing commands to the dogs, and the sharp cracking of the ~ 
whip; are subdued into much lower tones, for abit a 


reasons, J 

‘‘In an Alpine wonnies the sledge must wind Bee: a 
ably to keep on a fair grade; for not only the incline is 
against making a ‘bee-line’ for a place, but to cut across _ 
the ridges is to expose the icy coating of the sledge-runners 
to the rocks that peep through the snow where the wind — 
has blown most of it off, and this is fatal to the fragile shoe — 
that is so necessary to make rapid and easy going. sg 

“Once arrived on the trail, a ‘confab’ is hastily indubees ie 
in as to whether it is best to follow with the sledges or not. 
Within about a mile is as close as they desire to have these _ 
vehicles approach the game, unless everything is favorable _ 


to their hunting—as the wind in their teeth, the sun, if low, E 


behind their backs, ete. When the trail shows that the 


Musk-oxen are not far ahead—and a white man will marvel ~ 


at the acuteness displayed by these children of the North 


in reading the signs on a trail as truly as if it were a book— a 


the sledge or sledges are stopped, the hunting-dogs taken : 
therefrom, and their harness-traces, from fifteen to twenty 


® 


erase rt 


HEAD OF MUSK-OX, 


ccd 


Be 
Be ee 
Perhe rea 


A 


i er a 
Sec eee et 


THE MUSK-OX. 307 


feet in length, have their free ends, which were before 
attached to the sledge, tied to the waists of the hunters, to 
tow them along, as it were. 

**The hunting-dogs are not fed for a day or two before 
the chase, if it is known about when it will be likely to 
take place, as hunger makes them keener on the trail and 


a - more energetic in holding the animals at bay when they 


have once been stopped. It should be said, however, that 
the Eskimo dog is only fed every other day, even when 
there is plenty, and often only every third day if there be 
but a small supply in the canine commissary. 

‘**Each hunter takes from one to three dogs, according 
to the number to be had, and starts at once on the trail, the 


:. _ sledge being left with some boys; or, if they are fortunate 
in having guns, and thus enjoy the coveted ‘right of going, 


with their elders, a couple of women, who have come for 
the purpose, remain with the sledge, and just enough dogs 
to haul it conveniently when empty, and thus insure their 
not running away with it. The persons remaining behind 
have orders to follow on the trail slowly, until firing is 
heard, when they are to press forward with all haste. 

“The hunters, with guns on their shoulders or held in 
their left hands, trot along, dragged by the dogs, and guid- 
ing them with the right hand holding the taut harness- 
traces. The gait slowly increases until it becomes a run 
that the most enduring professional could not maintain a 


hundred yards through such snow, if alone, but which . 


becomes easy with the eager, excited dogs tugging at the 
traces around one’s waist. In fact, it becomes hard to avoid 
running, and running like a Deer, after one gets under 
headway, the only exertion necessary being to simply raise 
the feet, while the dogs furnish all the motive power that is 
needed, and oftentimes a great deal more than is wanted. 
“Tf the uninitiated Nimrod should fall, and he is 
attached to two or three good dogs, the speed will not 
materially slacken on that account, although he may break 
_ a fewribs on the projecting stones. His only chance of 
escape is by unslipping the dogs, which he has been warned 


308 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


a score of times against doing until the Musk-oxen are in 
sight. It is wonderful how far and how easily one can run 
in this way, and if the leg-museles are in good condition it 
takes but a few minutes to place a number of miles to one’s 
credit. 

‘* When the advanced hunters sight the game, they wait 
only until they see it start in flight, when, with a dexterous 
twist, the slip-knot is thrown, and the dogs are let loose 


to bring the cattle to bay as soon as possible. These hunt- 


ing-dogs will not bark until they are thus loosened (it is 
this distinction solely that makes a good or bad Musk-ox 
hunter, and whether he shall go on the trail or be left with 
the sledge), and then they send forth the loudest bayings 
that ever came from dogs’ throats, especially when the 


Musk-oxen have formed a circle of defense, and the dogs 4 


have formed another circle around them. 
‘‘Tt is a singular sensation when one slips his dogs from 


their hold around his waist. From feeling as if he had 4 


wings and were flying along the ground without effort, it 
now seems as if his gun had suddenly changed to a fifteen- 
inch columbiad, and his feet feel as if encased in leaden 
boots. Although he may be within a hundred yards of 
the bayed beasts, and may have run a mile to get there, 
that mile will have been easier than the short distance he 


= 


has ahead of him. Yet, if he waits to slip the dogs until he _ 


is where he wants to stop, the knot may suddenly become 
unaccommodating, and if the dogs dragged him right up 
to the interior line of battle, his huge form would be sure 
_to invite a charge from the nearest bull, that might end 
disastrously. 

‘‘In another way the more pugnacious dogs are liable to 
be treated to a genuine surprise from some equally pugna- 


cious Musk-bull that, charging him, gets the dog’s long, — 


flowing harness-trace under his feet and manages to keep 
it there for three or four steps, or until he is so close 
that the dog can not escape, when he is given an aerial 


ascent that may be repeated several times if he be not ~ 
lucky in getting his feet under him when he alights, or 


7 Ce Oe eee 


THE MUSK-OX. 309 


until some hunter shoots the juggling brute that is tossing 
the dog on its horns. There are some good Musk-ox 
_ hunting-dogs that seem to be always getting into this 
sort of trouble, and their owners then learn to tie their 


_ harness-traces in a bundle on their backs, just before they 


3 slip them. om 
‘*When the native hunters reach the herd they make 


sure of every shot, as the only danger is in wounding 


an animal, which, by its frantic efforts, might stampede the 
herd, and they are then exceedingly hard to bring to bay 
again; for not only are they more wary, but the dogs are 
-  hard.to coax away from the bodies of the first victims to 

_ pursue the others. With Winchester rifles, such as my 
_ party had, a herd would go down like the typical grain 
_ before a reaper, and the tragedy would.soon be over; but 
with muzzle-loaders, and one or two hunters to a large herd, 
it is slower and correspondingly more careful, but also 
_ more exciting work. Some of the bravest of them, in the 
_ days before fire-arms, would, knife in hand, pass through 
the circle of defense, fatally stabbing an animal at each 
passage until all were down. The battle over, the hides 
_ and horns are secured, and the party returns to its snow- 
village.” 


4 And now to return to the experience of our own party 
in hunting this game: 

When, in the afternoon of August 11, 1881, the good 
_ steamship Proteus, having on board the members of the 
_ Lady Franklin Bay Expedition (of which I was a mem- 
ber), Lieutenant (now General) Greely commanding, neared 
Discovery Harbor, in Lady Franklin Bay, we caught the 
first sight of one of these remarkable and little-known ani- 
mals, grazing on the steep sides of Cairn Hill. With his 
long, shaggy, matted hair and short legs, he looked, at this 
distance, somewhat like a huge caterpillar, as he slowly 
moved about, picking up his food—dryas octopetala, saxi- 
Sraga oppositifolia, salix arctica, and here and there a tuft | 
of grass. A party of us started at once to capture this, our 


310 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


first Musk-ox. After a short but exciting chase, during 
which the ox retreated higher up the hill, he was brought 
down by a well-directed shot fired by Mr. White, the boat- 
swain of the Proteus, who, being provided with an ice-gaff 
(a pole about ten feet long, with a sharp iron point and 
hook attached), was in better condition to climb the steep 
cliffs tian the other members of the hunting-party. The 
prize proved to be a large old bull, and we estimated his 
gross weight at a little over six hundred pounds, thotgh he 
probably did not dress more than four hundred, owing 
to the heavy head, skin, and other offal. 

While we were carrying the meat on board the vessel, 
Lieutenant Lockwood, with two other members of the 
expeditionary force, chased ten more Musk-oxen to the 
summit of a large hill on the south side of Mount Carmel, 
where they came to bay and were dispatched in short order. 
This was a favorable beginning, assuring us a fresh-meat sup- 
ply for some time to come, and augured well for the future. 

The Musk-oxen, when scenting danger, always retreat to 
some elevation near by, and upon the approach of the 
enemy they form in a perfect line, their heads toward their: 
foe; or, if attacked at more than one point, they form a cir- 
cle, their glaring, blood-shot eyes restlessly watching the 
attack; and I think it would go hard with the man or beast 
who, under such circumstances, might come within reach of 
their broad horns or hard hoofs. 

I had several opportunities of observing these maneuvers 
during my trip with Lieutenant Greely into the interior of 
Grinnell Land, in the summer of 1882. On this trip we 
saw hundreds of these animals quietly grazing in the val-_ 
leys along Lake Hazen, and there is no doubt in my mind 
but that they remain there all through the year, as their 
food can be found there in abundance. We passed close 
to some herds, which, on these level grounds, on sight- 
ing us, would form in line with the promptness and pre- 
cision of trained cavalry, and slowly wheel as we passed, 


their heads always fronting us, nat we had passed to a 4 


safe distance. 


THE MUSK-OX. 311 


They are easy to approach and kill, and when a party of 
- skillful and well-armed hunters find a herd of these ani- 
mals, it is seldom that one of the latter escapes alive, 
unless, for some reason, the hunters do not wish to kill 
them all. This result is largely due to their habit of 
standing at bay, as already described; and even if they do 
stampede (which rarely happens), they will, in the majority — 
of instances, soon return to the place wllato one or more of 
their comrades have been killed. Sergeant Long once 
found a herd of thirteen Musk-oxen at the head of St. 
Patrick’s Bay, and succeeded in killing nine of them and 
wounding another. The other three only escaped on 
account of Long’s ammunition having given out. 

The most exciting chase after these animals in which I 
participated occurred on June 13, 1882, on which day Ser- 
geant Connell killed two Musk-oxen within a mile of the 
station. While carrying the meat of these animals to our 
quarters, we discovered a herd of them on the summit of 
the Sugar Loaf, about eighteen hundred feet above the sea. 
Lieutenant Kislingbury, Frederick, Cross, Linn, and myself 
- started at once to capture them. We deployed, and Cross 
came upon them first; but they showed such a bold front that 
he was afraid to attack them alone, and cautiously retreated 
until Kislingbury and myself came up, when, together, we 
killed five of them in short order. At this juncture, we 


_ discovered that there were four little calves, about four 


weeks old, which we decided to capture alive. Two cows 


were still left, and we shot them so as to cripple ther, thus 
preventing their escape. We then surrounded the calves, 


Lieutenant Kislingbury keeping his eye on one of the 
~wounded cows, while I covered the other, so that we might 
dispatch them in case they showed fight. Three of the 
calves were captured quite easily, but the fourth was_ 
wild, and an exciting chase was the result. We killed the 
two wounded cows, and then tried to encircle the remaining 
calf, which, however, always found some means of escape, 
until at last it jumped into the arms of Frederick, who 
commenced shouting joyfully over his success, 


$12 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


But the fun was not yet over, for the calf was strong, 
and threw Frederick to the ground. He, however, held 
pluckily on, and the two came rolling down the steep hill 
together, when I luckily stopped them before they got 
fairly under way, otherwise this would have been Freder- 
ick’s last hunt on this side of the dark river. We carried 
the four calves to the station, where they were tenderly 
cared for, Sergeants Long and Frederick being the self- 
elected nurses. The calves were fed on condensed milk, 
oatmeal, soaked crackers, etc., and seemed to thrive very 
well at first; but as no vessel came in 1882, when the 
cold winter months set in they died, one after the other. 
The first one to die was Frederick’s pet, which he had 
named ‘‘ John Henry,” although it wasafemale. One of 
our brute dogs had chased and bitten it, injuring its shoul- 
der, which caused it to die shortly after. The other calves 
seemed to pine away after that, and on October 7th the 
last one died, and our hope of enriching the menagerie of 
the Smithsonian Institution with a live Musk-ox died 
with it. , 


STILL-HUNTING THE ANTELOPE. 


By Artuur W. pu Bray (‘‘GaucHo”). 


HAVE been requested by our brother sportsman, 
‘‘Coquina,’’ to write a chapter for his book, and 
have been intrusted with the one on the Antelope. 
I therefore cheerfully submit the following, and 

throw myself on the tender mercies of my readers, know- 
ing that several men who have written on this beautiful 
and interesting animal before me have left little that is 
new to be said. Still, I have had an extensive experience 
in hunting and studying the Antelope, and trust that I 
may be able to give some hints and suggestions that may 
be useful to beginners in this most delightful sport. 

The Antelope is one of the wariest and fleetest animals 
on this continent, and the sportsman who would hunt it 


successfully must study, carefully and patiently, its nature, 


habits, and characteristics. A brief description of it may 
not be amiss here, and this can not be given more tersely or 
accurately than in the words of that careful naturalist and 
graceful writer, the Hon. John Dean Caton, who, on pages 
22 and 23 of his charming book, ‘‘The Antelope and Deer 
of America,”’ says: 


Its size is less than that of the Virginia Deer. Its form is robust; body 
short; neck short, flexible. and erect; head large and elevated; horns hollow 
and deciduous, with a short, triangular, anterior process about midway their 
length, compressed laterally below the snag, and round above—horns situate 
on the superior orbital arches; tail short; legs rather short, slim, and straight; 
hoofs bifid, small, pointed, convex on top und concave on sides. No cutaneous 
gland or tuft of hairs on outside of hind leg. No lachrymal sinus or gland 
below the eye. Mucous membrane very black. Tips covered with short, 
white hairs, with a black, naked dividing-line in front of upper lip, 
extending from the mouth to and surrounding both nostrils. Face brownish- 
black, with sometimes reddish hairs upon it. Top of head, above the eyes, 

(313) 


314 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


white; cheeks and under side of head, white. Ears white, with dark line 
around the edges—most pronounced on front edges; a brown-black patch under 
each ear. Horns black, with yellowish-white tips. Top and sides of neck, the 
back and upper half of sides, russet-yellow; below this, white, except usually 
three bands of russet-yellow beneath the neck; white extending up from the 
inguinal region, involving the posteriors, uniting with a white patch on the 
rump. Tail white, with a few tawny hairs on top. There is an interdigital 
gland on each foot, a cutaneous gland under each ear, another over each promi- 
nence of the ischiwm, another behind each hock, and one on the back at the 
anterior edge of the white patch; in all, eleven. 


As to the habitat of the Antelope, Judge Caton says: 


We have no account or evidence that the Prong Buck was ever an inhab- 
itant east of the Mississippi River, and it only reached that river in the higher 
latitudes. It is now (1881) found only west of the Missouri River. Westward, 
it originally inhabited all the region to the Pacific Ocean, within the present 
limits of the United States, except the wooded districts and high mountain 
ranges. It was very abundant in California twenty-five years ago. My infor- 
mation is full that they were equally numerous throughout all the valleys and 
open country of that State. They were by no means uncommon in the open 
portions of Oregon. They are very scarce, if any exist, in that State now, and 
California is at this time almost deserted by them. Their native range 
extends from the tropics to the fifty-fourth degree of north latitude. Within 
the described limits, they do not invade the timbered country or the high, 
naked mountains. Their favorite haunts are the naked plains or barren, rolling 
country. If they endure scattering trees in a park-like region, or scanty 
shrubs, forests possess such terrors for them that these animals avoid them at. 
any sacrifice. 

There are many points in the natural history of this 
strange animal that I should like to dwell upon here, but 
space forbids. Many of its traits, habits, and peculiarities 
are, however, brought out in the following pages, in narrat- 
ing my experience, and that of others, in hunting it; but 
for a further and closer study of the animal than it is pos- 
sible to give in the space allotted me here, I must refer the 
reader to the work quoted above. 

September, October, and November are the best and, in 
fact, the only proper months in which to hunt the Antelope 
in the Northwest; but in the far Southwest, the legitimate 
season may be extended to include December. Whether or 
not the season be regulated by law in each State or Terri- 
tory, the true sportsman will not hunt game of any kind 
for sport during more than three or four months out of the 


STILL-HUNTING THE ANTELOPE. yO 


twelve. He will not disturb it during its breeding-season, 
nor while rearing its young. Nor will he, as a rule, take 
advantage of deep snows to pursue and kill it when it is 
unable to escape him, or to have at least a fair show for its 
life. 

2 As to fhe best arm for Antelope- hunting, une is great 
diversity of opinion among old prairie hunters, some pre- 
ferring one weapon and some another, each proclaiming 
emphatically that his favorite is the best; and the question 
will probably never be definitely settled to the ee eocone 
of all concerned. 

I will say, for myself, that I am perfectly familiar with 
most of the popular makes of English rifles, shotguns, and 
pistols, and that for my own choice I prefer the American _ 
repeater and revolver to any of foreign make. The former 
are fully as safe, accurate, and convenient, and as good in 
every way, as game-killers or weapons of defense, as any 
made in the Old World, while, in my humble opinion, the 
Winchester repeater and Smith & Wesson revolver stand 
at the head of the list of fire-arms, for general usefulness. 
The latter, aside from its intrinsic value and merit, is by 
far the handsomest pistol made. 

It would be absurd to compare a Winchester rifle, in 
point of appearance, with a Purdy Express, the former 
costing from $16 to $35, while the latter pulls the purse- 
string to the tune of say $500; but let both be tried as 
game-killers, and nine riflemen out of ten will do better 
execution when they have from five to ten shots at their 
fingers’ ends than if onlytwo. And in the event of being 
corraled by Indians, an old-fashioned 44 Winchester, 
with its sixteen shots to draw on, is worth more than any 
number of double guns; for, after all, those pistol-charges 
are spiteful, and the bullets are ugly things to stop with 
one’s hide at three or four hundred yards, as many a poor 
fellow has found out. 

Furthermore, I regard the Lyman front and rear sights 
- as indispensable to a game rifle—as much so as its hammer 
or mainspring; for although one may kill lots of game with 


316 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


open sights, yet let the Lyman once be tried, and its great 
advantages will become apparent. 

With this, by way of preface, I will proceed with some 
reminiscences of hunting experiences on the great plains, 
and meantime will give some hints as to how best to hunt 
the game in question; for, notwithstanding the relentless 
war that has been waged against the wary little denizen of 
the plains, there are localities where he may still be found 
in sufficient numbers to afford good sport. 

‘* Liver-Eating Johnson,” guide, scout, hunter and trap- 
per, prairie-man, Indian-fighter, thoroughly educated and 
equipped frontiersman at every point, graduate at the head 
of his class in prairie lore—withal, a long-headed, cool, and 
caleulating man—once said to me while hunting: ‘‘ What a 
live Antelope don’t see between dawn and dark isn’t visible 
from his stand-point; and while you’re a gawkin’ at him 
thro’ that ’ere glass to make out whether he’s a rock or a 
Goat, he’s acountin’ your cartridges and fixin’s, and makin’ 
up his mind which way he’ll scoot when you disappear in 
the draw for to sneak on ’im—and don’t you forget it.’’ 
Dear reader, pardon me for adding, ‘‘ And don’t you forget 
it, either.”’ 

The ostrich, with his vaunted power of vision, is com- 
paratively near-sighted when compared with the Antelope. 
The Giraffe may excel him, not from having superior eyes, 
but from their greater elevation, and therefore greater 
scope. The Deer is simply nowhere in this respect. Even 
when in the habit of roaming on the prairie, he has not the 
knack of detecting an intruder ‘‘on sight’’ as an Antelope 
has. Inever had any trouble in getting within two hun- 
dred yards of an ostrich, in any decent place; yet, with 
years of experience on these, and a great deal of other 
prairie-shooting, I at first found it difficult to get within 
six hundred yards of an Antelope, and then it was invari- 


ably a wide-awake one, fully able to take care of himself— ~ 


generally on the trot or zigzagging about, craning his neck 
to find out, I suppose, according to Johnson’s theory, 
whether my gun was really loaded with a ball or blank 


ae aR Tee 


SEO a CALA ag LENE TE a PFS ET 


STILL-HUNTING THE ANTELOPE. 317 


- cartridge. In certain localities remote from the haunts of 


man, they are comparatively tame, and may at first appear 
stupid and dull at “catching on.” But just try them 
where they have been hunted, and then report. My word 
for it, they will be found quite sharp enough to make it 
interesting. 

During the summers and falls of 1878 and 1879 I did 
nothing but shoot, and Antelope received the greater part 
of my attention. Having killed over two hundred and forty 
by actual count, I think that, at any rate, I gained some 
valuable experience, some of which I will try to impart. 
The principal -thing is to keep out of sight. Don’t delude 
yourself with the idea that because a band is a couple of 
miles away, apparently feeding, and all with their heads 
down, none are on the lookout, and that you may ride upa 
little closer and then keep out of sight. That won’t do; I 
know it to my sorrow. Thechances are ten to one that 
they will see you long before you see them, and although 
they may not move at first, still they are on the gwi vive, 
and if you get aclose shot after having shown yourself, 
why, just score it down as luck. 

My advice is to always hunt over broken ground and 
undulating prairie, for although you don’t see as many Ante- 
lope there as on level ground, still the chances are about 
twenty to one in your favor, as against the level country, 
when you do come across a band. Again, remember that 
when you reach the summit of the hill your horse’s head 
is in plain sight before you can look in the hollow beyond; 
so, if you are too lazy to dismount, alwajs skirt along the 
ridge for a few yards, stand well up in your stirrups, and 
takea good look. But this is the lazy and unprofitable style, 
and generally before you can check your horse the Antelope 
have seen you; and that settles it. So the best way is to 
dismount; lead your horse, with a good long lariat, so he 
will be some yards behind you; take off your hat (which, 
by the way, is also visible before you can see, your eyes 
being lower than the crown), and go slowly up until you can 
just see well into the ravines and on the hill-sides beyond. 


318 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Don’t be ina hurry. Take a cautious survey, as during 
the day it often happens that an old buck is lying down 
sunning himself on some gentle slope, when he may easily 
be mistaken for a stone; or perhaps a whole band may be 
feeding or wandering through these ravines, right under 
you, or deep down where the grass is freshest. This is more 
likely to be the case in the fall months, when the prairie 
grass on the level and high ground has become sun-dried 


and cured, in which case Antelope, and in fact all herbiv- 


orous animals, prefer the short grass, which is more tender 
in low, damp ground. 

If by good fortune you should chance to see one or more, 
walk back to your horse. Don’t pull him up to where you 
are. Take off your picket-pin, drive it in firmly with your 
heel, and be sure it is straight, as then it will hold better. 
Fasten your horse securely, and commence your stalking. 
After the horse is well off your hands, then you are all 


right; but be sure before you leave him that he can’t get 


away, or when you come back you may find your horse 
has disappeared, and then, as frequently happens, you may 
be fifteen miles from camp, which is quite a long walk, 
besides losing your saddle and accouterments; for although 
the horse may turn up, you will generally hear from the 
party who has found him that he was stripped. Whether 
he was or not, that is generally the story, so it pays to have 
the horse both tied and hobbled. . 


Now go steadily; keep the wind well in your face, and, | 


if necessary, do the very best creeping you can. Getas 
close as possible, and don’t shoot if you can’t get within 
three hundred yards. Never mind what you have doneata 
target, or what you see in print about long shots, and all 
that. I have seen dozens of as fine rifle-shots as ever put a 
rifle to shoulder, and I never sawa man yet who could count 
onan Antelope at more than three hundred yards. Remem- 
ber, it is fully equal to a five-point ‘in an eight-inch ring. 
Besides, if you miss this shot, you may at the same time 
scare away more game than you have seen in a week; so 
be steady. After crawling about and dragging yourself 


ee ee pie Tye i 


TET Ca eee 


STILL-HUNTING THE ANTELOPE. 319 


snake-fashion, it is well to take a good rest before firing, 


for, although you may think yourself steady, cool, and 


in good wind, it may only be over-anxiety; so just hold 


on a few minutes; scan the ground deliberately; calculate 


your distance; make all due allowances; push your gun 
forward, and, if a single-shot, place another cartridge in 
your mouth, bullet-end in; take good, steady aim, and— 
pull. 

Reload your gun instantly, whether the game is down or 
not. Another animal may jump wp that you had not 
seen. Better to be always ready, and accustom yourself to 
do all the waiting, for an Antelope has not much patience; 
and if only hit through the paunch, leg, haunch, or in fact 
anywhere but in a vital spot, he can still outrun any ordi- 
nary horse—even on three legs. In fact, I have seen some 
make it quite interesting for a cavalry-horse on two sound 
legsanda stump. Again, if only wounded, although fatally, 
he will be sure to go as far as he can, and then all your 
work may’only result in providing a square meal for 
a Coyote, and no saddles to show for it. So, I repeat, get 
as close as possible, and make as near a ‘‘dead-center’’ as 
you know how; and with all these precautions, many a one 
will get away without a scratch. 

Just behind the shoulder, and a little low, is the best 
place to hold for. When on the run, shoot well ahead and 
low, as a bullet that passes over an animal is lost, whereas 


‘ one that goes low, even if too low, stands a chance of break- 


ing a leg; besides, the failing is, and always has been, to 
overshoot, especially when taking quick shots. 

Although trained, since a mere boy of fourteen, to shoot 
at running and flying game with the rifle, I still find myself, 
even though trying at all times to guard against it, shoot- 
ing entirely too high. It is just as natural for a man to 
take in half of his front sight above the hind one as it 
is to get behind on very fast-moving objects. Indeed, it is 
extremely difficult, unless when shooting through a Lyman 
rear sight, to know just how much or how little of the 


sights are taken in; for it all has to be done quickly, and 


3820 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


the mind is so intent on the lead that the elevation is apt 
to be overlooked—no pun intended. 
The vitality of the Antelope, considering its size and 
weight, is truly wonderful. There is absolutely no give-up 
in them; and many a man has worn out a good horse in 
trying to run down one minus a leg, or one that had been 
shot clear through by several large bullets, any one of 
which would have killed a Deer on the spot. I have killed 
many an Antelope with one solid bullet; but, again, I have 
put two or three of these through many another that went 
off like the wind, as though he had only been frightened. 
That these poor creatures died from the effects of their 
wounds is very certain, but it is equally true that I, at least, 
never got a pound of the meat; so, as I was hunting for 


food as well as recreation, I gave up solid bullets alto- : 


gether, and confined myself to hollow-pointed ones exclu- 
sively. A fairer test of ammunition could not have been 
made, as I used the same rifle and powder-charge—every- 
thing exactly the same, but simply substituting a hollow- 
pointed for a solid bullet; yet the difference in the execn- 
tion was so striking that the most casual observer must 
have noticed it. I have no reason to believe that I shot 
closer to vital spots than before; nor did I get closer shots, 
nor more of them. . The dead Antelope, though, were there 
all the same, proving conclusively that, even if not driven 
by the heavy powder-charge, nor fired through the slow- 
twist grooves, the hollow bullet, as a killer, is so far superior 
to the solid ball that there is no comparison whatever 
between them. : 
Now, a body-hit meant. a knock-down, sure enough, 
while a raking shot—even ata slight angle—fore and aft 
was always a paralyzing one, and generally left the quarry 
so nearly dead at the instant of impact that a few con- 
vulsive kicks and spasms were all the signs of life remain- 
ing; while many and many a one was instantly doubled up 
like a rabbit—struck lifeless between bounds—and died a 
truly painless death. Indeed, years ago, when shooting on 
the pampas of South America, I discovered that a Double 


STILL-HUNTING THE ANTELOPE. 321 


Express Westley Richards rifle, forty caliber, shooting 100 


to 110 grains of Curtiss & Harvey powder, served me just the 


3 same way. With this rifle I shot hundreds of small Deer 
and ostriches, but never, until I used the hollow- pointed 


bullet, was I sure of my game unless I hit it just in the 
right place. With the Express ball, all places seemed more 
or less alike, so far as stopping further locomotion was con- 
cerned. The shock is so terrific that no small animal can 


q stand up under it, more especially, as I said before, if the 


bullet's course is quartering, for then the animal’s body 
catches the full force of the blow, aside from the tearing 
and smashing of a ragged-pointed ball, carrying all before 
it. 

For Antelope-shooting, then, or, in fact, for any kind of 
big game shooting, I prefer the Winchester, my choice being 
the repeater of large bore, say fifty caliber, with its 110-grain 
powder-charge and hollow-pointed, 300-grain bullet. Those 
preferring the single-shot need not swerve to any other 
make, as this company makes the best single-shot rifles, of 
all calibers from twenty-two to fifty; and were I using a 


.. single-shot rifle for Deer, Elk, Bears, or Antelope, my choice 


would be the forty- five caliber, shooting one hundred and 
twenty-five grains of powder and three hundred grains of 
lead—hollow-pointed ball. I must frankly admit, however, 
that I never could see where any single or double barreled 
rifle could, in any way, compare with a repeater—every 
advantage clearly going to the.many-shot rifle. 

I am partial to the Winchester rifles, for these reasons : 
They are safe, accurate, and durable; they are made in all 
calibers; they are sold at prices within the reach of all; as 
repeaters, they are more reliable than any other kind with 


: _ which I am familiar; as single-shots, they are quicker to 


load, less liable to get out of order, and, in my judgment, 
just a little better than any other single- loader made. The 
Winchester Company has proved itself imbued with a 
progressive spirit, and has catered to the ever-changing ~ 
and manifold wants of men of many minds and divers 


experiences. It is, furthermore, an essentially American 
21 


322 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


concern, and I believe that Americans should patronize 


American manufacturers. And, to cap the climax, the 


Winchester is about the only sporting-rifle that has come a 


up to the hypercritical and fastidious scrutiny of the Eng- 
lish sportsmen, than whom none are better judges, owing 
to their early education and vast experience. These men 
shoot wild and dangerous game all over the globe, and 
know a good rifle when they see it. Moreover, as none but 
the wealthy among them can indulge in such sport, the 
price paid for their weapons is a matter of no concern what- 
ever, its absolute reliability and accuracy being the sine 
gua non of the arm. When, therefore, the plain but thor- 
oughly sound and serviceable Winchester, costing say £4, 
supplants the elaborate double rifle of twenty times its 
value, something inherent to the Yankee rifle must be there 
to back it up. 

Aside from all this, memory carries me back to many a 
cabin, dotting a boundless plain, where upright in the 
corner stands the king of all rifles—ever-ready death-dealer 
—the Winchester; or, perhaps, carelessly swung to the 
antlers of some monarch of the forest, or resting on those of 
the now extinct Bison, together with the buckskin belt 
studded with cartridges, in which also hangs the best, hand- 
somest, most accurate revolver the world has ever seen— 
the Smith & Wesson. These are quasi the whole, or, at 
any rate, the most valuable furniture that adorns the 
cheerless cabin; but, of their kind, they stand to-day para- 
mount. On their merits the hermit occupant has been 
wont, mayhap, to trust his life against savage and beast— 
not a life the loss of which, perhaps, would be much 
mourned, or over whose grave eloquent orators, weeping 
women, or frantic parents might, with untold grief, lov- 
ingly and fondly linger, but his life, hisall. His scalp, his 
herd, and, if more fortunate than the great majority of these 

dauntless pioneers, his wife, his little ones, his dogs—all 
have been taught, by oft-repeated lessons and never-failing 
deeds, that his selection of weapons has been wise, for they 
never have failed him at the critical moment. With these 


STILL-HUNTING THE ANTELOPE. 323 


weapons he may have stood against human odds, or may 
have lowered the ferocious Grizzly, not with one or two 
shots, perhaps, but by pouring in such a deadly streak of 
lead that nothing could stand before it. 

. Swung to the wagon-bows of the erratic prairie-schooner, 
exposed to rain, dust, and snow, the old Winchester has 
dangled, magazine full to the hopper—taken down when 
needed, now to clip off the head of duck, brant, or grouse, 
now to riddle Coyote or Fox, now to fan the tail of cun- 
ning Jack or fleeing ‘‘ Swift;’’ now replaced in its slings 
without further ado. Seldom cleaned, and never thor- 
oughly so, yet, perhaps, to-morrow the lives of the whole 
party may depend on one or two of these deadly weapons, 
whose sharp and oft-repeated reports shall ring through 
the air, in contrast and defiant answer to the wild war- 
whoop of circling, seldom-visible savages. These are some 
of the reasons why I like the Winchester. 

If I have dwelt at greater length on the subject of rifles 
than seems proper, I trust I may be pardoned. My reason 
for so doing is, that we frequently see, in our sportsmen’s 
journals, the question asked, ‘‘ Why is the Winchester such 
a general favorite?’’ I have simply endeavored to show 
why it is such; and ‘‘them’s my sentiments.’’ Verily, I 
could not look on any Winchester and say otherwise; nor 
could I handle my old chum and companion, the forty-four- 
caliber Smith & Wesson, that has been so close to me since. 
early in the ’70s, and that has never failed me once. 

A target-rifle may be better for its purpose if narrow in 
the bore than if of large caliber. To merely perforate a 
piece of linen or paper, a thirty-two-caliber may be better, 
up to two hundred yards, than a forty-five or fifty caliber; 
I believe it is. There is less recoil, noise, and Fourth of July 
about it; but when it comes to up-ending a Deer, Elk, or 
Bear, I greatly prefer a forty-five or fifty caliber, as then 
one pill is generally a full dose. 

My experience in killing large game is identical, in many 
particulars, with that of perhaps the ablest writer on such 
topics that we have in this country—I mean Mr. T. §. 


324 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Van Dyke. LIagree with him that the larger the bullet the 
harder it hits, and so long as the trajectory remains as flat 
as may be, up to two hundred yards, I am willing to sacri- 
fice a trifle in accuracy if I can thereby add somewhat to 
the striking-force. I used a double rifle, of sixteen-gauge, 
for some time on Deer, and I can’t remember ever losing an 
animal fairly hit with it. 

It is absurd to taunt a man with using a rifle of large salt 
ber, and for such critic to consider himself more of a 
sportsman in that he uses a pea-shooter, for the greatest 
desideratum of any humane man ought to be to kill his game 
as quickly as possible, and not inflict hours, and perhaps 
days, of unnecessary suffering on a poor, inoffensive beast. 
A small bullet certainly will kill a Deer or Antelope if it 
hits him in a vital spot and with sufficient force; but as 
such shots are the exception rather than the rule, when 
taking all chances that present themselves, the use of any- 
thing smaller than a forty caliber is, to my mind, unsports- 
manlike. 

So long as nothing larger than a Deer is to be met with, 
the forty caliber may do very well. It is never as good, how- 
ever, as the forty-five or fifty. If an occasional Elk or 
Bear is to be encountered, then the 50-110-300 repeater 
is the proper arm. A large bullet, striking an animal 
spot for spot (in other than vital places), is always much 
more effective, for the simple reasons that it strikes a 
greater surface, is going with much greater force, crushes. 
bones more effectively, bleeds the animal more rapidly, and 
hence lets the vitality out of it sooner. 

I have not taken into consideration the far greater degree 
of danger attending the use of the small-bore rifle; for if a 
man chooses to attack a Grizzly with a 32-100 caliber, that 
_is his own affair, and he alone is taking the chances; but I 
claim that it is wanton cruelty to habitually shoot at large 
game with a small-bore rifle, since none but center-shots 
kill on the spot, while all, or nearly all, wounded animals. 
wander off to die a lingering death, especially where they 
can not be tracked or run down with dogs. 


STILL-HUNTING THE ANTELOPE. 325 


The claim put forth by many small-bore advocates, that 
a large bullet tears and mutilates the game, is so absurd 


and far-fetched that it ought not to come into considera- 


tion, for the loss of one wounded animal, shot with a small- 
bore rifle, will incur a greater loss of meat than will the 
killing of a dozen animals with a large bore. The man who 
can plant his bullet within a couple of inches of the desired 
spot, over unknown ranges extending through woods, over 
prairies or mountains, up hill and down, say up to two 
hundred and fifty yards, at either stationary or moving ani- 
mals, may shoot a thirty-two-caliber riflea whole season 
and not lose much game. The question is, Does such a man 
exist? He often claims that he does, but I doubt it. 

For Antelope-shooting, as a specialty, a forty-five or fifty 
caliber rifle, fitted with the Lyman sights, is, in my judg- . 
ment, the very best. It need not perforce be a repeater— 
though that is always a decided advantage. One may get 
into a band, and by being cool, a good marksman, and a 
good judge of distance, he may, with a repeater, bowl over 
several before they get out of range, though I must confess 
that to hit an Antelope, running, at anything over one 
hundred and fifty yards, is either proof positive of superb 
shooting, or, much more generally, proof of a lucky scratch. 

I once saw an Indian scout, young War Eagle, creep 
up to within fifty yards of a band of five Antelope, and kill 


them all in seven shots. As this performance was wit- 


nessed by the whole column of the Seventh Cavalry, I don’t 
hesitate to relate it; while had I, unobserved, performed a 
similar feat a dozen times, I doubt if I could muster up the 
audacity to assert it. As a matter of fact, I have several 
times worked my way,on hands and knees, to within a 
short distance of bands of Antelope, but never have I suc- 
ceeded in killing more than three at one time, though I 
always had a much better rifle than the one War Eagle 
used, to say nothing of vastly superior ammunition. The 
fact is, I could not make my bullets connect with the game 
so often, for an Antelope will scamper over a long stretch 
of country in a short time, and, as they are not generally | 


- 


326 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


found on dead-level ground—at least, one can seldom get 

close to them in such a place —one has to make nice caleu- 

lations, after the first shot, as to where the sprightly fellow 

will be when the ball reaches him. Allowance must be 
made for the time it will take, and then, again, other angles, 

from the uneven lay of the land, ete. 

I onee got into a hot corner, while Antelope-shooting, 
that I am not at all likely to forget. I was out with the 
Seventh Cavalry (Custer’s regiment), on our way up the 
Missouri River. I don’t remember how many troops of 
cavalry there were, but following them came a long wagon- 
train, strung out—including the troops—say three-quarters _ 
ofa mile. Presently, the trail we were following took us a 
short cut across one of the big bends of the Missouri, the 
neck of which was not over one mile wide. The scouts 
and Indians were skirting the river a couple of miles to our 
right, when suddenly we heard several shots fired from that 
direction. We were not long in suspense as to what had 
brought forth their fire, for sweeping over the prairie, com- 
ing straight at us, were several hundred Antelope—perhaps 
seven or eight hundred in all, though there may have been 
a thousand. It so happened that our entire outfit was 
spanning the narrow neck from side to side, so that the 
Antelope found themselves in a cal de sac from which there 
was ho escape. 

When the firing commenced, I was about midway 
between the column and the scouts, so I had full view of this 
magnificent band of fleet-footed animals charging in full 
career two or three hundred yards past me. Seeing some 
stragglers, I dismounted, picketed my horse, and lay in wait 
for them. Taking broadside shots as they vanished across 

‘my line of fire, I killed two or three in I don’t know how 
many shots—probably ten—and was just commencing to— 
enjoy this battue-shooting, when a volley of bullets came 
whizzing by, so uncomfortably close that I instantly dropped 
to the ground: ) 

I soon discovered, to my dismay, that I was directly 

between two fires, and as the scouts from the river-side were _ 


5 —_ = 


A ROUND-UP ON THE MISSOURI. 


STILL-HUNTING THE ANTELOPE. 327 


approaching me, bullet after bullet came singing merrily 
along until I became painfully aware that I was in a very 
undesirable place. Up to this time, however, I had not 
apprehended much danger; but when the soldiers closed in 
from their side, and began pelting away, and I found 
myself hemmed in on all sides, I was decidedly uncom- 
fortable. 

What made it worse, the bullets, before reaching me, 

nearly all struck the ground, so that they came tumbling 
and ricocheting over my head, broadside or butt-end on, 
screeching and screaming in their dangerous flight; buzzing, 
at times, so allfired close that, had I been equipped with an 
intrenching tool, I would soon have buried myself. 
_ During the lulls in the firing, which were of short 
duration, I signaled several times to the soldiers not to kill 
me, but kept on shooting, and succeeded in tumbling over, 
in all, eight Antelope. I could have killed four or five 
times that number had I accepted the easy, close shots that 
presented themselves; but I was shooting for practice as 
well as for meat, and took only running-shots, at from one 
hundred and fifty to two hundred yards. I must have fired 
at least forty shots to make this killing. 

Several terrified Antelope stood panting, all the way 
from fifty yards up, and a couple stood staring at me, in 
wild amazement, at not over thirty yards. So near were 
they that I could distinctly see their flanks undulating, 
from sheer exhaustion, after their mad racing back and 
forth, running the gauntlet of hundreds of bullets. One 
poor fellow, I well remember, stood with staring eyes and 
open mouth, catching his wind, quite close to me, so para- 
lyzed with fear and fatigue that he seemed not to care 
whether he lived or died. I was admiring the graceful 
beauty of his form, moralizing on the wanton destruction 
that had overtaken these lovely animals, and speculating 
on what would be the end of this jaunty fellow himself, 
when suddenly, with a stiff-legged bound, he rose up and 
fell in the agonies of death. At the same instant I heard 
the whiz of a ricochet bullet, and on walking up to the poor 


828 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


fellow, found that he had been shot through the neck by 
one of the many balls that were continually flying in my 
vicinity. The jagged key-hole showed plainly that this 
ball had not come end-on, but had been capsized in its 
flight, retaining, however, sufficient speed and force to cut - 
through the well-rounded throat of my erstwhile timid but 
lovely. companion. 

Strange to say, my horse escaped unscathed, and put in 
his time grazing peacefully, proving again that where igno- 

rance is bliss, ’twere folly to be wise. 

On riding over the ground, we found some forty or fifty 
dead Antelope—enough to provide the entire command 
with meat for many days. Many others were, of course, 
wounded and lost, which fact we sadly regretted, but in 
the excitement of the moment it could not be avoided. 
Some of these, however, were afterward killed by the 
scouts, and brought in with the wagon-train. 

I don’t think I failed to kill over a single one that I hit. 
Many came scampering by me with blood-stains showing 
plainly on their sides. These were the ones I shot at, prin- 
cipally, and when fortunate enough to hit them with my 
hollow-pointed bullets, their doom was instantly sealed. 

In the matter of clothing best adapted for prairie use, 
corduroy or mole-skin trousers are about the most suitable; 
while a good flannel shirt, of some neutral color, is the 
best. For the coat, Iam inclined to think that a dog-skin 
jacket is the best. It is wind and water proof, extremely 
light, durable, is not cumbersome or warm when worn 
open, and is a grand protection against cold when buttoned 
up to the neck. A buck-skin shirt, although good in cer- 
‘tain places, is hot so good as a flannel one far prairie use, 
as in wet weather it is a nuisance. In the brush, however, 
they are grand, as they are noiseless, of good color, and 
are soft and comfortable. 

Nothing that I have ever seen can compare, as foot-gear, 
to the old Thompson & Son’s moccasins, with moderately 
light soles, say single soles, with hobnails on the heels, and 
a few under the ball of the foot; in fact, a couple of spikes 


STILL-HUNTING THE ANTELOPE. 329 


in each shoe are a bonanza, when the grass is slippery and 
dry. Let the soles project half an inch all the way round; 
then when you strike a cactus-bed, you can go ahead with- 


out prodding your feet at every other step. The sole should 


project under the instep as well as across the toes, for 
thorns are just as painful there as anywhere else. Cordu- 


_ roy leggins are comfortable, cool, light, and afford ample 


protection, though in hot weather they are superfluous. 

A soft, felt hat, of a grayish color, is best; one that has 
a moderately wide brim will be found comfortable in. hot 
weather, or in rain. A few ventilators will be beneficial; so 


-willa strap to fasten under the chin in windy weather. 


Beware of leather belts for carrying cartridges. Nothing 
equals one of webbing; next is canvas. Leather belts are 
a fraud; the shells become covered with verdigris and dirt, 
and soon foul the breech of the rifle. Always carry a shell- 
extractor in your belt, and then you will have it where it 


_ does you the most good; one left behind in camp is like 


the Dutchman’s anchor—only an aggravation. By shell- 
extractor, I mean one that will pull out a headless shell; 
nothing but a first-class extractor will budge it. 

Every rifle for prairie use should be provided with a 
pointed wiping-stick, one that fits in the stock like that of 
a Winchester. A hide thong, with a piece of rag, is good 
enough to clean a rifle with, but if the bore gets choked 
with mud or snow, it is convenient to have a rod with which 
to poke it out. 

I always carry a hunting-knife and steel, both fitting in 
one sheath. This saves trouble; and however good a knife 
may be, it soon gets dull when carving large game. The 
blade of the knife should be all one piece with the handle, 
with buck-horn grip. No other kind of knife will stand 


- chopping, and that is sometimes unavoidable. A small, 


light steel is all that is required. 

I prefer the California saddle to any other, but a good 
McClellan is, perhaps, the best for both man and horse. 
Always carry saddle-bags; they are convenient for your 
lunch, some extra ammunition, matches, and a flask of cold 


330 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA, 


tea, which is the best and most refreshing drink I know of. 
It is as well to carry in them an oiled rag, and if it comes on 
to rain, justrub your gun with it, and when you get to camp 
you will see how easily it is cleaned. 

My favorite lariat is made of plaited cord—not twisted, 
for this, when wet, unravels—about the same as good, strong 
window-cord, forty-five feet long. I fasten one end to the 
bit, and hold it up as I would a halter-strap, and allow the 
other end to trail after me. When I see game close, I jump 
off my horse, stand or sit on the rope, and thus secure my 
horse at a moment’s notice. When I have time I use a 
picket-pin. This should be made of steel, and formed like 
the old-fashioned bayonet, not round, as in hard ground it 
is difficult to drive the latter, whereas a three-cornered one 
cuts its way, and is soon home. Have a swivel attachment 
on top; that prevents the lariat from becoming twisted or 
snarled. Keep the pin fastened by a steel snap, on the 
mounting-side; this is the most convenient and secure mode 
of carrying it, and the quickest to get it off. 

A good, powerful field-glass is useful; the single-barreled 
one will answer all purposes, is much more easily carried— 
the best way being in a leather pocket made to fit it—than 
the lorgnette, and not nearly as liable to be broken or ren- 
dered unserviceable. This can be fastened to the belt, and 
should not be over two inches in diameter and six in length 
when closed. 

A compass is a grand, good thing if you understand it, 
and know where you want to go; but unless you do, it 
doesn’t amount to much, for it is always a greater aggrava- 
tion to be lost with a compass than without one. I always 
carry one—one that opens like a double hunting-case watch 
is the best--and sometimes have been lost, compass and 
all. There is nothing more easily leading to this than to 
follow a wounded animal; you forget everything but the 
game you pursue, and when it is getting late, and thoughts 
of camp steal gently o’er you, then you find you have lost 
everything but your appetite. For this emergency I always 
carry salt and matches in my saddle-bags, and if I have 


STILL-HUNTING THE ANTELOPE. 331 


some meat I can at least have some supper and a smoke, 
which goes a long way toward reconciling a man with 
himself and the world generally. 

I have never had much success in flagging Antelope; in 
fact, I don’t think I ever killed one that way. Although I 
have tried this ruse, never could I lure them within reach. 
The scheme doubtless worked all right in early days, 
before the game of the prairies became educated to the 
seductive wiles and sly ways of the white man; in fact, 
old frontiersmen have told me some most amusing stories. 
of how they have lured the little Gazelles to their ruin. 
The time was when the white canvas of a prairie-schooner 
would set a band of Antelope all agog, and they would 
approach so near to it that they could be easily shot 
down by the teamsters and guards. In those days, a white 
or red rag attached toa stick and allowed to flutter 


- in the breeze would bring an Antelope, or a herd of them, 


from any distance where they could see the strange appari- 


tion. 


An old cruiser told me that on one occasion he was 
riding down the Yellowstone, and saw a small band on the 
level river-bottom, about two miles away. He wanted meat, 
and there was no cover from which he could approach the 
herd. He had no flag; but an old-timer is equal to any 
emergency, and, dismounting, he took off his red flannel 
undershirt, tied it to his wiping-stick, stuck the latter in 
the ground, and unfurled his banner to the summer breeze. 
The curious little creatures soon sighted the novel ori- 
flamme, and started for it. The hunter had but to lie low 
and await theircoming. They came within a hundred yards 
before the belching smoke, the echoing report, and the hiss- 
ing lead revealed the cheat; then, those that were not hit, 
hustled for the foot-hills. 

To hunt Antelope successfuHy, one must be well 
mounted; indeed, I have never seen anyone try it on foot, 
as the circuits necessary to be taken to circumvent a band 
are sometimes of such a radius that it would take hours to 
go round on foot. 


332 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


The pith of all teaching on this subject is contained in 
these injunctions: Don’t be in a hurry; keep out of sight 
as much as possible; don’t depend on long shots. They 
are magnificent when successfully made, but this is of such 
rare occurrence that a little more plodding and care are 
much more conducive to filling the larder. It is exceed- 
ingly easy to shoot close to an object at five or six hundred 
yards, but itis quite another thing to hit it. Besides, what 
appears to be a close shot, judging from the dust raised 
by the bullet at these long ranges, may be several feet or 
yards off the mark; so that, unless it be impracticable to 
get within three hundred yards, shots at beyond that dis- 
tance are unwarranted. The better the hunter, the closer 
he gets to his: game. It is only the beginner who tries half- 
mile chances in the hope of doing execution. Any man can, 
by using judgment and taking time, become an average 
stalker, but not one in a thousand can plant his bullet just 
-where he wants it, at an unknown range and distance, if it 
exceeds three hundred yards. 


COURSING THE ANTELOPE WITH GREYHOUNDS. 


By M. E. ALLIson. 


PHE Antelope is the fleetest animal that lives, as well 
as the wariest and most cunning; and one of the 
grandest sports that this continent affords is that of 
3 coursing him with Greyhounds. For a merry party 
of sportsmen to mount their spirited horses, on a clear, 
cold, frosty, winter morning; to bring out the eager hounds; 
to speed away over the prairies for ten or twenty miles; to 
sight a band of Antelope, slip the dogs, and follow them 
through such a grand race as must ensue; to watch the 
startled game in its efforts to escape, and the efforts of the 
hounds to come up with it; to head it off at every turn; to 
follow and encourage the dogs, and at last to come to 
their aid, after they have pulled down the largest and fleet- 
est buck in the bunch—all these afford grander and more 
exhilarating sport than any I have ever indulged in. : 

As may readily be imagined, none but the best-bred 
Greyhounds, and the lightest-footed, toughest, and best- 
staying horse, can cope with the Prong-horn; and happy is 
the man who owns, or may even follow, a pack of these 
noble dogs that can pull him down. 

I have spent many years in breeding and training Grey- 


‘hounds, and flatter myself that I now own one of the finest 


packs in the West. I have had many grand runs with 
them, at the mere recollection of which the blood leaps to 
my brain; and I can almost see the little brown-and-white 
streaks of venison drawing away across the prairie, with 
the long, lithe forms of the great Greyhounds stretched 
out and vaulting through the air so swiftly, so lightly, so 
eagerly, that their feet scarce touch the earth. I can feel 


the hot breath of the wiry little cow-pony on my thighs as 
( 388) 


334 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


he comes down to the work, and can feel his sides swell 


beneath the saddle as he reaches for the game, and asserts, 4 


by his intense action, his determination to be in at the 
death. 

There are many experiences of this nature that I might 
enumerate, and I scarce know which would interest me 
most in the telling, and you in reading; but as representa- 
tive runs, I will narrate a few made in January, 1886. 
Myself and a friend took four of my best hounds—Mike, 
Jim, Terry, and-Jeff—and boarded the west-bound train 
for the home of the Antelope. The first point at which we 
stopped was Garden City, a flourishing town in Finney 
County, Kansas. My friend Jones, who lives there, and who 
is one of the famous Antelope-hunters of the West, met us 
at the train, by previous appointment, and had everything 
in readiness to take us out the next morning, bright and 
early, to where he had located a herd of about twenty-five. 

Morning came, and we packed our luggage and hounds 
in wagons, and started. After driving some fourteen miles 
north, Jones’ eagle eye spied the herd feeding in the flats, 
about a mile away. We drove our wagons into a low piece 
of ground, to keep them out of sight of the game, then 
saddled our horses, got the hounds out, and started to sur- 
round the Antelope as nearly as possible, keeping in the 
lowest ground, and at the same time on the windward side 
of them, for they are quick to catch the scent of any 
approaching danger. After going some distance, we man- 
aged-to get within five or six hundred yards of them, and 
they had not yet discovered us. But here was a rise in the 
ground which we had to cross, and as this would bring us 
in sight of the game, we decided that now was the time to 
make a dash for them and send the hounds off. We 
accordingly put whip and spurs to our horses, and away 
we went. 

Just as we came in plain view of the Antelope and told 
the hounds to go, a jack-rabbit jumped up and started in 
the opposite direction from the Antelope. Of course, 
every hound saw it, and having been taught to run and kill 


COURSING THE ANTELOPE WITH GREYHOUNDS. 335 


jacks, started for it, and never saw the Antelope at all. 
As soon as we discovered our predicament we stopped, but 
not in time, for the Antelope had seen us, and ran off a 
mile or two before they stopped. We were so angry with 
the hounds, rabbit, and our luck, that we never looked back 
to see whether the hounds caught the rabbit or not, but fol- 
lowed on slowly after the Antelope, so as to give them 
another turn when the hounds should come up. After 
awhile the hounds caught up with us, and we again sighted 
the Antelope standing a mile or more away, on a ridge, 
watching for us. We had to maneuver a good deal before 
we could get any closer to them, for the country was nearly 
level, and there was not even a bunch of grass that we could 
use for cover. After considerable delay and anxiety, for 
fear another jack would get up, we made up our minds we 
could get no closer; and as the Antelope had seen us, and 
were getting ready to start, we had to do something at once. 
We spoke to the hounds, and away we went, the Antelope 
at least a half-mile away. They made a swing to the right, 
and the hounds saw them for the first time. Then the 
chase commenced in earnest. But there were big chances 
in favor of the game, and as my hounds had never seen an 
Antelope (they being young), I was not sure they would 
take hold of one, even if they could come up with them. 
The Antelope continued to swing to the right, and here 
one of the hounds—Mike—exhibited the best judgment I 
ever saw in a young dog. Instead of following the chase, 
he shot off at an angle of ninety degrees, and as they saw 
him coming they undertook to head him off; but he was too 
smart for them, and kept them on the outside until he fell 
in behind them, not more than fifty or sixty yards astern. 
By this little piece of strategy he was away ahead of the 
other hounds, and of the hunters who were bringing up the 
rear, yelling like Indians on the war-path. We could see 
he was gaining on the herd, and for the first time I realized 
that he was going to catch one if he had proper staying 
qualities. We did not have to wait long to determine that 
point, for in less than a quarter of a mile he dashed into 


336 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


the herd, cut one out—a large, fine buck—and in less time 
than it takes to write it he threw it heels over head, and the — 
other hounds, which had meantime drawn up, covered it 
before it could get up. 

Everybody yelled like wild men, and we put our horses 
to the best pace in them till we were all.in the struggling 
mass, when Jones drew his knife, and, dismounting, caught 
the buck by the horn and severed its jugular. 

This run scattered the Antelope and made them very 
wild, so we concluded to go to town, and try them the next 
day. 

Bright and early the next morning, we were back where 
we left the game. After driving over a large extent of terri- 
tory, we found the same bunch again, and turned the hounds 
loose, when Mike duplicated his previous day’s record. For 
four days we returned to the flats, and each day Mike sus- 
tained his reputation, and caught his Antelope every time he 
was turned loose on the herd. 

We had now caught five out of this bunch, and felt 
proud of our success; but the survivors had become so wild 
that it was almost impossible to get the dogs within sight 
of them, and we concluded to take the first train to Hart- 
land, about thirty miles west, where Antelope were 
reported plentiful, and in large bands. 

When we arrived at Hartland, the sportsmen there 
laughed at us for bringing hounds to catch Antelope with. 
They did not believe us when we told them we had caught — 
five at Garden City. They had some hounds that they said 
could run some, and they had run them on Antelope fifty 
times, but never succeeded in catching one unless it had 
first been wounded, and they knew it couldn’t be done. 
We offered to put up something on our dogs, but the local 
lads didn’t care to back their Antelope with their wealth; 
so, to satisfy them, we invited them to gather up their 
hounds and go with us the next day. 

We hunted north of town for twenty-five or thirty miles, 
and at last sighted a herd of six, about half a mile away. 
The crowd became much excited, and talked loudly, which 


-COURSING THE ANTELOPE WITH GREYHOUNDS. 337 


finally attracted the attention of the Antelope, and they 
began to move away before we had decided what was best 
to do. We had no time to parley then, and I told all hands 
to turn the hounds loose as quickly as possible. Z 
Away we all went, my dogs in the lead, the local pack 
next, and the cavalry bringing up the rear. Gee whiz! 
how the cayuses did tear up the earth! and how those 
natives did cuss and kick when they saw my dogs throw- 
ing alkali dust in their dogs’ eyes! 

But it was no use; the natives and the native dogs were 


left. The latter could run, sure enough, but they couldn’t 


stay with the thorough-breds. The only thing they could 
see, in a minute or two, was the dust raised by my dogs; 
and once in awhile they would get a glimpse of the Prong- 
horns as they circled. On went the herd, cleaving the sod, 
throwing gravel behind them, and shivering the sage-brush 
in their course. We were wild with delight, and our friends 
were blind with jealousy. 

Finally, the Antelope swung off to the right, and, as 
usual, the stalwart. Mike got in his fine work. He drew 
down on a short cut, and it would have done your heart 
good to have seen him run. Why, a streak of greased 
lightning couldn't have kept in his dust. For awhile it 
looked as though he did not see the game at all; but he 
presently proved himself smarter than anybody, for when 
the Antelope made another turn to the left, he dropped in 
behind them, not four rods distant, and in about ten sec- 
onds caught a fine buck—two hundred yards ahead of the 
other hounds! This satisfied the doubting party that there 
were some hounds that could catch an Antelope. 

We followed the remaining five three or four miles 
before we came in sight of them, but they were so wild that 
we could do nothing with them; so we then gave up the 
chase for that day, and returned to town. 

We remained there and hunted out south from town five 
days, catching eight fine Antelope, making in all thirteen. 
But the Hartland fellows wouldn’t go with us any more; 


they were disconsolate. The idea of a pack of tenderfeet 
22 


338 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


_ Greyhounds coming in there and doing up their native 
stock in such disastrous shape was too much for them, and 
they refused to be comforted. 

I will describe one more day’s chase, and I think it con- 
stituted the finest day’s sport I ever enjoyed. We had 
found a herd of sixteen which had, apparently, never been 
chased, by hounds. We took but two hounds out that day, 
Terry and Mike, the others not being in good form. We 
came upon the herd standing looking at us, about half a 
mile away. The hounds had learned to look for them 
when we stopped, and all we had to do was to point in the 
direction of the game, and say ‘‘Antelope!”’ The dogs 
would invariably catch sight from the wagon, in which we 
always carried them. 

Here Mike did the finest work I ever saw, and I never 
expect to see it equaled. The dogs both jumped from the 
wagon, and started off; but in crossing a low place in the 
ground the Antelope were out of sight, when Terry con- 
cluded he was mistaken, and stopped. Mike, however, 
knew his business, and kept on, getting within fifty yards 
of the Antelope before they saw him. In the next quarter 
of a mile he downed a large doe, while the balance of the 
herd stopped half a mile away, on a ridge, and watched us. 
We loaded the dead Antelope and hounds in the wagon, 
and drove quartering toward the herd, keeping the hounds 
on the lookout in the opposite direction, that they might be 
rested for the next chase. ; 

The Antelope all this time were watching us, and we 
presently began to pullin more toward them, watching every 
move, so.as to turn the hounds in their direction the moment 
they started. Pretty soon they cantered off, and when we 
pointed them out to the hounds, it was only an instant 
until Mike and Terry both saw them, jumped out of the 
wagon together, and ran off side by side. The Antelope 
disappeared over the ridge, and presently the hounds did 
the same, apparently running side by side as they started. 
As we had no saddle-horses that day, we put the whip to the 
horses, and went off at a rattling pace for the ridge, whence 


COURSING THE ANTELOPE WITH GREYHOUNDS. 3839 


we could see the chase. We took no notice of Buffalo-_ 
wallows or dog-towns as we flew over them; and the way 
we pounded the seats of that wagon was a caution to ten- 
derfeet. When we arrived at the top of the ridge over 
which the hounds had disappeared, we saw the grandest 
sight I ever beheld in all my experience on the plains. 
Each one of the hounds had cut out a fine, large buck, and, 
as they dodged back and forth in their frantic efforts to keep 
out of the jaws of the long-nosed hounds, which were now 
-at their very heels, they would pass and repass each other. 
They kept this up, it seemed to us, for five minutes; but, of 
course, in our excitement and efforts to get up to help the 
dogs, the time seemed much longer than it really was. To 
add to our anxiety, Terry had never caught one alone, and 
-. we did not know what he would do with it after he got it. 
| But, no doubt feeling disgusted at himself for getting left 
so badly in the last chase, he concluded to play a lone hand 
here, and’ to redeem himself by catching the largest one in 
the herd unassisted. 

On we went, at better than a two-minute gate, our eyes 
meanwhile on the chase. Finally, Mike caught his, and 
they both fell ina pile. At the same instant, Terry made a 
fearful lunge, nailed his by the hind leg, and hung like a 
vise. He could not get it down, and it was jerking him 
about as a kite yanksits tail. Mike had succeeded in get- 
ting his by the throat. First he was on top, then the buck; 
but he never lost his grip. Our every effort was put to 
test to get to Terry and help him out, as he had discovered 
before this that he had an elephant on his hands which he 
could neither hold norletgo. In its efforts to get away, the 
buck would drag him around in a circle, of perhaps fifty 
yards in diameter, and would pass within a few feet of 
where Mike was wrestling with his; but neither one paid 
any attention to the other. 

On our arrival, I jumped out, the team being on a run, 
just in time to meet Terry and his buck on their circuit. I 
tried to grab the buck by the horns, but missed him, and 
Terry discovered my presence for the first time. He seemed 


840 BIG GAMF OF NORTH AMERICA. 


to think he had done something wrong, and let go to look 
atme. The buck was not many hours in getting on his 
feet and striking out for Mexico. I yelled to Terry tocatch 
him, and the way in which he responded proved that he 
needed only the word. He made a dash, and caught the 
buck again by the fore leg, turning it a complete somer- 
sault; and before it could get up I fell on it with my hunt- 
ing-knife and cut its throat. I then turned to look for 
Mike and his buck. My partner had reached them, but as 
he had nothing with which to cut the buck’s throat, it was 
a rough-and-tumble fight between him and it; first one was 
on top, and then the other. I arrived a moment later, and 
cut the Antelope’s throat, when all hands, men and dogs, 
laid down on the ground, completely exhausted. 


After resting a half-hour, we loaded our game in the ~ ; 


wagon, and started on in pursuit of the herd. We found 
them again a mile farther on, showed them to the hounds, 
and away they went. Terry soon lost sight of them, but 
Mike persevered, and finally ran into the herd, when he cut 
one out, and caught and killed it before we could get to him. 
This made three he had caught alone that day; and out of 
the thirteen caught on the trip, he had eleven to his 
record. : 

This ended the hunt; and I think it safe to say that no 
party of men ever enjoyed a week’s sport more intensely 
than we enjoyed that week with our noble Greyhounds. 


THE DEATH OF VENUS.* 


By Wriu1am Pirrman LETT. 


LAS! poor Venus—noblest hound 

That ever sprang with eager bound 

The instant that the scent was found— 
Thy final hunt is o’er! 

Never again thy bugle-note 

Shall on the breeze of morning float; 

The matchless music of thy throat 
Shall greet our ears no more. 


This finger, holding now the pen, 

Was on the rifle-trigger—when, 

With lightning swiftness, down the glen 
The buck in terror came. 

Fierce in his wake thy strides came fast, 
And loud thy voice swelled on the blast. 
Ah! little thought I ’twas thy last 

Run with the noble game! 


Thou wert of stanch, unrivaled breed; 
Swift as the Antelope in speed, 
Thy voice was ever in the lead, 

Thou queen of all the pack! 
Not one could wind the game like thee, 
Or bound away so lithe and free, 
Or follow with such certainty 

A cold and scentless track! 


True as the best Damascus blade, 

By process of refinement made; 

Perfect, without a single shade 
To mar thy matchless fame! 

When thou wert slipped to scour the wood, 

The watcher of the runway stood 

With confidence that smoke and blood — 
Would soon be in the game. 


* Venus was killed by poison carelessly set out for Foxes. She was a noble hound, true, 
_ gwift, and tireless, and had been in at the death of many a Deer. 
( 341 ) 


+ 


342 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


Oft have I listened to the sound 

Thy tongue rang echoing around, 

While on before, with startled bound, 
The antlered monarch fled; 

O! by St. Hubert! ’twas a yell, 

Once heard, would be remembered well; 

Its loud and glorious trumpet-swell : 7 
Would almost wake the dead! . 


Fierce as a Tiger on the run, ‘ 
Yet gentle when the chase was done; , 
And sure as bolt from rifled gun. 

Alas! that thou art gone! 
Faithful beyond e’en human faith, 
Sad was the accidental scath 
Which hurried thee to timeless death 

Of hounds the peerless one! 


Brave Venus! who will say ’tis wrong 
For thee to sing a funeral song, 
Or censure sorrow, keen and strong, 
For noble beast like thee? 
I would that every earthly friend 4 
May prove as constant to the end; 4 
For even a dog a charm can lend q 
To proud humanity! q 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. 


By JoHn FANNIN. 


77 HIS animal may be briefly described as follows: 
JI Average weight about one hundred pounds; legs 
short and stout; hoofs broad and stubby; ears 
: pointed; horns on both sexes, curved backward, 
from six to twelve inches long, ringed or rough for about 
half their length, then smooth to their sharp tips, jet- 
black, and susceptible of a high polish; fleece white, con- 
sisting of a fine wool next the skin and a long, straight 
hair, pendent on sides of body and legs, erect along line of 
back, longer over shoulders and rump, giving the animal 
the appearance of having a double hump. 

The Rocky Mountain Goat has been reported as far 
south as 36° north latitude, and as far north as 62°; 
but I am not aware that any definite information exists 
respecting the limit of its northern range. My opinion is 
that this animal will be found as far north as there are 
mountains. This Goat is extremely abundant in British 
Columbia, ranging from its southern boundary to the water- 
shed of the Arctic, and from the coast-line to the Rockies, 
though probably most abundant along the rugged peaks of 
the Coast Range. Here, amid Nature’s wildest scenes, 
amid storm-swept cafions and beetling crags, amid steel- 
_ blue glaciers and snowy peaks, where the silence is seldom 

broken save by the rush of mountain torrent, the howling 
of the storm, or the crashing of the treacherous avalanche; 
here, far removed from the trail of the ordinary hunter, 
the Mountain Goat, solitary in its habits and contented . 
with its chaotic and gloomy surroundings, increases and 
multiplies, while sportsmen, and even naturalists, are pre- 


dicting its early extermination. Indeed, there are few 
( 348 ) 


344 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


animals on the North American Continent of which, having 
regard to its distribution and relative abundance, so little 
is known as of the Rocky Mountain Goat. 

This animal is known also by the different names of 
White Goat, Antelope Goat, and, to the Indians of the 


Northwest Coast, as Sheep. The fleece is clipped from 


the dry skins by these Indians, and the wool and long hair 


connected together, and twisted into a coarse yarn by roll- - 


ing between the hand and bare leg of the operator—this 
work being done by the women, The yarn is then woven into 
blankets, on the most primitive sort of loom, consisting of 
two upright posts, connected by two cross-bars, over which 
the warp is stretched, when the weft is passed over and 
under with the hand alone. 

_ The manufacture of these blankets is still practiced by 


' the Indians of the Northwest Coast, but not nearly to such — 


an extent as in former days, being only indulged in by the 
few who still adhere to primitive customs and those far 
removed from the settlements; though a few years ago I 
saw nearly one thousand of these blankets given away at a 
“*potlatch’’ held by an Indian chief at Burrard Inlet. 
Although, strictly speaking, an animal of the mountain- 
peaks, I have known Goats to be shot within a few hundred 
~ yards of the sea-level, and to be captured while in the act 
of swimming rivers or wide stretches of salt water. These 


occurrences, however, are rare, and their wanderings much 


_ below the timber-line are, perhaps, more from necessity 
than choice. Occasionally, the deep snow forces them to 
quit their lofty haunts in search of more favorable brows- 
ing-ground in the timber below; and in the early spring, 
when the snow has melted away from the ‘‘slide-patches”’ 
on the mountain-sides and along the borders of mountain 
streams, the Goats wander down to nibble the young grass 
and weeds which spring up almost immediately with the 
disappearance of the snow. Again, they frequently migrate, 
at any time of year, from one mountain to another, or even 
from one range to another; crossing, of course, in their 
travels, whatever valleys or lowlands intervene. At such 


ee 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. 345 


times a pot-shot may be had without much climbing. 
When taken young, they are easily domesticated, and will 
follow the person who feéds them with the fidelity of a dog. 
They are, however, somewhat mischievous, and will chew 
up anything they happen to come across, from a pocket- 
handkerchief to an old boot; and one that I kept in confine- 
ment was extremely pugnacious in the presence of dogs 
and cows. 

Except during the rutting-season (November) and in 
mid-winter, they are not, to any extent, gregarious. They 
are not an animal of speed, as the short, clumsy limbs will at 
once show; nor are they everina hurry. Time is of little 
importance to them; and even when startled by the approach ~ 
of the hunter, their mode of escape is usually in skulking 
behind some projecting rock, rather than in speedy flight. 


Wonderful stories have been told concerning the cun- 
ning and alertness of this strange animal of the mountain- 
peaks, and the great caution required by the hunter in 
stalking it; and Indians—even at the present time—will 
- warn you of certain rules which must be strictly followed 
if you hope to become a successful Goat-hunter. You must 
not smoke; you must not build a fire within three or four 
miles of where Goats are supposed to be found; you must 
wear moccasins—boots make too much noise; you must not 
fire a random shot, for if you miss your Goat, gone is your 
chance for that day—all of which, so far as my experience 
goes, is the veriest rot. The Mountain Goat is, perhaps, the 
most stupid animal in the mountains, and little or no skill 
is required in hunting it. The great difficulty is in reach- 
ing the almost inaccessible places which they usually 
inhabit. 

The best time for a pleasurable hunt is during the 
months of September and October, or before the ‘‘wet 
season”’ sets in, although the skins are not in prime con- 
dition till later on. Any of the modern makes of American 
large-bore rifles will be found effective in the pursuit of 
this animal. In every case, when hunting, I have used a 


346 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


44 Winchester, and have had no trouble in bringing down 
the game; though rarely have I had to shoot over one hun- 
dred yards. 

There is one precaution which it will be well to observe; 
that is, keep the wind in your face when possible, as the 
Goats, when they scent you, may take a notion to skulk off 
among the rocks and keep out of sight, adding to your 
trouble in finding them. 

A couple of good Indians will be necessary, to pack your 
grub and camp outfit, and to pick out the least difficult way 
in making the trip up the mountain; for, during the months 
above mentioned, Goats are rarely found below the sum- 
mit. When the summit is reached, if the game is not in 
sight, the usual signs are sought for—a fresh track, or tuft 
of wool hanging from bush or projecting rock. In places 
where this game is abundant, trails will be found worn deep. 
in the soft ground. . 

Of course, there is always a certain amount of interest. 
and excitement attached to the hunting down of a wild 
animal; but after his first Goat-hunt, the average sports- 
man will probably conclude that the sport obtained in the 
capture of the Goat hardly pays him for the leg-wearying 
toil experienced in climbing the rocky heights to reach i 
habitat. 3 

During the winter months, say January and February, 
if one take a canoe and a couple of Indians, and paddle 
along the shore of any of the inlets which indent the coast- 
line of British Columbia, he may get a shot at a Goat with- 
out proceeding far from the water’s edge. I have, on one ~ 
occasion, bagged three and got back to my canoe within 
one hour from the time of leaving it. The only drawback 
to a hunt during these months is the disagreeable, wet 
weather which one is almost certain to encounter in winter 
on this Northwest Coast. 

I have found more pleasure in sitting down on the 
sunny side of a rock, and, with the aid of my field-glass, 
watching an hour or two the queer actions of these sleepy- 
looking denizens of the mountains, than I ever got out of a 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. 347 ° 


day’s shooting them. Still, the skin or head of a Mountain 
Goat can not be classed among the lesser trophies of the 
sportsman’s battle-field; and even in British Columbia, the 
reputed home of this animal, the white men who have killed 
one can be easily counted. And then, again, there is a fas- 
cination about mountain-climbing peculiarly its own. The 
_ever-shifting scenes of rugged peaks and gloomy canons, of 

stretches of snow, of miniature lakes, of shady groves of 
cypress and pine, the banks of blooming heather, together 
with the expectation of starting, at every turn of the tortu- 
ous trail, not only Goats, but Black and Cinnamon Bears and 
Deer, all of which animals are found on the summit, ought 
to repay him for the hard work and the many hair-breadth 
escapes he has had in making the ascent. 

To the student of natural history, who has a desire to 
study the habits of this animal, and who may be somewhat 
anxious concerning its extermination in the early future, 
I can say that, so far as British Columbia is concerned, 
they are on the increase instead of being diminished, 
for the following reasons: The Indian, except in very 
remote districts, has almost entirely abandoned the pursuit 
of the Goat, for the reason that he finds more lucrative 
employment in working for the whites, and his blankets 
can now be had with less trouble than in scaling the rocky 
heights to procure them from the fleece of the White Goat. 
Then, again, of the white population which may fill up the 
country, not one in a thousand will ever develop into a Goat- 
hunter. Mountain-climbing is no fool’s-play, and is associ- 
ated with many a discomfort which will not only vanquish 
the tenderfoot long before the summit is reached, but will 
often tax the patience and endurance of the old hunter of 
the plains. The country may fill up with bustling enter- 
prises and noisy industries, yet these will have little or no 
effect on the shaggy inhabitants of the mountain-peaks— 
the conditions of food and cover for them will remain 
unchanged. 

Civilization may advance, but its attending influences 
will play a small part indeed in disturbing the solitude 


°B48 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA. 


which surrounds the home of the Mountain Goat. Among 
these rugged peaks, there is little for the avarice of man to 
covet or his hand to develop; and, taking all these facts 
into consideration, it may be safe to predict that the White 
Goat of British Columbia will exist when all the larger 
animals of the forest shall be exterminated or driven beyond 
its boundaries. : 

One word respecting large Goats. From time to time, 
stories have been told me about monster Goats that have 
been met with in the mountains, and the opinion of not a 
few is that a larger variety of this animal exists. During 
a trip, last winter, of about a hundred miles up the coast of 
British Columbia, out of about sixty skins which I exam- 
ined at an Indian ranch, I picked out four large ones, three 
of which measured five feet in length, while the fourth 
measured seven feet, with a breadth of four feet ten inches. 
This, even allowing for stretching after being taken off, was 
an enormous skin, and must have belonged to a monster 
Goat. That two varieties of this animal exist I do not 
believe; nor do I think that overgrown individuals are more 
frequent with Mountain Goats than with other species of 
wild animals. 


As experience is the best teacher, it may be well to give 
here narratives of two excursions after this animal, at two 
different seasons of the year—one in May, the other in 
September. These will give a fair idea as to the kind of 
sport to be had and the nature of the difficulties to be 
encountered. My experience extends over a period of many 
years, and over the greater portion of this wonderful 
country of forest, stream, and mountain—the coast region 
of British Columbia; and I am only sorry that out of it . 
all I can not recall more excitement, more genuine sport, 
in Mountain Goat hunting than is related in the following. 
Both of these hunts took place on the north arm of Burrard 
Inlet, about fifteen miles from the now flourishing city of 
Vancouver, the western terminus of the Canadian Pacific 
Railway. 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. 349 


On the morning of the 26th of May, I gathered together 
my camping-outfit, which is always of the most modest 
description, consisting of blankets, grub, cooking-utensils, 
and a 44 Winchester, and procuring a couple of Indians 
and a canoe, started for the head of the north arm. A 
fair breeze was blowing; we hoisted sail, and our beauti- 
fully modeled chinook canoe skimmed over the water like 
abird. After a four-hours’ run we reached our destination, 
and pitched our camp on the banks of a beautiful stream at 
the head of the inlet. 

It was early in the season, and we expected to find the 
game without much climbing. The plan proposed by the 
Indian was to simply paddle up and down the stream, 
keeping a sharp lookout on the sides of the mountains 
which hem in the cafion. Sure enough, we had not pro- 
ceeded far from camp when the old Indian pointed up the 
mountain with his paddle, and said, ‘‘Sheep.’”? 

I had with me a good field-glass, which I at once brought 
to bear on the spot pointed out by the Indian. It was an 
open, grassy place on the side of the mountain, down the 
center of which a brook coursed its way, emptying into the 
creek nearly opposite where we were standing. Among the 
disjointed rocks, well up on the side of the cafion-wall, 
were three shaggy, white-coated animals. <A council of war 
was held, and an attack immediately decided upon. The 
ascent of the mountain was comparatively easy, being 
along the course of the stream until we neared the grassy 
opening, when we had to make a long circuit to the left, in 
order to keep under cover of the timber. The traveling 
then became difficult, on account of the great number of 
fallen trees and the immense growth of a _ species of 
umbrella-plant, locally known as ‘‘devil’s walking-stick;’’ 
and woe to the hand which clutches one of these sticks 
for a friendly support! 

We at last reached the level on which the grassy spot 
was situated, toward which, still picking our footsteps, and 
guarding against the slightest snap of a twig, we kept on. 
Fortune seemed to favor us, for right in front, and shutting 


850 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


out the opening from view, was a rocky, moss-covered 
ridge, up the side of which we crept, and cautiously peered 
over the top. There, within one hundred yards, were three 
Goats quietly feeding, apparently unconscious of our 
approach; while farther on, and about four hundred feet 
farther up, perched on the pinnacle of a rock, stood a large 
buck Goat, whose attention was apparently attracted by 
the prospect of fresh feeding-grounds on the mountains 
across the valley. Or he might have been a sentinel watch- 
ing over the safety of his three companions in the little 
opening below him. If so, he was a careless one, for his 
position commanded a clear view of the rock on which we 
lay, and no warning of our approach had been given. 

Choosing our victims, we fired, and the three dropped 
almost in their tracks. Hastily throwing a fresh cartridge 
into my rifle, I turned to look for the sentinel, but he had 
disappeared. In an instant, Charley was off, dropping 
powder and ball into his old muzzle-loader as he ran; and 
while I was engaged in taking measurements of the three 
we had killed, the loud report of his musket sounded far 
up the mountain-side, and presently he appeared on the 
point of rock on which we had first discovered the sentinel, 
and, shouting down the warning ‘‘ Klosh nanitch!’’ (look 
out), before I could utter a word to prevent him, he tumbled 
the carcass of the unfortunate Goat over the cliff. Down it 
came, a limp, shaggy, white mass, bounding from crag to 
crag, till it reached the flat on which we stood, shattered 
and torn beyond use. Its horns were split into shreds, its 
jaws broken, and great patches of hair cut clean from the 
skin—in fact, it was useless asa specimen. | 

I felt annoyed, and only awaited the approach of Charley 
to give him a severe reprimand. But the old hunter, chaf- 
ing under Charley’s success, and indignant at his presump- 
tion in acting without orders, at once opened out upon him 
with a burst of eloquence that, to anyone conversant with 
the guttural oratory of the Indian, must have been scathing 
in the extreme. He concluded by informing Charley that 
we were collecting the skins of animals and birds solely in 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. 351 


the interests of science, and were not killing as do the 
Indians, who hunt merely to satisfy their hungry stomachs. 
But Charley took it all good-naturedly; and when the old 
fellow’s back was turned, he held up two of his fingers, to 
show that he had killed two Goats, while the mighty 
hunter had bagged only one. 

Our descent of the mountains, to where we had left the 
canoe, was not at all difficult, as the hard snow along the 
border of the creek allowed us to drag our specimens with- 

out injury to the skins. 

_ The next day’s sport, though of a somewhat exciting 
character, did not redound much to my fame as a Goat- 
hunter. The ascent of the mountain had been difficult, and . 
in many places dangerous, and more than once the assist- 
ance of my trusty guides had to make up for my lack of 
iron nerve. Creeping along the face of a cliff, with a thou- 
sand feet between you and the first halting-place should 
you happen ‘to miss your footing, is a feat which few ama- 
teurs in mountain travel may accomplish with ease. Muscle 
and endurance are valuable adjuncts to the composition of 
a sportsman, but in hunting the Mountain Goat, muscle 
and endurance will avail him nothing if he be lacking in 
that most necessary of all qualifications, a steady head; and 
the enthusiastic hunter, urged on by the excitement of the 
chase, with the game keeping just beyond the reach of his 
rifle, may find himself at a point where to go on is impos- 
sible, and to return requires the nerve and coolness of a 
Blondin. 

We at length reached a shelf, from which, to gain the 
top, the old hunter had to mount on the shoulders of his 
brother; after which he lowered the butt of his musket 
for Charley to cling to, and, with my assistance, he also 
ascended. The old fellow then formed a loop on one end of 
his belt, and fastening the other to the butt of his musket, 
passed it down for my assistance. I, however, began. to 
look at the thing from a purely scientific point of view. I 
had much to learn concerning the habits of the Mountain 
Goat; in fact, I had only just commenced the task. Now, 


352 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


the belt, which was an old one, might possibly break, and — 


a fall back to the narrow shelf on which I was standing 
might carry me over its edge, and that would be the end of 
me. So I told the Indians to go over the ridge, and if they 
found any Goats, to come back, and I would then make the 
attempt. 

They had scarcely been gone ten minutes when they 
commenced firing, the sound of their muskets echoing and 
reéchoing along the mountain-side. Shot after shot was 
fired, till the whole place appeared to resound with one 
continuous roar of musketry. I became excited, and ran 
along the shelf in hope of finding some more accessible 
place by which to reach the top; but the search was fruit- 
less, so I came back, sat down, and, lighting my pipe to 
soothe my excitement, awaited the return of the Indians. 

In the meantime the firing had ceased, and presently the 
old hunter, with a frown on his swarthy brow, appeared on 
the crest of the ridge, and sliding down on the shelf, seated 
himself beside me. 


He was in a decidedly wrathy mood, refused to have 


anything more to do with the hunt so long as Charley 
remained, and urged me strongly to send him home. It 
appeared that shortly after leaving me they came upon a 
band of seven Goats, and as they had approached them 
from above, there was a good opportunity for rare sport had 
they returned to notify me, as I had instructed and as the 
old hunter wished. But the uncontrollable Charley at once 
opened fire, and the old hunter, fearful lest he should again 
be behind, followed suit. Whether from excitement or the 
inaccuracy of their flint-lock muskets, it is hard to say— 
out of all their shooting but one Goat fell, and that at 
Charley’s first fire. - 

As the old man was in bad humor, I decided to return to 
camp; but on reaching the canoe, an exclamation from Char- 
ley drew our attention to a mountain on the opposite side 


of the creek, where, in a small opening, we discovered ashe- _ 


Goat with a young kid, the latter appearing like a mere 
speck of snow skipping about among the rocks. 


3 ~ ‘ one =e ™ ie 
ee ee ee ee ee eT ee ee ee ee ee 


Salih) 


eee ee 


WANTED—A FRIENDLY HAND. 


* 


Eee Ts Y 


. 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. 353 


Before starting out, 1 had offered a fair reward for the 
capture of a kid, and this was the old man’s opportunity. 
As he was stripping for the chase, he turned to Charley and 
commanded him to remain below and occupy his time in 
catching trout, with which the stream abounded. He then 
disappeared in the dense growth of timber which inter- 
vened between the creek and the foot of the mountains; 
while I took up a favorable position, with my glass, to watch 


Goats—Female and Young. 


the success of the chase. The ascent must have been diffi- 
cult, for two hours passed before the crouching form of the 
Indian appeared in the opening. A short time before this, 
the old Goat must have snuffed the danger, for she started 
up the mountain, and at the moment the Indian came in 
sight had reached a shelf to which the kid was unable to 
follow. All this time a large, white-headed eagle soared in 


majestic circles directly over the scene. After several 
23 


354 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


unsuccessful attempts to reach its dam, the kid started back 
toward the point from which the Indian was advancing; but 
before proceeding very far, sprung down upon a narrow shelf, 
anid stood concealed beneath an overhanging bush. 

The Indian, in the meantime working his way upward, 
stopped within a few feet of the place; but from his actions 
I was satisfied he was ignorant of the kid’s position, and 
fearing the prize would escape, in my excitement I shouted 
at the top of my voice. The sound must have died away 
before reaching him, for he took no notice. Presently, he 
raised his musket and leveled it at the old one, which still 
remained in the same position on the shelf above; but lower- 
ing it again, he commenced a search among the rocks for 
the lost kid. 

His stupidity annoyed me, for, had he kept his position, 
he commanded, so far as I could see, the only way by which 
the kid could escape. Below was a perpendicular cliff of a 
thousand feet, against the side of which no possible foot- 
hold for anything without wings could be seen. But in 
this I was mistaken, for a rock, loosened by the Indian’s 
foot, rolling over the cliff started the little animal from its 
hiding-place, and, with a bound, it sprung outward and 
down. The thought of its fate sent a cold shudder through 

me. A thousand feet sheer down, to be ground to atoms 
on the rocks below! 

But no—down it went, fifteen or twenty feet, and alighted 

ona rocky cone which stood out at a slight angle from the 
main cliff, on the top of which there was scarcely room for 
its feet huddled together. Had it started from that point. 
and soared away over the tops of the trees which studded 
the valley, I would not have been more surprised, and I 
waited breathlessly for the next move. 

For a moment it rested like a speck of snow upon the 
dark-gray granite cone, then, with a downward spring of 
perhaps ten feet, it reached a narrow shelf which had before 
escaped my notice, and which ran along the face of the cliff 


to the wooded mountains on the right. But a sadder fate 


awaited the unfortunate animal than if it had fallen into 


“’. =e 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. 355 


the hands of the Indian. The terrible bird which, in nar- 
rowing circles, had kept above the scene, and whose pierc- 
ing eye had taken in the vantage of the position—the kid 
separated from the protection of its dam—stopped suddenly 

in its course, then swooped downward swift as the light- 
ning’s flash, and seizing the poor kid, just when life and 

liberty seemed so near, bore it from the cliff, fluttered a 
moment in mid-air, then drifted downward along the 
mountain-side, disappearing below the tops of the swaying 
firs. 

The chase was over, and, witha sigh of disappointment, I 
shut up my glass and awaited the return of the Indian. It 
was nearly dark when we reached camp. After partaking 
of some of the delicious trout which Charley had hooked 
from the creek, I lit my pipe, and being tired with my exer- 
tions, rolled myself in my blankets. With a beautiful, 
clear.sky for aroof, and the ‘‘babble, babble’? of the creek 
for a lullaby, I lay dozing, cogitating over the events of the 
day. 

Finally, the forms of the two Indians, dimly outlined 
through the smoke of the camp-fire, faded entirely away; I 
glided into dreamland, and all through the night reénacted 
the scenes of the chase—the kid’s terrible leap, my frantic 
exertions to reach the top of a cliff where Goats were being 
killed by the two Indians, till at last a large, white-headed 
bird lifted me from the rocks, dropped me over a preci- 
pice—then, with a start, I awoke and found it was daylight. © 
My dusky companions were already astir; and after the 
morning’s meal I announced my intention of starting for 

"home, as I had procured what specimens I required for the 
present. 


The next hunt was made in September, with the same two 
Indians and an old companion, Dick Griffin, whose experi- 
ence in Mountain Goat hunting equals, if not surpasses, 
mine. We reached the foot of the mountain which we 

had decided to ascend about noon, and dividing our blank- 
ets and grub into two packs for the Indians to carry, 


356 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


commenced the ascent at half-past twelve. After five and 
a half hours of hard climbing, we pitched our camp within 
the timber, a few hundred yards below the bare summit. 
The Indians advised this, lest by camping in the open 
our camp-fire might warn the game of our presence. 

By daylight the next morning we had eaten our break- 
fast of bacon, crackers, and coffee, and leaving the timber 
behind, passed up a beautiful, grassy lane to the summit. 

We had scarcely reached this when a dense fog encircled 
us in every direction. It was so thick that objects two 
hundred yards distant were totally obscured. This was 
aggravating, the more so as appearances indicated a contin- 
uance of this state of things all day. The air was chilly, 
and, as we had left our coats at the foot of the mountain, we 
were obliged to unpack our blankets and wrap them 
around us. 

At half-past eleven a slight breeze sprung up, a few 
faint shafts of light penetrated the darkness, and then, as 
if by magic, the great bank of fog rolled away; the sun 
burst forth in all his splendor of noon, and daylight was 
with us. We were now enabled to determine our position, 
and found we were on the summit of the divide between 
the north arm of Burrard Inlet and. Seamour Creek—a 
broken and uneven backbone, made up of sharp ridges, 
deep ravines, and level stretches, as smooth as if graded 
by human hands. Everywhere, except on the tops of 
the rocky ridges, was heather—beautiful, sweet-scented 
heather—over which we moved as if treading on carpet. 

We now picked outa place for a permanent camp, and 
leaving our grub and blankets there, started out on our, 
hunt. At every step we came upon fresh signs of the 
game, but for awhile the Indians appeared puzzled as to 
which way to steer; for although the country was open, 
and the eye could reach for miles in any direction, yet the 
broken state of the ground was such that Goats might be 
within a few hundred yards of us and still be out of sight. 

At length the old Indian left us, and started down the 
side of the ridge. He had hardly gone two hundred yards 


/ 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. 357 


when he turned and signaled us to approach. Supposing 
the game to be at least three or four hundred yards away, 
we hastily scrambled down after him; but what was my 
surprise, upon reaching him and peering over the clump of 
cypress behind which he was standing, to see four Goats— 
two females and two kids—within thirty yards. 

There was a clear, open field for a running-shot should 
they attempt to escape, and feeling confident that I was 
good for two of them before they could get out of range, I 
stood out in open view to watch their actions. There was 
none of that startled look about them which we notice in 
Deer and other wild animals at the approach of danger. 
There was no throwing up the head for a moment, and then 
bounding away as if a whirlwind had undertaken to pack 
them out of sight. On the contrary, these silly brutes 
appeared to look at us stupidly from under their eyebrows, 
and then, with their heads scarcely raised a foot from the 
ground, trotted off about a dozen yards to the right, wheeled, 
and retraced their steps. I felt almost ashamed to shoot; 
but hearing the lever of Dick’s Bullard falling back to its 
place, I opened fire, and with four shots we dropped the 
four, within fifty feet of where we first discovered them. 

It was past one o’clock when we got the pelts off, and 
feeling somewhat hungry, we decided to make our noonday 
meal of Mountain Goat, or rather of kid, for my experience 
with this animal is that the adults are not of the most 
_ savory character. 

The meal finished, I gave my rifle to the old Indian (who 
had come without a gun), and taking my shotgun, started 
toward the top of one of. the ridges, on the lookout for 
ptarmigan, while Dick and the two Indians moved along 
the foot, toa gap which cut through the ridge about a quar- 
ter of a mile from the point at which I was ascending. 

Before reaching the top, I turned to take a look at the 
country behind me; and just here I picked up a little expe- 
rience concerning at least one Mountain Goat, which, taking 
into consideration the wonderful stories told by the Indians 
as to their acute senses of hearing and scent, surprised me. 


358 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


On the top of a ridge which ran at right-angles with the one 
I was on—the two being separated by the gap before men- 
tioned—I discovered a large buck Goat poking along on 
the very edge. The side of this ridge appeared to me to be 
almost vertical, and its height about seven or eight hundred 
feet. About half-way between it and the one I was on, the 
smoke of our camp-fire curled up and drifted off in the 
direction of Seamour Creek. 

This Goat appeared to care nothing for camp-fires. He 
was going to come down the side of that ridge if he broke 
his neck in the attempt; and so I sat down to watch him. 
His distance from me was not over five hundred yards, and 
with my glass I could watch every move he made. About 
thirty yards below him, growing out of the side of the cliff, 
was a bunch of broad-leaf plants, which the Indians had 
told me were a favorite food of the Goat. This spot 
appeared to be his objective point; and carefully he worked 
his way down till he reached it, when he commenced 
feeding. 

Just then I was startled by a kak, kak-kak just above me, 
and looking up, discovered a flock of ptarmigan not twenty 
yards away. There were eight of them, and I shot them 
all, firing seven shots; yet the Goat stood there as uncon- | 
cerned as if he were.a thousand miles away. And still he 
must have heard the shooting, because Dick, who was twice 
- as far away, and nearly in the same direction, heard every 
shot. I felt somewhat disappointed, on picking up my 
birds, to find that they were the black-tail instead of Lago- 
pus leucurus. They were also in the last stage of summer 
plumage, and scarcely fit specimens to mount. 

Hanging my game on the limb of a cypress, I reached 
the top of the ridge, and found I commanded a view of the 
opening into which my companions had gone through the 
gap, and I at once began to look for them. Presently, I 
discovered two dark objects beneath the shadow of a spread- 
-ing pine, which, with the aid of my glass, I made out to be 
Dick and the younger Siwash; while farther on, near the 
foot of the opposite ridge, was Seammux, creeping along as 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. 359 


if on the lookout for some animal ahead. The younger 
- Indian got up and started back toward the gap, and just 
then I heard a shot in the direction of Seammux; but before 
I could bring my glass to bear on the spot, a dense fog 
rolled up the opening, and enveloped the whole scene in 
darkness. Then came another shot, and another, until I 
counted nine shots in quick succession, 

I became alarmed, thinking probably that my com- 
panions had stumbled onto a Cinnamon Bear; and I was 
on the point of starting down the ridge and through the 
gap to join them, when the voice of Dick came up through 
the thick fog, ‘‘Catch ’im alive!’ and then a hearty ‘“‘ha! 

-yha! ha!’ from the same individual satisfied me that noth- 
ing was wrong. Sol resumed my seat, and waited for the 
fog to lift. It rolled away almost as suddenly as it came, 
and I then discovered Dick and Seammux bending over 
some animal, which, with the aid of my glass, I made out 
to be a Goat. 

I turned to look for my friend on the cliff. He was still 
in the same place feeding away, but another actor had come 
upon the stage. A dark object was creeping toward the 
white one. It was the young Siwash. Stealthily he picked 
his way along the side of the ridge until he got within what 
appeared to me fifty yards: of his prey. Then he halted; a 
puff of smoke shot out in front of him, the Goat sprung 
back ward— in fact, turned completely over—and fell, a dis- 
tance of fully five hundred feet, to the bottom of the cliff. 

In a short time the young Indian joined me, bringing 
with liim the mutilated skin of the unfortunate Goat. 
Ever since the start, there had been a jealous feeling 
between the two Indians—more noticeable on the part of 
Seammux—because | had engaged the young Indian as 
guide; and all points as to routes and the chances for game 
were referred to him. I did this out of spite, simply to 
punish the old fellow for the way he acted on a former trip. 
He, however, missed no opportunity to sneer at any propo- 
sition the young fellow made; and now it was Tillicum’s 
turn, and, as he seated himself beside me, he asked if I had 


360 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


heard the shooting in the valley below us. I replied that I 
had, and asked what it was all about. With a sort of com- 
ical grin on his greasy face, he answered, ‘‘A lonass sogers”’ 
(perhaps it was soldiers). 

It turned out that Seammux had fired the nine shots at 
one Goat, and the young Indian had stood by and laughed 
at him. In the meantime, Dick had brought down another 
Goat, which made seven—more than we could manageé; so 
I gave the order to shoot no more, to pick up our skins, and 
head for camp. 

It was five o’clock when we reached a spot about three 
hundred feet above our camp, and looking down and seeing 
that everything was just as we left it, we sat down to rest 
before going down the slope. We had scarcely seated our- 
selves, when Seammux, pointing across the valley in the 
direction of Seamour Creek, exclaimed, ‘‘Wika twm-tum 
spaz’’ (1 think that’s a Bear), All eyes were turned in the 
direction indicated, and, sure enough, a dark object was 
discovered, which, with my glass, I made out to be a large 
Black Bear, and with it three good-sized cubs. They were 
in the bottom of a ravine, the mouth of which entered the 
valley directly opposite where we were sitting, and was 
about three-quarters of a mile away. The hills on each 
side were at least fifty feet high; that to the left timbered, 
that on the right, with the exception of one solitary tree, 
bare. But that tree proved to be in a favorable position, for 
the wind coming from the left, the approach had to be made 
up the slope on which it stood. 

After all, there is a good deal of murder in the shooting 
down of a wild animal; at least so it has seemed to me in 
many cases of my own experience—this one I am about to 
relate, in particular. Here is an animal enjoying the free- 
dom of a wilderness almost unknown to man. There is no 
cautiousness—no thought of danger—because there is no 

-animal of her surroundings that she dreads. She strolls 
leisurely along, stopping now and then to pick up some 
choice root or caress a favorite cub. The sun is sinking 
lower and lower behind the hills. The shadows of approach- 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. 361 


ing night are creeping higher and higher up the opposite 
slope. She stretches her great length on the heather- 
covered ground, and placing her head between her paws, 
quietly watches the playful frolics of her three cubs. Hark! 
What is that? Only a whistle; but it comes from the lips 
of a human being, and, as if seized with the dread of some 
terrible danger, she raises her head, turns it in the direc- 
tion of the sound, when the object for which that whistle 
was given is attained, and the next instant a bullet from a 
Winchester rifle crashes through her skull. She springs to 
her feet, and uttering the most piteous wail I ever heard 
from the lips of human or beast, drops dead among her 
cubs, which a moment after share the fate of their mother. 


A fa 
HAE SI 
ni ce 


& 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 


By G. O. SHreLDs (‘‘ Cogurna’). 


"7HE Rocky Mountain Sheep is one of the wildest, 
“4 wariest, and most difficult to hunt, successfully, of 
all North American game quadrupeds. His habi- 
: : tat being the highest, raggedest, and most forbid- 

ding mountain ranges, it is only by the most arduous 
toil, the most wearisome and, in many cases, dangerous 
climbing, that the hunter can reach the feeding-grounds of 
the wild Sheep at all; and once there, his skill will be taxed 
to its utmost to get within rifle-range of the game. He will 
be fortunate indeed if, after he has crawled a quarter of a 
mile, and has almost reached the point from which he hoped 
to make a-successful shot, one of the capricious currents of 
wind that are so often fatal to the hopes of the mountain 
hunter does not sweep up a cafion or around a crag, in a direc- 
tion immediately opposite to that from which it has been 
blowing, and carry his scent to the delicate nostrils of Ovis, 
for the sense of smell in this animal is equally as keen as 
that of sight. He will also be fortunate if, after hours of 
careful and tedious, time-killing and back-breaking stalk- 
ing, he does not displace a loose rock and start it rolling 
down the mountain, or if he does not break a dry juniper- 
twig, the sound of either of which would send the game 
leaping and dancing away among the crags. 

The Big Horn is gregarious in its tastes, and a few years 
ago bands of several hundred were frequently seen together. 
Now it is rare indeed that so many as fifty are found in one 
place. The sportsman is extremely fortunate who can find 
a band of ten or fifteen after riding and climbing a week to 
reach their range. 


( 363 ) 


364 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


When bands of Sheep are feeding, they usually post a 
sentinel on some prominent point, to watch for possible 
danger; and when about to lie down, they seek the highest 
ground in the neighborhood, in order that each member 
of the flock may act as his own guardian. ; 

The muscular development of this animal is simply mar- 
velous; and while possibly not as graceful and elastic in his 
movements as the Deer or the Antelope, yet he will leap 
from crag to crag, will bound up over ragged ledges, over 
ice-glazed slopes, or down perpendicular precipices, alighting 
on broken and disordered masses of rock, with a courage 
and a sure-footedness that must challenge the admiration 
of everyone who has an opportunity to study him in his 
mountain home. 

It may be well to state once more, however, that all the 
old stories of hunters and mountaineers, to the effect that 
the Sheep jump over precipices and alight on their heads, 
are purely mythical. <A full-grown ram weighs three hun- 
dred pounds or more; and while his horns would probably 
stand the shock of such a fall, his bones would not. His 
neck, and probably every. other bone in his body, would, if 
he jumped from a precipice and fell fifty or a hundred feet, 
be crushed to splinters. Besides, if the rams could stand 
it, and come out of it safely, what would become of the ewes 
and lambs, which have not the big horns, and which follow 
wherever the rams lead? A Sheep never jumps down a 
sheer precipice of more than ten or fifteen feet; and when- 
ever or wherever he does jump, he always lands on his feet. 

General Gordon, one of the Special Indian Commission- 
ers, who was traveling in Northern Washington when I was 
there, bought from a hunter the head of a ram that had the 
tips of the horns broken. The General showed them to 
several persons of my acquaintance, and said he had never 
before believed the stories of the Sheep jumping down 
mountains and alighting on their heads, but that now he 
was compelled to believe them, for here was an undeniable 
proof of the truth of them. This noble animal had, he 
said, undoubtedly broken his horns in this way. But I can 


_ THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 365 


assure the General that the horns on his specimen had been 
broken while their former owner was engaged in fighting; 
and hundreds of others, which may be seen in museums and 
in private collections throughout the country, have been ~ 
broken in the same way. 

Generally speaking, the range of the Rocky Mountain 
Sheep may be said to extend from Old. Mexico to Alaska, 
and from the eastern base of the Rocky Mountains to the 
Pacific Coast, though there are some ranges of mountains 
within these limits in which it has never been found. On 
the other hand, it ranges down the Missouri and Yellow- 
stone Rivers to a line some four hundred miles east of the 
Rocky Mountains. Here it finds refuge in the Bad Lands 
and rocky cliffs that border these streams. 

This animal has few characteristics in common with the 
domestic Sheep. The horns of the wild ram resemble some- 
what those of the domestic species, although much more 
_ Inassive; but the wild ewe has horns six to eight inches 
long, that curve backward, while the domestic ewe has none. 
The wild Sheep has a heavy coat of stiff, coarse hair, much 
like that of the Elk. Some writers have stated that under- 
neath this there is a heavy coat of wool. This is an exag- 
geration. There is but a scant allotment of the wool—not 
enough to hide the skin when the hair is plucked out. 

In color, also, Ovis Montana closely resembles the Elk, 
being of a light-brown, or almost red, in summer, and turn- 
ing toa gray in winter. It has the same ashy-white patch 
on the rump as is seen on the Elk, while the muzzle is 
lighter colored, and the belly and flanks are white. The 
tail is only about two inches long, and seems to be entirely 
useless. 

The rams grow to a height of three feet and six inches 
at the shoulder, and attain a weight of three hundred and 
fifty pounds, while the ewes average about one-third smaller. 

The horns of the male grow to a great size. I have in 
my collection the head of a ram, killed in the Little Mis- 
souri Bad Lands, the horns of which measure sixteen inches 
in circumference at the base, and thirty-six and one-fourth. 


366 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


inches in length. They are badly battered at the tips, 
from fighting—probably two or three inches of each horn 
having been broken off. The peculiar shape of the horns 
of the ewe has frequently caused her to be mistaken for an 
Ibex, or a species of ‘t‘ Red Goat,’’ by inexperienced hunters. 

. The appearance of the Big Horn in the Missouri and Yel-— 
lowstone Valleys seems to have been due to some accident 
or caprice, though the bands that are there seem contented, 


Mother and Son. 


and make no effort to migrate to the mountains. The 
favorite haunt of the species in general is, as already stated, 
the higher ranges of mountains, in the neighborhood of per- 
petual snow and ice. They are occasionally found at an 
altitude of twelve thousand feet in summer, though in the 
early spring they frequently descend into the valleys, in 
search of the first green vegetation, or of alkali. 

The ability of the wild Sheep to scale forbidding beds of 
rock and ice is owing to their being shod with a pad of a 
soft, black substance closely resembling crude rubber, 


> 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 367 


which clings with great tenacity to any object with which 
it comes in contact. 

The young of this species (usually one, but sometimes 
two in number) are dropped in May or the early part of 
June; and when a few days old, will follow their mothers, 
if alarmed, over rocky walls where it would seem that a 
Wildcat could scarcely find a foot-hold. © 

The flesh of the Rocky Mountain Sheep is adjudged by 
_ most hunters the most delicious venison in the mountains, 
and the roasted ribs of a fat young ram, with a couple of 
hard-tacks, have often, after a hard day’s climb, furnished 
me a repast that I have relished more, beside my camp-fire, 
than any spread I ever sat down to within the confines of 
- civilization. 

Notwithstanding all the natural instincts of the Big 
Horn, he may be overcome by the experienced and skillful 
hunter. The natural alertness, the wariness, the Keen eye, 
the quick ear, and the acute scent of the one, are no match 
for the trained eye, the cat-like tread of moccasined foot, 
the superior reasoning faculties, and the breech-loading 
rifle of the other; for, after all, the white man is the smart- 
est animal on the earth. And so the doom of the Mountain 
Sheep is written in his own blood, as is that of all the large 
game animals on this continent. How long it will be before 
the bones of the last specimen of this noble race are left to 
whiten on his native rocks, it is impossible to say; but it is 
only a question of time. 

Within the memory of men now living, there were thou- 
sands of wild Sheep on various mountain ranges in Colo- 
rado where not a track of one has been seen for five years 
past; and some of the best-informed hunters and guides 
assert that there are not now a hundred Big Horns left in 
that whole State. In all the far western States and Terri- 
tories, the Sheep have been rapidly reduced in numbers, year 
by year, until now they can only be found in small bands, 
and in the most remote fastnesses on the continent. * 

Perhaps the best hunting of this class is now to be found 
in British Columbia; and as few readers of this volume will 


368 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


ever have the opportunities that I have been fortunate 
enough to enjoy for hunting and studying this game, I 
will narrate some of the incidents of a trip I-made into this 
northern range in the autumn of 1887. 

We had traveled on horseback—carrying our camp 
supplies on pack-animals—a distance of one hundred and 
eighty-five miles from Spokane Falls, and on arriving at — 
Loomis’ ranch, the last one we were to pass before starting 
up the mountain, we deposited there all our provisions 
except enough to last us five days, and on the following 
morning started on the trail that leads through the foot-hills 
to and up Mount Chopaca. 

We reached timber-line, on the first peak, late in ithe 
afternoon, and hunted there that evening, but saw no signs 
of Sheep, though we found plenty of Deer, and killed one 
fawn for present use. 

Before dark I prospected the range, and seeing another 
peak about three miles northwest that looked better, we 
started for it at daylight next morning, with our rifles and 
saddle-horses, leaving everything else behind. We reached 
the base of it, and rode our horses up as far as they could 
go. Then we picketed them on a grassy bench, and pro- 
ceeded to climb to the top on foot. 

We separated soon after leaving our horses. When I 
reached the summit, I took out my field-glass, adjusted it, 
and commenced to sweep the surrounding country for 
game. I had just got fairly settled down to looking, when 
I saw a large band of animals quietly feeding along the 
side of a spur of the mountain nearly a mile away, and 
several hundred feet below me. At first, it was difficult to 
determine whether they were Mountain Sheep or Deer, but 
a minute’s scrutiny revealed the fact that they were Ovis 
Montana. Thad now no interest in whatever else might be 
seen from the peak, and returning the field-glass to its case, 
I made a hurried descent from the summit, to get to the 
diverging ridge on which the Sheep were. 

And here let me digress to say that a good field-glass is 
an almost indispensable item in a hunting-outfit for the 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 369 


mountains. It often saves one long walks and weary climbs. 
By its aid you may often turn a black log into a Bear, a few 
gray rocks into a bunch of Sheep or Deer, or vice versa. 
By its aid you may often fird game on what appears to be 
open, unoccupied ground, and where you would not think 
of going to look for game if you did not first see it there. — 
Then you havea great advantage in stalking the game if 
you know exactly where it is while so far away. You 
would often frighten it by a noisy misstep, or by approaching 
it from the windward, if you did not know its exact where- 
abouts. I should never have seen this band of Sheep at all 
had I not had the glass, for they were on ground that I 
should not have considered favorable, and should never 
have gone there to look for them. Furthermore, the glass 
is useful in picking out routes through an unknown coun- 
try. You may often see, by the aid of the glass, and from 
a promontory, a trail, miles away, winding up or down 
the side of a mountain, or along a stream, or over a prairie, 
that you would never have found with the naked eye. 
You may, with it, find broad fields of impassable slide- 
rock, or great swamps, in time to avoid them, where to 
the naked eye all looked fair. A good field-glass costs 
but a few dollars, weighs only a pound or two, and, to 
a hunter in the mountains, is often worth its weight in 
gold. 

When I got down onto the lower ridge, where I was out 
of sight of the Sheep, my next precaution was to make a 
wide detour, to get to the leeward of them. Then, being 
within a few hundred yards of them, I started with cautious, 
cat-like tread to move toward them. The hill was covered 
with ‘‘chip rocks’’—that is, small flakes of shale, over 
which it was almost impossible to walk without making 
some noise; but my feet being shod with moccasins, I was 
able, by exercising the utmost care, tomove quietly. How- 
ever, when I reached the top of the ridge opposite where I 
thought the Sheep should be, and peered cautiously over, 
there stood the old ram, evidently the sultan who ruled 


this large harem, looking at me. 
24 


870 BIG GAME OF NCRTH AMERICA. 


The heel-plate of the rifle was already pressing my 
shoulder, and my first view of him-was over the gleaming 
barrel. Instantly, the little gold front sight gleamed like 
a spark of fire on his great, broad, muscular chest, and ere 
he had determined what the strange apparition was that — 
had risen so stealthily on the horizon, a cloud of smoke hid 
him momentarily from me, a deafening detonation went 
rolling and echoing across the cajion, and the sultan fell 
struggling in his tracks. He was nearer to me than I had 
thought, and having taken a little coarser aim than neces- 
sary, the bullet had gone three or four inches higher than 
I intended, and had broken his neck. 

Nearly all writers who have written of this animal have 
told us of its wonderful vitality, and that if shot, almost 
anywhere, even through the heart, it will invariably run 
from two hundred yards to a mile before falling; and not 
knowing that my bullet had gone above the point aimed at, 
I was surprised to see this ram drop in his tracks. 

We have furthermore been told, by these same writers, 
that the wild Sheep of the mountains always run up-hill 
when alarmed. This is also an error. All my experience 
with them has been directly in contradiction of this state- 
ment; and this herd (like all the others I have ever fright- 
ened) lit out down the hill at the best speed they could 
make. JI fired two shots at them as they went, but none of 
them stopped. They went to the bottom of a deep canon, 
crossed it, and climbed the other side, disappearing around 
the point of a mountain halfa mile away. I counted them 
as they went up, and there were twenty-three of them, 
nearly all ewes and lambs. 

Then I turned my attention to the ram. He had stood on 
the brink of the hill, and in his dying struggles was gradu- 
ally working over it. If he should once get started down 
it, he would go to the bottom of the canon, which was at 
least six hundred feet deep, and I had to catch him by a 
hind foot and hold him till he was dead. 

Immediately after I finished my fusillade, I heard my 
companion fire four shots in rapid succession, away across 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. Brel 


the caion. When he came to me, he said he had located 
four Sheep, and was sneaking on them when I fired. My 
shots alarmed them, and they ran. He shot at them at 
long range, and one ram fell, but immediately got up and 
tried to run. He kept falling and staggering till he reached 
the brink of a great precipice, when he fell over and 
went to the bottom of it, no doubt crushed to a shapeless 


The Sultan of Chopaca. 


mass. Miller thinks the Sheep was nearly dead when he 
started down, and is sure he was nothing more than a mass 
of sausage when he reached the foot. He said he was not 
hunting that kind of meat, and would not have gone down 
that heathenish hill-side after him if there had been three 
barrels of him. 

We took the head, skin, and saddle of the big ram I 
had killed (and whose portrait is shown herewith), carried 


372 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


them down to our horses, lashed them on our saddles, and 
returned to camp. 

The next morning I went back over the same ground, to 
see if there were any more Sheep in sight, and as I neared 
the top of the same ridge on which I had killed the big 
ram, I heard strange noises issuing from beyond it; and 
advancing cautiously to the top, saw a Wildcat and a 
Coyote engaged in a fight over a shoulder-blade of this 
same Sheep, which was already pretty well polished. 

I was careful not to disturb them, and taking a reserved 
seat in the front row, watched the circus till the end of 
the last act. The varmints seemed well matched in size, 
strength, and courage, but their tactics varied widely. 
The Cat, of course, depended mainly on its claws as weap- 
ons, while the Coyote’s best hold was with his teeth. The 
Cat was quicker and more elastic in his movements, while 
the little Wolf was the more deliberate, and the better 
stayer. The Cat seemed the more sanguine of the two, 
the more anxious for the possession of the property in dis- 
pute, and in greater haste than his antagonist to push the 
battle to a speedy conclusion. He seemed determined to 
have the bone, even though he should have to wade through 
blood and hair a foot deep to get it; and the Canis latrans 
seemed determined to stay by it as long as he had a piece 
of skin on him as big as a postage-stamp. 

When I first sighted the contestants, they were in the 
midst of a sanguinary round, but finished it in a few 
seconds, and separating, as if by mutual consent, both 
backed off a few paces and sat down. The Wolf growled, 
snarled, showed his ivories, and licked his wounds in turn; 
while the Cat hissed, spit, and caterwauled, much as a 
domestic cat does when engaged in a family row. 

Finally, the Coyote started for the Cat, and no sooner 
had he taken a step than the Cat shot into the air, clearing 
at least ten feet in a single leap, and lit on top of the Coy- 
ote. Then there was snapping, clawing, snarling, yawling, 
howling, and shrieking. Teeth and toe-nails contended 
valorously for the victory; the air was filled with hair, and 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 373 


rent with cries of rage and shrieks of pain. To paraphrase 
John Hay, or whoever it was that wrote it: 
He tried for to chaw the neck of the Cat, 
But the Cat he wouldn’t be chawed; 
So he lit on the back of that there Wolf, 
And bit, and clawed, and clawed. 
Oh, the hair it flew, and the Wolf he howled, 
As the claws went into his hide, 
And chunks of flesh were peeled from his back, 
And he flumixed, and kicked, and kiyied. 

Blood flowed until the snow looked as if a dozen chick- 
ens had been beheaded at once and thrown out there to 
flutter their lives away. The pent-up fury of Goths and 
Vandals seemed concentrated in these fiery little creatures. 
They writhed, struggled, clawed, and gnawed each other 
in a way that was truly frightful. They rolled over and - 
over, and seemed like a single monster in the throes of 
death. Sometimes they were almost buried in the cloud of 
snow thrown up in their struggles. Hostile arrows from 
the bows of enraged savages never flew with greater swift- 
ness than did these creatures move in their efforts to devour 
each other; nor did the arrows ever smite their victims with 
more terrible emphasis than the claws and fangs of these 
animals sought each other’s vitals. 

When both seemed exhausted, they again drew off. 
Again they sat, nursing their wrath and recovering their 
wind, for perhaps two or three minutes. Still, both seemed 
anxious for the finish, and without awaiting the call of 
‘‘time,’? both sailed in. Another cloud of hair and snow 
filled the air and enveloped the contestants. More screams 
and yells made the day hideous, and this round was fought 
through much as the others had been. Round after round 
was savagely contested, and though both of the little gladi- 
ators were becoming visibly weakened by suffering and loss 
of blood, neither seemed disposed to yield. After the fifth 
round that I had seen, the rest was much longer than at 
the end of either of the others. Neither combatant seemed 
disposed to renew the trouble, though neither seemed the 
least inclined to yield the belt, or the bone. I decided to 


374 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


assume the role of referee, and mentally declaring the fight 
a draw, took a shot at the Cat. .This broke up the affair 
suddenly. 

The Cat stood with his head to my right when I fired. 
I held for his shoulder, but realized that, as I pulled the 
trigger, I pulled the muzzle off to theright. ‘‘ There,’’ I said 
to myself, ‘‘I have missed him.’’- But when the smoke 
cleared away, I was surprised to see him floundering where 
he had stood. I then turned my attention to the Coyote, 
who, notwithstanding the hard work he had lately done 
and the large quantity of gore he had wasted, was getting 
out of the country at arate that would have left the fastest 
horse on the turf out of sight in five minutes. I shot at 
him three times, but he did not stop—at least not while I 
. could see him. He was headed straight for Mexico, and, 
for aught I know, is there now. 

Then I went to pick up my Cat; but he was gone, too. I 
went to where he had stood when I shot, and found some 
small pieces of meat and bones, some blood and some hair, 
but the rest of him was gone. There was a deep gulch close 
by, and I tracked him where he had rolled and tumbled 
to the brink of this, apparently making his dying kicks as 
he went. He had tumbled down into it, and I followed. 
I saw several places where he had struck rocks or bushes, 
leaving blood and hair on them, and fully expected to find 
him dead at the foot of the hill, if not lodged somewhere 
this side. I slid and scrambled down about three hundred 
feet, when I found where the pesky varmint had gotten his 
feet again and gone off on a series of long jumps that 
would have done honor to a healthy jack-rabbit. I fol- 
lowed him a considerable distance, and though he was 
leaving some blood on his trail, he seemed to be getting 
nicely rested, and to have started for Hudson’s Bay. So, 
with a sad heart and a pair of tired legs, I climbed back up 
the almost perpendicular wall of the gulch to the scene of 
the battle. It seemed that I had not pulled off quite so far 
as. I supposed, and had shot away either his nose or his 
lower jaw—most likely the latter. 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 375 


The band of Sheep we had frightened the day before 
seemed to have left this region, and not finding any others, 
we returned to the ranch, and outfitting anew for ten days, | 
started for a Sheep country of which we had heard a great 
deal, and which lay forty miles to the northwest. This 
was near the head of Ashanola Creek, a stream which rises 
among the snow-clad, storm-swept crags of the Cascade 
Mountains, in Northern Washington, ‘flows north, and emp- 
ties into the Similkimeen River in British Columbia. The 
country drained by this stream is undoubtedly one of the 
greatest Mountain Sheep ranges remaining on this conti- 
nent. Nearly all the mountains and foot-hills in this por- 
tion of the range have large, open plateaus and parks on 
their tops or sides, which are covered with a luxuriant 
growth of bunch-grass, affording good food for the wild 
Sheep; and-.it seems that they have congregated here from 
all other portions of the Cascade Range. They have made 
. this their home, their trysting-place, their breeding-ground, 
and their pasture. In winter or summer, bands of them, 
numbering anywhere from a dozen to fifty, may be seen 
feeding or reposing in these parks, or on the rocky hill- 
sides near them. 7 

On the 3d of November, we started for this great 
Sheep-range. The first day out, we rode to an Indian 
ranch on Ashanola Creek, four miles above its mouth, and 
went into camp at three o'clock. We had just taken the 
saddles and packs off the horses, when a wild-looking 
squaw rode up to us and demanded two dollars for the 
privilege of camping on her land. We objected to paying 
such a price, but she was obdurate. We dfscussed the 
propriety of saddling up and moving on, but the horses 
were tired, and we didn’t know how far we might have 
to go to find another place where they could graze; so 
we finally compromised with the ‘‘ Kloochman”’ at a dollar 
for the privilege of sleeping on her land over night. 

We pulled out early in the morning, and after riding an 
hour, arrived at the foot of a high, steep mountain, up 
which a trail went zigzagging and winding over rocks and 


PIG 3) BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


crags as far as we could see. From the directions given us, 
we supposed this to be the trail we were to follow. We 
climbed the mountain to its summit, a hard piece of work, 
which took till afternoon. When we got there, we found an 
open, grassy country, such as we were looking for; but 
bands of horses and cattle were grazing all over it, and not 
a Sheep or Sheep-track was to be found. 

My guide, a half-breed Indian, had, in the face of my 
earnest protest, allowed his dog to follow us. He wasa 
young mongrel, and I felt sure he would be a nuisance; but 
Charley insisted that. he was a good dog, and would be 
useful to us in various ways. He had already had several 
runs after Deer along the trail, and now that we had got 
into a country where they were abundant, his squeaky yelp 
was heard in the land all the time. He ran by sight, and 
as soon as one Deer had gone away and left him, he would 
jump another. Before we had had time to ascertain 
whether there were any Sheep on this mountain or not, I 
was mad enough at the pup to shoot him all to pieces. I 
knew that if there was any game in the country, he would 
drive it all out long before we could get sight of it. I told 
Charley if he didn’t round up the infernal cur and picket 
him, I would brand him with an Express bullet. He said 
he would, just as soon as he could catch him, but that was 
a very indefinite quantity. | 

We went into camp, and the dog had Deer running all 
around us before we got the tent pitched. Some of them 
almost ran over us. A band of eight or ten came bounding 
down the side of the mountain, and stopped within thirty 
yards of us. Charley picked up his rifle and killed a fat 
young buck, which we needed in our business. Then some 
Indians who were camped near us, hunting Deer and dry- 
ine meat, came to us and asked if we wanted that dog any 
more. Charley said we did, and they said then we had 
better tie him up; they wanted what few Deer there were 
around there, and he was driving them all away. We 
asked them about the Sheep, and they said we had climbed 
the mountain too soon; that we must go back to the creek, 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. bie a 


follow it up about two miles, and then climb another 
mountain like the one we were on. 

It rained that night, and early the next morning we 
started to retrace our steps. We slid down the mountain, 
followed the creek up till we found a trail leading up 
another rocky wall, and followed it. This proved to bea 
much higher mountain than the other, and my back was 
almost broken when we reached the top of it. Wesaw 
plenty of fresh Sheep-tracks as we went up, however, and 
the knowledge that at last we had found the home of the 
Big Horns sweetened the toil. 

Near the top of the mountain, we met a gentleman from 
Victoria, British Columbia. He told us that if we had 
come to hunt Sheep we need go no farther, for we were 
then ina land where they were abundant. He had been 
there, he said, ten days, and had killed nine—all old rams. 
He could have killed many more in the time, but had shot 
only such as he wanted—such as had fine, large horns. 
The proof of what he said lay all around his camp. Sturdy- 
looking old heads, with massive, rolling horns, were on 
every log; plump, fat hams hung from the trees, and 
skins were spread upon the ground. Mr. Pike said he had 
finished his hunt, and should start for home the next day, 
when we would have the field all to ourselves. 

We made camp on the bank of a little spring brook, and 
tied the dog to the largest tree in the grove with the largest 
rope we had. Then we started out, in opposite directions, 
to prospect for game. I had gone but a short distance, 
when the dog showed up, smiling, and ready for arun. | 
He had chewed the rope in two. With a club, I hit hima 
blow across the hinder parts that sent him toward the 
camp howling like a Coyote. From the top of a ridge, I 
saw a band of seven Sheep quietly feeding on an open 
plateau half a mile away. 

I made lively time over the intervening ground, and 
crawling cautiously to the top of a ridge near them, peered 
over. They had lain down, and were quietly chewing their 
cuds and basking in the afternoon sun. I was not yet near 


378 . BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


enough to make sure of my aim; and as the light wind was 
favorable, I got behind a large fir-tree that stood farther 
out on the prairie toward them, and crawled cautiously to 
it. Then I moved carefully to one side and took a look at 

them. Beautiful creatures! Their glossy, gray coats glis- 
-tened in the autumn sun, and their large, lustrous, dark 
eyes were now plainly visible. There were three ewes, three 
lambs, andaram. The father of the herd had but'a small 
pair of horns, however, and to this fact he owes his life, if 
he be still alive and well, as I hope he is. 

I selected the largest ewe, as I wanted the heads of a 
family, for my collection, and training the Winchester so 
that the little gold front sight gleamed on her side, just 
back of the shoulder, pressed the trigger. The band sprung 
to their feet, huddled close together for a moment, looking 
in every direction for the source of the deafening roar. IL 
remained hidden, and being unable to sight or scent me, all 
but the ewe I had aimed at went bounding away down an 
almost perpendicular mountain-side, over rocks and among 
trees, and in a moment were out of sight. The one that had 
been my target started with the others, but after going per- 
haps twenty or thirty feet, she stopped, with her head down, 
paused a moment, turned two or three times around, sank 
down, and died without a struggle. The Express bullet 
had done its work effectually. Tworibs were broken where 
it went in, three where it came out, and her lungs were torn 
to shreds. . 

Returning to camp, I found the half-breed there, with 
the head of a large ram that he had killed. He reported 
having seen two large herds. The evening was devoted to 
skinning and preparing the heads of the two specimens, to 
cooking, eating, cleaning rifles, ete. We gathered dry logs, 
and branches of fir, pine, and cedar, and made a roaring 
fire that might have been seen from mountains ten miles 
away. We were ina hunter's paradise. Game was abun- 
dant all about us, awaiting the test of our skill in hunting 
and shooting, on the morrow; our stomachs were full of 
good, nutritious food; a cold, clear mountain brook war- 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 379 


bled its sweet music in our willing ears; our tent was 
pitched, and in it soft beds of fir-boughs awaited us; our 
fire burned brightly, and we had been successful in our 
afternoon’s hunt. What remained to complete our happi- 
ness ¢ 

Speaking for the half-breed, nothing. He lay on his 
stomach and gazed complacently into the fire, saying noth- 
ing save when spoken to, and then usually answering in 
monosyllables and grunts. He was good-natured and will- 
ing, but inherited the moroseness of his maternal ancestors, 
and on this night, as was his custom, went to bed soon after 
supper. 

But, speaking for myself, I lacked a companion, or half 
a dozen of them, for that matter. If I had had a good, 
genial friend there—one who could keep his end of the 
whippletree up, or even one who would. have listened 
gracefully—I could have poured forth a string of yarns, 
reminiscences, and the like, that would have reached far 
into the night. I was in a mood to talk, but had no one 
worth a continental to talk to; or, I could have listened 
most eloquently had there been someone to talk to me. I 
wanted somebody to commune with; but this communing 
is not Charley’s forte. I could even have been happy 
alone. I have spent many days and nights im the mount- 
ains entirely alone, and never felt lonely, for then I could 
commune with Nature and my own thoughts; but in poor 
company I am always lonely. 

Besides, | am of a generous nature, and-if I have a good 
thing, and there is more of it than I can use, I like to pass 
it around. Here I hada large stock of camp comfort, of 
enthusiasm, of vitality, of wood, food, water, and game, and 
no one to unload them on. I simply had to bottle up my 
sociability and save it for some future occasion. I hope to 
corral a dozen or so of my friends in just such a place as 
this, some night, surrounded by just such pleasant condi- 
tions as we were surrounded with there, and then ask them 
if they are not glad they enlisted. 


380 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


As the first rays of the golden morning light shot across 
the grassy plateaus, the evergreen groves, the snow-capped 
peaks of Mount Ki-icht-hutl, I took up the field-glass and 
scanned that portion of the country visible from our camp, 
for game. I soon located two magnificent old rams standing 
on a ridge a few hundred yards away, gazing down in a stu- 
pid, curious way at our camp-fire. Their great, muscular 
bodies, clad in their heavy winter coats of dark, coarse hair, 
with the peculiar white patch about the rump; their strong 
but shapely limbs and massive, rolling horns, outlined 
against the bright gray of the morning sky, afforded a fine 
study, and I watched them for some minutes with the most 
intense interest before attempting to secure one of them. 

There was no cover that would enable us to approach 
nearer to them, and our only chance for a shot was to take 
it from where we were. We picked up our rifles, assumed 
what is known on the rifle-ranges as the kneeling position, 
took careful aim at the larger animal, and fired. They were 
too far away, however, for effective shooting, and we both 
failed to score. At the double report they bounded away 
a short distance, stopped, took another brief look at us, 
and then disappeared behind the hill. Charley followed 
them, while I breakfasted. He failed to get another shot at 
these, but returned in half an hour with a large ewe that he 
had killed a short distance beyond where they had stood. 

I went to the top of a high hill near camp, and from 
there saw four separate bands of Sheep. The smallest num- 
bered twelve; the next larger, nineteen; the next, thirty- 
two; and the largest, something over fifty. They were on 
a broad, open table-land, about a mile away, in such a posi- 
tion that it was well-nigh impossible to get within shooting- 
distance of them. I made a long detour to the left in the 
hope of approaching them—moving cautiously through 
small groves of timber, crawling on the ground behind 
slight elevations or ridges, skulking from tree to tree and 
from rock to rock. . 

In this way I traveled perhaps two miles. At frequent 
intervals, a Mule Deer, and sometimes several of them, 


‘THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 381 


would get up, stare at me for a few minutes, and then run, 

usually toward the creek. One band of ten danced along 
ahead of me for nearly a mile. They would run fifty or a 
hundred yards, then stop and look at me; nibble the grass 
or shrubs until I came near them, and then bound ‘away 
again. Finally, they seemed to tire of my society, and 
sailed away right through the Sheep-pasture. All this 
hegira of the Deer alarmed the Sheep; they became restive, 
and moved nervously about. I frequently peered over a 
ridge or through a thick clump of trees and watched their 
movements, but was careful that they should not get a 
glimpse of me. I was also careful to keep to the leeward, 
or at least across the wind from the game, so that they might 
not scent me. 

One by one the smaller bands finally took the alarm 
from the fleeing Deer, stampeded, and ran away; but the 
larger band, seeming to feel more confidence in its videttes, 
stood its ground. Nearly all the herd went into a deep 
draw to escape the cold, raw wind that was now blowing, 
and laid down. I felt sure of getting within easy range of 
them. I passed on through a strip of down timber, then 
over several wide beds of broken and disordered porphyry. 
Having got opposite the pocket in which I had last seen the 
Big Horns, I now started to crawl directly toward it. I 
hoped to get on the brink of the hill above them, and to 
pick out and kill the best ram in the flock, before they 
became aware of my presence; but I still kept jumping 
Deer, every one of which ran by the Sheep, and some of 
them right through the herd. 

When at last I reached the brow of the hill, removed 
my hat, and cautiously peered through the grass on its 
apex into the draw, there was not a Sheep in sight. Exam- 
ining the ground, I found a great many tracks, all indicating 
that the animals that made them had hurriedly fled to the 
north. Silently following them up to the head of the 
ravine, over a barren, rocky ridge, and through a narrow 
strip of stunted timber, I saw them in the middle of 
another small park. They had again apparently relapsed 


382 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


into a feeling of security, and I crawled to within about 
fifty yards of them. The majority of them had gone to 
feeding. Several of the lambs—gay, sprightly little creat- 
ures—were skipping and gamboling merrily about, just as 
you have seen domestic lambs play in a pasture-field. 

Some of the older animals were engaged in the more 
serious occupation of love-making. Two lusty old rams 
became involved in a quarrel over a demure-looking ewe, 
whom both seemed anxious to captivate. As one of them 
moved toward her, the other, which was a few feet in the 
Year, made a vicious rush at him, and striking him on the 
port quarter, sent him spinning and reeling a distance of 
twenty feet or more. This was the signal for open hostili- 
ties. The jealous rivals squared away, faced each other, 
and prepared for war. Fora moment they stood sullenly 
eying each other, their manes erect and their eyes flashing 
fire. Then, as if at a given signal, they lowered their 
heads and charged each other with all the force and fury 
of mailed knights in the lists. Their massive horns came 
together with a shock that seemed sufficient to grind them 
to splinters, and to dislocate the necks of the angry beasts; 
but they simply reeled, staggered, shook their heads, and 
then slowly backed off, until thirty or forty feet apart, for 
another encounter. Both now seemed more savage and 
desperate than before. They snorted, groaned, and pawed 
the ground in their rage. By this time most of the herd 
had gathered about to watch the battle. They formed 
almost a perfect ring around the contestants, and seemed as 


* deeply interested in the fight as are the toughs who gather 


to watch a human slugging-match. 

Again the burly foes went at each other with the speed 
of race-horses, and met with the same terrific shock as 
before. The sound of their clashing horns could have been 
heard a mile. The animals were evenly matched in size, 
and the contest was bitterly waged. Each round consisted 
of a single assault, and as the belligerents became heated 
and blown, the waits between the acts were prolonged, each 
requiring time to recuperate for the next onset. Both were 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 383 


now bleeding profusely at nose and ears, and apparently 
suffering great pain. Yet the terrible blows were given and 
received with as great spirit and as unwavering courage as 
at first. Finally, after a dozen or more rounds had been 
fought, both rams began to stagger and totter on their feet. 
Still, there was no indication as to which would be the 
victor. 

At this stage of the game, a restless partiont of one of 
the contestants made a rush at the other, and striking him 
squarely on the shoulder, knocked him down. No sooner 
had he dealt the blow, than he in turn received a counter- 
charge, from a champion of his victim, that sent him to 
grass. These two then squared for each other, and the 
fight at once became four-cornered. Shock after shock 
resounded over the hills, and the sound of the blows was . 
like that made by powerful men breaking rocks with great 
sledge-hammers. 

Finally, the original pair drew off, neither having 
strength nor inclination to pursue the other; each stagger- 
ing and reeling as if each step must be his last. The fresh 
combatants hammered away at each other until they in 
turn began to falter. But these were not so well paired as 
the others, the one that first entered the lists for his friend 
not being the equal of his antagonist in strength or staying 
qualities. At every onset he was .driven back, and more 
than once was forced to his knees by the superior weight 
and strength of his adversary. At last he was thrown 
backward with such force that he fell prostrate on his side. 
His antagonist followed up the advantage thus gained, and 
when the unfortunate creature attempted to rise, struck 
him a fearful blow that laid him ont, to all appearances 
stone-dead. The victor then walked away with his head 
up, and thus the battle was ended. The vanquished ram 
soon recovered, partially, and slowly regaining his feet, 
staggered away and left the herd. 

Talk about your ancient battering-rams, your modern 
Columbiads, and your Zalinski dynamite-guns! Give me © 
half a dozen of these wild battering-rams, lariated and 


384 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


trained to the work, and I'll take a contract to knock down 
the walls of Jericho in seven minutes, by the watch. 


I had followed up this band with the intention of kill- 
ing one or more of them; but these old rams, by their great 
courage, fortitude, and consequent suffering, had won 
immunity from my rifle, and I allowed them to go their 
way in peace. There were no others in the herd that I 
cared for, so | went in quest of another band. 

In the afternoon, I went to a large park that lay about a 
mile to the southeast. Crawling to the top of a ridge, 
whence I could command a good. view of the entire prairie, 
and peering over, I saw a bunch of six Sheep lying down, 
very near where I had killed the ewe the day before. There 
were two rams in the lot—one two-year-old, and one large 
one with a fine pair of horns. I decided to shoot at the 
two-year-old first, and take the chances on the old ram 
afterward. 

I supposed that after the first shot they would jump up 
and stand for a moment, as they usually do, trying to 
determine whence the report came, before running. In 
order to get within easy range, I had crawled to the same 
big fir-tree from which I had shot the day before, and draw- 
ing a coarse bead on the shoulder of the young ram, fired. 
They all sprung to their feet, and started at once for the 
precipice beyond, which seemed to be their place of refuge 
at all times when alarmed. 

The two-year-old fell dead after making two or three 
bounds, but the remaining five were going like the wind. 
I took a running-shot at the old patriarch just as they 
reached the jumping-off place, and as he disappeared I saw 
a hind leg swinging from side to side, like the pendulum of 
a clock, but rather faster. I followed them down the steep 
mountain-side a short distance, and looking carefully ahead 
of me through the brush and rocks, I saw the big, dark 
eyes of the wounded ram glaring at me over a ledge of 
- rocks, not more than a hundred feet below. He had 
apparently stopped and turned to see what it was that had 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 385 


struck him. His great, heavy, rolling horns loomed up 
over the ledge as if they had been carved there from the 
native granite. 

But I had no time to admire the picture. Quick asa 
flash, the heel-plate of the rifle was at my shoulder; I saw 
amomentary glimmer of a speck of gold between his eyes, 
and instinctively my finger pressed the trigger. But as I 
did so, I saw his head suddenly swing to the right, and I 
knew I had missed him. He had seen enough of me, and 
had sprung away in flight. But, quick asa flash of light- 
ning, the lever has swung down and back to place! Click— 
ock—click! The bright speck again gleamed on a fleeting . 
patch of gray hair—and bang! The mountain breeze 
quickly drove the smoke aside, but this did not enable me 
to see the game. It was gone—hidden in the labyrinth of 
junipers, jack-pines, firs, and rocks. I sprang out on an 
overhanging ledge, and strained my eyes, peering into the 
- jungle. I could not yet see him, but could hear him. Now 
he is down, and seems to be inthe death-throes. Hear the 
small rocks rattle away down the mountain-side—a perfect 
shower of them! He has dislodged them in his struggles. 
But hark! he is up again, and is making off. His progress 
is slow and difficult, and I can hear him fall every minute 
or two. But he is getting away, diagonally down and along 
the mountain-side. Look! there is an open space, away 
ahead, in the direction he is going. If he passes through 
it, I may get another shot. Sure enough, there he is in the 
edge of it, and nearly five hundred feet below me! He has 
stopped; he reels, staggers, and seems ready to lie down; 
but I will not risk it. I will give him another shot. Flash! 
bang! Now will you stop? Yes; he is down. But see! 
there he goes again! He is dead this time, though, and is 
rolling, tumbling, heels over head, end over end, down the 
almost perpendicular mountain-side. Where on earth will 
he stop? Now he is out of sight again in the thicket. 
Crash! thump! rattle-te-bang! he still goes. Now at last 
the noise has ceased; but has he stopped, or is he so far 


away that I can’t hear it? Shall I go down and see? And 
25 


386 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


if I do, can I ever get back up here? Well, I'll chance 
that. 5 

It required no effort to go down, but it did require all 
my strength to keep from going so fast as to break my neck 
and all the rest of my bones. I had to hang on to every 
bush, tree, and projecting rock that I could get hold of, and 
let myself down with one until I could reach another. 
Finally, after descending about six hundred feet, I found 
the object of my pursuit hanging to a small fir-tree. One 
of his horns had fortunately caught the tree, completely 
encircled it near the ground, and held him securely. It 
required all my strength to release him and get him in 
position for dressing. If he had not caught on this or some 
other friendly tree, he would doubtless have gone into Ash- 
anola Creek, fully two thousand feet below, before stop- 
ping. The ball I fired at him when looking at me had cut 
the tip of one horn as he swung his head; the next had 
passed through his flanks, and the third through both 
shoulders. 

And now arose another serious question—Could I get 
the game, or any portion of it, to camp? It would seem to 
require all the skill and all the power of the most expert 
Alpine-climber to scale that mountain-side without any 
incumbrance. But I said to myself that I would take the 
head of the Sheep to camp or stay with it till the Indian 
should come to hunt me. So I cut it off, skinning the neck 
back to the shoulders, and started with it. Then I bethought 
me that there was too much meat there to be wasted; 
so I turned back and dressed the carcass, that we might 
come after it next day, if I succeeded in getting to 
camp with the head. I now tied a piece of quarter-inch 
rope to the horns, forming a large loop of it, and putting it 
over my shoulders, so as to swing the head well up on my’ 
back, began the terrible ascent. J used my heavy rifle as 
an Alpine-stock, and with the other hand caught every 
bush, tree, and rock that could afford me any help, pull- 
ing myself up foot by foot and inch by inch. Once I 
caught hold of a currant-bush that grew in shallow soil on 


CAMPWARD BOUND 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 887 


oe of a bed of rock, and was raising myself by it, when 
its roots let go their slight hold, and I fell backward. I 
should have gone, no one knows how far, down the fearful 
declivity, even as my victim had lately gone, had I not 
fortunately caught a strong juniper-shrub that stood near. 
This friendly shrub was the means of my living to tell this 
story. 

I was compelled to stop every few minutes to rest. I 
would throw myself prostrate on any shelving rock or 
friendly bit of level earth that was large enough to hold 
me, and lie there like a dead man until I could recover 
sufficient breath and strength to resume my way. I fre- 
quently had to jump from point to point of projecting 
rocks, across open chasms which I could cross in no other 
way, and which there was no means of going around. 

Finally, after an almost superhuman struggle of more 
than two hours, I reached the top of the mountain, and fell 
on the soft grass in the park, more dead than alive. My 
clothing was wet with perspiration, though the temperature 
was far below the freezing-point. I lay there until I began 
to feel the pangs of cold and hunger; then I went and got 
the good, faithful old horse, Blue, who was picketed in the 
woods a few hundred yards away, lashed the Sheep-head on 
my riding-saddle, and led him to the camp. It was dark 
when I reached there, and Charley had a good, hot dinner 
of mountain mutton-chops, boiled potatoes, baked beans, 
and hot bread awaiting me. Did I eat? Well, you would 
not believe it if I told you how much I ate, and if you want 
to know, the best thing you can do is to go out there and 
try it for yourself. 

I could find no better hunting-ground than the same 
park, and went back to it early the next morning.’ Sure 
enough, there was another small band of Sheep. I picked 
out a large, fat ewe this time, and killed her. Then fora 
running-shot I selected a lamb. - I broke his hind leg, also, 
and he started down the hill, just as the ram had done the 
day before. I followed, and found him lying down just 
below the edge of the prairie. Another ball through the 


388 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


heart finished him, and it was but a few minutes’ work to 
carry him back to the level ground. Then I took a seam- 
less grain-bag that I had brought for the purpose, went 
down and cut off all the best meat from the ram, and 
brought it up. The task was equally as severe as that of 
bringing up the head; but I never waste meat when it is 
possible to save it. 

I brought old Blue to the front again, and with great 
difficulty succeeded in loading the ewe onto him and cinch- 
ing itdown. Then I put the bag of meat and the lamb on; 
and just as I had finished packing and cinching the load, 
T heard a snort, and looking in the direction whence it 
came, I saw a large ram standing looking at me, not more 
than fifty yards away. I had not expected to need my rifle 
on my way to camp, and had packed it in with the load. I 
seized it by the stock, and after tugging frantically at it for 
a minute or two, brought it out; but my visitor had con- 
cluded that he had seen all he cared to see of the outfit, and 
had taken a header down the mountain-side. We had now 
all the meat, heads, and skins our horses could carry, and 
returning to camp, made preparations to start home the 
next morning. 

Anyone who may wish to visit the Ashanola country will 
find the route I took perhaps the easiest, shortest, and 
most pleasant—. e., by way of the Northern Pacific Rail- 
road to Spokane Falls, Washington; thence by team to 
Loomis’ ranch, and from there by saddle and pack animals. 
It is about two hundred and twenty-five miles from Spo- 
kane to the hunting-grounds; but the trail leads through 
an interesting and beautiful country all the way, and, when 
once reached, the mountains along Ashanola Creek are, as_ 
I have already said, unquestionably the finest Sheep-range 
remaining on the continent. Deer are also there in count- 
less numbers. We never saw less than twenty-five or 
thirty in a day, and one day we counted seventy-two. We 
‘were not hunting them. If we had been, we could, of 
course, have found a great many more. But I hope thatno 
man will ever be so unmanly as to go there and slaughter 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 389 


game for the mere sake of sport, and then allow it to be 


wasted. Never kill more than you can take care of. 


The Sheep are not nearly so plentiful there now as they 
were five years ago, and probably five years hence it will 


- be difficult to find half a dozen in a week’s hunting. ‘‘ Pass- 


ing away’”’ is written over the gate-way to this hunter’s 
paradise, as it is over that leading to all hunting-grounds 
on this continent; and let no man hasten the time of the 
extinction of the Rocky Mountain Sheep more than is com- 
mensurate with his needs in the way of reasonable: sport 
and of trophies for preservation. | 


Ay . 
J Pt: Wy 
Pu - fee 


Le 


THE PECCARY. 


By A. G. Requa. 


HE Peccary, or South American Musk-hog, is found 

» in large herds in Old Mexico, and sometimes as far 

rd north as Arizona and Southern Texas. The largest 

ee? herds, however, are to be found in the interior of 
Old Mexico. 

In appearance, this animal resembles the common hog, 
but differs from it in many ways. The flesh of the Peccary 
is good to eat; but it is necessary to remove the dorsal pipe, 
or gland, immediately after killing, otherwise the meat 
will taste of the secretion which is found on its back, near 
the loin. The gland is about the size of a small orange, 
and contains an odorous matter smelling like musk; hence 
the name, Musk-hog. When they become angry, the odor 
emitted is very strong. ; 

There are two species of Peccary found in North Amer- 
ica. The common, or Collared Peccary, is about the size of 
a small hog; the bristles on the neck are longer, forming a 
mane, while a narrow, white collar surrounds the neck. 
The White-lipped Peccary is considerably larger, and of 
a darker color, with conspicuously white lips. The ears, 
which are short, and stand erect, are almost covered with 
the mane. The tail is not readily visible, but may be found 
on close inspection. It is flat, and only about two inches 
long. The male and female resemble each other closely. 
Once a year the female brings forth one or two young, of a 
uniform reddish tint. 

The White-lipped Peccary is found in large herds, usu- 
ally led by a male. When one of the herd is alarmed, he 
makes a signal by stamping with his feet, which is at once 
repeated by all the rest. They are then on their guard. If 


( 891) 


8392 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


one of their number is wounded so that it squeals, the 
whole herd becomes ferocious, will charge their enemy 
on sight, and speedily destroy him,.unless he escapes by 
climbing a tree or by flight. It has been stated by old 
hunters that if the leader of the band is killed, the rest will 
take to flight, while they will not do so though many of the 
common herd be killed. This is contrary to all the experi- 
ence I have ever had with them. They feed almost indis- 
criminately on animal or vegetable substances, but it may 
be considered that roots and grains form their principal 
nutriment. 

Both varieties are gregarious, herds of from two to - 
three hundred being sometimes found in the far Southwest. 
Where only a few are found together, the Mexican ranch- 
men sometimes hunt them with dogs, but never when a 
large herd is known to be in the country; for no ordinary 
pack of dogs could live long in a contest with one of these 
armies of savage, fearless brutes. The Wild Boar, the 
_ European congener of the Peccary, furnishes exciting sport 
when pursued: by hounds; but a single one of these animals 
will often kill several valuable dogs: before himself yielding 
to the combined attacks of the pack; and though the Pec- 
cary is not nearly so large or so powerful, and though not 
armed with the great tusks of the Boar, yet he is equally 
ferocious, and when congregated in such great numbers, 
they wage a most bitter and bloody war on any foe by 
whom they may be attacked. : 

Hunting the Peccary in Old Mexico is ; certainly excit- 
ing enough for the average hunter. In the fall of 1880, I 
left Hermosilla, the capital of the State of Sonora, with a 
Mexican guide, to prospect in the Sierra Madre Mountains. 
We had two pack-animals, two saddle-horses, and enough 
provisions to last forty days, except meat. Our route lay 
directly across the mountains. We were well armed, my 
guide carrying a Long Tom, or Needle-gun, anda pair of 
Colt’s revolvers, while I had a pair of 44 Colt’s and a 3240 
Marlin repeater (which rifle, by the way, is my favorite for 
small game). 


‘ 


Pace 


AT BAY. 


ee ee ee 


THE PECCARY. 393 


The first night out I was lucky enough to kill a large 
Mule Deer, but it proved to be poor. The next day we 
only traveled about twenty-seven miles, and camped at a 
small spring, well up in the mountains. _We saw numbers 
of doves, and after we got our horses staked out I shot the 
heads off several of them, and we had a Spanish stew, 
which was very fine. Near the spring, we noticed well- 
beaten trails made by the Peccaries coming there for water. 
My guide insisted on going up the mountain to capture one 
of them, but I would not listen to it, knowing the danger 
there is in attacking @ drove of them on their way to water. 

Early the next morning, we packed, and started just as 
the sun was showing over the mountains. We had trav- 
eled about five miles, when my guide pointed to the oppo- 
site side of the canon we were traveling in, and about 
three hundred yards distant I saw a large herd of Peccaries 
feeding. We stopped, and my guide being anxious to have 
a shot, took the Long Tom, and after raising the sights to 
the proper distance, took deliberate aim, resting his gun on 
a rock, and fired directly into the center of the bunch. At 
the report of the gun they threw up their heads, and seemed 
to wonder where the noise came from. The ball struck too 
high. The next shot was better, striking near the. center 
of the herd; but they only gathered closer together and 
snuffed the air. The third shot struck a rock, and the ball 
whizzing through the air seemed to frighten them, for they 
started down the canon and were soon out of sight. We 
then remounted and resumed our journey. 

There was water where we stopped at noon, so we stayed 
late; and after filling our canteens and giving our animals 
another drink, we traveled until ten o'clock at night, and 
then made a dry camp. Next morning we were off before 
daylight, so we could reach water before our animals got 
too thirsty. We reached the Yaqui River, which flows 
south and empties into the Gulf of California. Here we 
camped near a settlement of the Yaqui Indians where we 
got some fresh goat’s milk and some fine cactus-fruit, of 
which there are several kinds growing on this river. 


394 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


The Yaqui Indians speak the Spanish language poorly, 
and are but half-civilized. They cultivate small fields, and 
plow with a forked stick. Sometimes the women pull the 
stick intended for a plow, and sometimes a burro or small 
jack furnishes the motive power. We learned from 
the natives that there was a small insurrection going on,: 
down the river, between some of the Mexicans and Yaqui 
Indians. I afterward learned that such things occurred 
every time they had a good crop of beans. So, deciding 
not to go into the mountains until things got more settled, 
we moved up the river ten miles, near an Indian settlement, 
and prepared to stay a week or two. The first two days 
were spent fishing and picking fruit, which grows in great 
abundance on the many kinds of cactus which are to be 
found in the vicinity of this river. 

The mammoth cactus grows here in great abundance, and 
the novel way hunters have of picking this fruit would sur- 
prise many of our Eastern friends. This cactus grows from 
fifty to one hundred feet high, being about three to four 
feet in diameter, and having one or two limbs, which are 
the same size of the body. The top is as large as any part 
of the body, and right on the top is where the fruit grows. 
In some instances, fifty or more blossoms come out. When 
the fruit is ripe it looks and tastes much like a black mul- 
berry. Each berry is protected by a kind of husk which 
stands up around it. The fruit is about three inches long 
and one inch in diameter. The only way to get this fruit is 
with the rifle, unless you cut the whole tree down; but with 
the rifle it can be had easily. _The top of the tree, under 
the fruit, is soft and spongy. The trees usually grow on 
the side of the mountain, which is quite steep. By climb- 
ing up the mountain, opposite the top of the tree, you can get 
within fifty feet of the fruit, and directly opposite it; then, 
by firing eight or ten shots from your rifle, you may cut the 
whole top off, and down comes the most delicious fruit that 
man ever ate. We called it picking fruit with the Marlin. 

The second day we were at this camp, a native came to us 
and tried hard to buy my rifle. He told us the Peccaries 


—— eT 


Se eee ye ey 
on = 


THE PECCARY. 395 


had destroyed all his crop, and he wanted to join the insur- 
rection; he said that was the only way he could get any- 
thing to eat, since his crop had been destroyed. I induced 
him, by offering him a small sum of money and all the Pec- 
caries he could use, to show us where to find them. Next 
morning he was at our camp, mounted on a burro, and we 
were soon off. Going up the river three miles, then turn- 
ing toward the mountains and following up a cafion, we 
came to his casa and a small field which he had irrigated 
from a spring farther up the canon. He said he was always 
bothered with the Peccaries, but had managed to raise a 
crop until this time, when they became so bold as to come 
to the field in broad daylight. 

We followed up this cafion, finding lots of trails, showing 
that there were large bodies of the Peccaries together. We 
traveled directly up the main cafion about four miles, then 
followed a well-beaten trail which turned up a small side 
canon. After following this trail two miles, it seemed as if 
they had scattered, and everything indicated that we had 
reached their feeding-grounds. The ground was rooted up 
in every direction. We had been steadily climbing since we 
left the river, and must now have been three thousand feet 
above its bed. The country was more level, and was covered. 
with underbrush, cactus, and a few trees. We were on the 
second bench of the table-lands, which is usually the home 
of the Peccary. 

As we rode out from the canon on this almost level land, 
we could see for miles away, but were unable to see any 
of our game, the brush being about five feet high on an 
average. The Yaqui had said but little since we started up 
the last caion, and as we got on top of this bench he 
stopped and refused to go any farther, saying the Peccaries 
were there—meaning in the brush—and that he would go 
back in the caiion, get in a tree, and wait for us to come 
back. I knew what the matter was; he was getting scared. 
He then told us there had been two Yaquis eaten by the 
Peccaries, near there, a year ago, and that the way to get 
them was to wait until they came down for water, and then 


396 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


kill them from the sides of the canon. I began to think 
that way myself, but my guide was wild to get a shot at 
them, so we left our Indian and pressed on through the 
brush; but our progress was slow, as the brush became 
thicker. I was in the lead, when all at once my horse 
stopped and began to snort; then for the first time I real- 
ized the dangerous ground we were on, for the best time we 
could make through the brush was a walk. My horse kept 
snorting, and at last I saw, not more than ten feet from me, 
a dead Peceary, partially eaten. We rode up a little closer, 
and discovered that it had just been killed. Getting off my 
horse, I observed tracks made by the Silver Lion, or Cougar. 

I then knew we were on dangerous ground, as the Lion 
could not be far off. I got on my horse, and took my rifle in 
my hand, just as I heard a fierce growl come from the brush 
directly in front of us. My horse was behaving badly, and 
I could not get sight of the Lion. I told my guide to ride 
up by my side and take his revolver in his hand, putting 
his Long Tom in the case. I did the same; then we both 
- rode straight toward where the noise came from. We got a 
glimpse of the Lion as he ran through the brush, and both 
fired at him. We could hear him traveling through the 
brush, and pretty soon saw him spring up on a rock about 
two hundred yards away, and face around to get a good 
look at us. This was my chance, and taking my Marlin 
out of the case, I raised the sights, slid off my horse, and 
fired. My guide said I had not touched him, but I was 
certain I had; and getting on my horse, we rode up to the 
rock, and there lay our Lion, shot through the small of the 
back. It proved to be a small female. We took the skin, 
and concluded to take the Indian’s advice; so we went back 
and found him in a scrub-pine, and the jack feeding near 
him. He had heard the shooting and got scared, thinking 
the Peccaries would be after us. He seemed to be very 
much afraid, so we started down the canon to find water, 
where we stopped and ate some lunch. 

After letting our horses graze for an hour, we had just 
started, when our Indian pointed to the mountain and then 


eS 


ee ee ee tt 


LK —— se as 


THE PECCARY. 397 


started down the cajion. Taking my field-glass, I could see 
something coming down the trail. I told my guide to get 
on his horse, but he would not. Pretty soon we could hear 
the noise of their hoofs as they came down the mountain. 
I saw there was only a small bunch of them, so I tied my 
horse and got down behind a large rock near the trail. 
Just then my guide fired and killed one. Then he fired 
again, and- down went another. Then I fired, but only 
wounded one, and it began to squeal, when the rest of them 
caught sight of my guide and went after him. Just then 
the Long Tom spoke again, and another one rolled over. 
Now there were but three left, and they were not more than 
twenty feet from me. I got two of them with my Marlin. 
My guide had thrown down the Long Tom and drawn his 
Colt’s revolver, when the only one left charged right at 
him, and he killed it not more than two feet from the 
muzzle of his revolver; making seven we had killed in that 
many seconds. 

We cut the musk or gland from two of thesmallest, tied 
them behind our saddles, and started down the canon, well 
pleased with our day’s hunt. We found our Indian at 
home, and when we told him what we had done he seemed 
surprised, as he expected us both to be eaten. We gave 
him both the Peccaries, except the hams of one, and told 
him to go and get the rest that night. We had fried Pec- 
cary, fried fish, and fried quail for supper. 

All that evening my guide begged me to go again next 
day. When I told him there was lots of danger, he only 
laughed, and said he would go alone if I would not go with 
him. Next morning, I again tried to persuade him out of 
the notion; but nothing would satisfy him, and at sunrise 
he was off. It was the last I ever saw of poor Frank Yanso. 

I put in the day fishing, and that night I watched and 
waited all night for him, but no Frank came; s6, early the 
next morning I was in the saddle, riding up the river on 
a swinging lope. It did not take me long to get to the 
house of the Indian who had showed us the hunting- 
ground two days before, and speaking in Spanish, I asked 


398 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


him if my guide had been there. He said he had, at about 
the same time. the morning before, and tried hard to get 
him to go with him, which he did as far as the mouth of 
the caiion where we had killed the seven Peccaries. He had 
got two on his burro, and came back, but Frank had gone 
on up the same cafion, saying he was going to kill a Lion 
himself. 

The Yaqui said he told him not to go, but it did no good. 
Then I knew something had happened him; so I followed 
up the cafion until I came to where the small cafion turned 
off. I followed that, and came out where we had been two 
days before. I rode directly to the rock I had shot the Mount- 
ain Lion from, hitched my horse, and climbed up on the 
rock. After looking in every direction, I saw a higher point 
nearly a mile away. I went to that, making my way 
through the underbrush as best I could, and had got near 
the point when my horse suddenly raised his head and 
whinnied. Looking straight ahead, and beyond the rocks, 
I saw Frank’s horse tied to a small scrub-cedar. Riding to 
him, I looked in every direction for Frank; then I called, 
but no answer. I went to the rocks, and going on the 
highest one, commenced looking with my field-glass. At 
last I took the glass down, and was getting down from the 
rocks when I saw the Long Tom lying near, on the ground. 
I crawled down, and saw that the ground was all torn up 
around there, with blood-marks and hundreds of tracks 
made by the Peccaries; and looking further, I found small 
pieces of clothing, and one of Frank’s revolvers. I also 
noticed tracks of the Lion. Then I went back on the rocks, 
examined closely, and found tracks of Peccaries on the 
rocks. By this time my hair was standing nearly straight. 
I got down, picked up the revolver and rifle, got on my 


horse, untied the other one, and started back. It seemed | 


lonesome up there, and I got back to the Indian’s ranch as 
soon as possible. When I told him what I had seen, he 
seemed to think the Peccaries had done the work; but I 
shall always believe it was the Lion. My opinion is that he 
had hitched his horse and gone on the rocks to look for 


a Se ee = sil 


re et ae 


See see. ee ee a pe ae 


' THE PECCARY. ‘ 399 


game; that he had shot at and probably wounded the Lion, 
and it had killed him; that then the Peccaries came along 
and ate the body. I think that if the Peccaries had killed 
him, they would have tackled the horse, too, for they get 
very savage when they are excited. | 

Next day I learned that the natives expected the troops 
to make a raid down the river; so I hired a native, packed 
up, and left. 


The next spring I was again in Hermosilla, and telling 
my friends of my troubles, they suggested we make up a 
party and try to get even with the festive pigs. They 
said they knew where to find a large herd, within one day’s 
travel; so it was decided to leave early the next morning. 
There were four in the party, all armed with Marlin repeat- 
ing-rifles and Colt’s revolvers. Each had a saddle-horse, 
and we had two pack-animals. We got off at eight o’clock, 
and at ten that night we camped about forty miles from Her- 
mosilla, well up in the mountains, on the bank of a small 
stream fed by a spring near by. : 

Next morning we could see signs of our game, where 
they had come for water. After getting something to eat, 
we all started, leaving our horses. We kept together, fol- 
lowing one of the many trails which led up the side of the 
mountain. We had agreed to keep together, and not go in 
the open country, but to keep near the trees, as that is the 
only safe way where there are large herds. We had gone 
about a mile when we came to fresh signs, which we fol- 
lowed. The wind was favorable, so we had no fear that 
they would scent us, and we soon came in sight of a large 
herd. They were feeding near the top of a small divide, 
and we watched them until the last one had passed over; 
then, hurrying to the top, we could see them not more than 
eighty yards distant. : 

I counted three, and we all fired. They gathered closer 
together, near one that had been killed, when we gave them 
another round, this time with better effect, as we saw two 
drop; then the firing became faster, and the Peccaries 


400 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, : 


seemed dazed. They stood around and snuffed the air, 
while we emptied our rifles. While reloading, they seemed 
to get sight of us for the first time, gave a snort, and down 
the mountain they went. We fired at them until out of 
sight, and on counting up, found we had killed eleven where 
they stood and three while they were running. 

We cut the hind quarters from four of the fattest, hung 
them in some trees, and followed the herd, which it was 
easy to do. The ground being soft, they made a good trail, 
and after following them about a mile we saw them again, 
feeding. We made a circuit around a small hill and got 
close to them, but they broke at the first fire. However, 
we had good shots, as they ran close together, over compar- 
atively open ground, and dispatched seven before they got 
away. This was sport enough for one day, so we started 
for camp. 

That night we discussed the best plans for killing the 
Peccaries, and concluded that we would try to get close to 
them and near some trees; then one man could shoot and 
cripple one of them; then let them smell us, and they would 
come for us. We would then climb the trees, and while 
they would try to gnaw the trees down we could kill the 
whole herd, as it is a well-known fact that if they wind you 
after one of them is crippled, they will charge you. Then, 
the only show is to go up a tree or outrun them, which I 
found, the following day, to be hard to do. We had deter- 
mined to kill the whole herd if possible, though I now see 
how foolish it was, as we had no use for them. 

Early next morning we were off up the mountain, with 
a hundred shells each, determined to kill all there were in 
the herd, provided we could get them to charge us. As 
before, we agreed to keep together and near the trees, there 
being plenty of scrub-cedars growing on the sides of the 
mountain. We went in the same direction we had gone 
the first day, and going to where we killed the first ones, we 
found one had been eaten and another carried off. We 
saw by the tracks that this had been done by a Grizzly, 
and some of the boys wanted to follow him; so we took a 


we. St rs we 
3, ’ a jy as 
ee ee ee Es 


* THE PECCARY. 401 


vote on it. Two were in favor of the proposition and two 
opposed. At last they left it tome. Peccaries were large 
enough game for me; ‘so on we went, looking for fresh signs, 
by which the Peccaries are easily found. Taking my field- 
glass, I was able to see the opposite side of the cafion, a 
mile away, and could see something moving. There were a 
number of animate objects, but we could not decide what 
they were, as they were soon out of sight. It was decided 
that I should go down the cafion a mile, cross, and go up 
the other side, and if I found them to be Peccaries, I was 
to fire my revolver three times, so the others could join me; 
if they were not Peccaries, we were to go up the cafion 
until we found the game we were after, when the same 
signal should be given by the party finding them. 

I was not long in reaching the ground where I had seen 
the objects, and soon found that what I saw was a large 
drove of turkeys, instead of Peccaries. The turkeys in 
Mexico are smaller than our common wild turkey of the 
North, and almost coal-black.. I was anxious to get one; 
so I followed the trail up the mountain, when all at once 
up flew the whole flock. They had heard or seen me fol- 
lowing them, and hid until I got right among them. One 
of them lit in a tree near by, and I was not long in getting 
him down. The rest of the flock flew down the mountain; 
_ so I took the one I had killed and started down after them. 
Frequently I would get a glimpse of one running, down 
below me, and at last got another shot, but missed. Then 
they all flew clear across the caiion. I watched them aligit, 
then sat down on a rock to rest, taking my coat off, for by 
this time I was quite warm. 

I had not sat there more than five minutes before. I 
heard the sharp noise of the Peccaries. They came in sight 
not more than twenty yards below me. There were not 
more than a dozen that I could see, and there were plenty 
of small pines near by; so I thought I would just kill the 
whole herd, provided they showed fight. As they came 
into the open ground, they seemed to wind me, as they 


began to snuff and paw. I fired at one, and, just as I 
26 


402 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


intended, only crippled him. He set up a great squealing, 
and, sure enough, here they came! I was just a little 
excited, and started for a tree, forgetting my coat and tur- 
_key. I had scarcely time to get up when they were around 
the tree, and instead of twelve, they kept coming until 
there were at least two hundred. 

I commenced shooting, and killed five with my rifle, 
that being the number of shells in my gun. It then 
occurred to me that my rifle-shells were in my coat; so, 
having no further use for my rifle, and realizing that it 
would become a burden ‘to me if compelled to stay in the 
tree several hours, as seemed likely, I threw it down. 
Fortunately, I had both revolvers, and a belt full of car- 
tridges for them; so I went.atthem. They were chewing the 
tree, and climbing over each other trying to get at me. 
Each shot laid one out, and each shot seemed to make them — 
more and more furious, as they would rush at the tree, and 
gnaw the bark and wood, while the white flakes of froth fell 
from theirmouths. All at once I remembered that my car- 
tridges would soon run out, so I quit shooting and watched 
- them. When one would rear up and act as if he wanted to 
climb the tree, I would give him a load; then they would rush 
at the tree again, and bite and gnaw. I tried to count them, 
and found that there were over two hundred left, and I had 
killed twenty-three. The position I had was not a comfort- 
able one, but I had to stand it. Then for the first time I 
thoughtof the boys. Had they heard my shooting? If so, 
would they come? Then I remembered I had not fired the 
signal agreed on, and that I. had followed the turkeys up 
the mountain and down again, and by this time the boys 
must be four miles up the cajion, and on the opposite side. 

The Peccaries showed no signs of leaving. It was now 
noon, and very warm. They would root around, then 
come back to the tree, and grunt, and paw, and bite the 
tree; then they would cool down a little, would go a short 
distance away, root around awhile, then come back again. 
I was getting tired of being treed, but it was just what we 
had planned the night before, only we were not all together. 


mer (eee en ge 


\ = egg 


ONLY WAITING, 


a al ts he 


ee 


THE PECCARY. 403 


If the boys could only hear my firing, and come over, how 
quick we would wipe them out. 

Such thoughts ran through my head; but still the pigs 
stayed. One o'clock came, then two; still they stayed. 
Then I thought I would fire a signal with my revolver—may 
be the boys were hunting for me; so I made a noise, and 
back to the tree they came. I killed three of them in about 
asecond; then I waited. Three o’clock came, then four, and 
no signs of the boys. Some of the pigs would feed while 
others stood guard; then they would change off. I was so 
tired I could scareely stay in the tree; so I took my belt off 
and buckled myself fast to the trunk, so that I would not 
fall out. 

Seven o'clock! I could see no change; they still camped 
near me, showing no signs of weakening. Then the sun 
went behind the mountain; darkness came on, and I was 
thirsty, hungry, and tired; but, worse than all, I was a pris- 
oner. ‘Twelve o’clock! The moon shone brightly, and I 
could see my sentinels scattered around. Two o'clock! 
Then came a signal from some of the outside ones; the rest 
snuffed the air, then away they all went. I could hear them 
far below, going down the mountain. 

I then commenced to wonder what had started them all 
at once. Was it a Grizzly or a Silver Lion? If either, I 
was still in danger. I listened a few minutes, but could 
hear nothing, see nothing; so I unloosed the belt and got 
down, more dead than alive—so stiff and cramped that I 
could scarcely walk. I went first to where I left my turkey 
and coat. The turkey had been eaten, and my coat had 
been thoroughly chewed. I found a few cartridges scat- 
tered around, and putting them in my rifle, I started for 
camp, where I arrived just at day-break. Two of the boys 
were out on horseback, hunting for me. Iwas so tired I 
could not stand, and after eating a little and having two 


~ cups of strong coffee, I went to sleep. When I awoke, at 


twelve oclock, the boys had come in. They said after I 
left them they had gone back and trailed the Grizzly six 
miles into a deep cafion, but failed to get sight of him. I 


404 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


told them I had-all the Peccaries I wanted, and was ready 
to go back; so next day we packed, and rode into Hermo- 
silla well satisfied. Hereafter, anyone who wants to hunt 
Peccaries can hunt them and be blanked; but I prefer some 
kind of game that is not so fond of human flesh as they 
are. 


THE COUGAR. 


By W. A. Perry (‘*Sm.Laricum”), 


Af HIS animal has the distinction of being called a 
1\5 number of names. Like the African Lion, he isa 
ferocious brute, almost similar to that animal in 
color, and has the same trait of instantly killing 
his prey. He was originally, and still is in some localities, 
called the American Lion. Among the people in the West- 
ern States it was formerly called the Panther, and by com- 
mon custom this name degenerated into ‘‘Painter.’’ In 
New England it was sometimes called the Catamount. The 
French in the early settlement of Louisiana called it Cougar, - 
and some of their naturalists, eager to make a little 
notoriety, gave it the name of Carcajou, which really 
belongs to the Glutton. Others called it by the outlandish, 
unpronounceable name of Gouazoura, and if they could 
have found a worse name they would doubtless have applied 
it to this much-named creature. By the title of Puma, 
given to it by the South Americans, and by the names of 
California Lion and Mountain Lion, it is generally known in 
the United States. 

This animal is similar in shape to the Mustela, its body 
being long and slender, the legs short and stout. The head 
is small when compared with the body, and is always 
carried high. He is a rather proud chap, is our Cougar. 

His color is silvery fawn, sometimes approaching to red 
on the upper part of the body, the tawny hairs of the upper 
parts being whitish at the tips. The belly and inside of the 
legs are almost white, the head black and gray irregularly 
mixed. The female is colored like the male. The Cougar 
varies in length from eight and one-half to eleven feet, from 


point of nose to tip of tail. 
( 405 ) 


406 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


The Cougar is the Tiger of the Occident, being the largest 
of the cat kind found in the northern part of the Western 
Hemisphere. His range extends from the Arctic Circle to 
Patagonia, but east of the Rocky Mountains he is alto- 
gether extirpated or extremely rare, except in the Southern 
States. It is yet abundant in Northern California, Oregon, 
Washington, British Columbia, and Alaska. It is especially 
abundant in Northern Washington, along the Skagit and 
Nooksack Rivers, the abundance of Deer, grouse, rabbits, 
and fish in the streams, furnishing it with a never-failing 
supply of food; and here it obtains its greatest development 
in size. | 


Cougar and Young. 


It is a subject of discussion among hunters as to the 
number of young that the Cougar produces at a birth. 
The naturalists state that the litters usually vary from 
three to five, but from my own personal experience, and 
from extensive inquiries among other hunters and trappers, 
I can not corroborate this statement. I have never found 
more than two kittens in a litter; and very pretty little 


a aS in I ae Tae i Ra a ag ily ie 


THE COUGAR. 407 


creatures they are, spotted, and sometimes striped like the 
turquoise-shell cat. The den they are born in is usually a 
cave in the rock on the mountain-side, or a hollow tree in 
some dense thicket. The Cougar is a very affectionate 
mother, and will fight to the death in defense of her young. 

The Cougar is stated by naturalists to be a nocturnal 
animal, but in this they are also mistaken. He may be 
nocturnal in a measure, but he is also diurnal, and seeks 
his prey by day as well as night, as many a poor rancher 
can testify, through losses of colts, sheep, calves, and cattle, 
day-victims to this greedy marauder. Neither is it the 
cowardly animal that the above-named gentlemen term it, 
but it will fight boldly in defense of its young or its prey. 
In another place I will relate several instances where it has 
attacked people in daylight, and, on the other hand, I have 
never known it to attack a person at night. 

The food of the Cougar consists of Deer, Elk, sheep, 
hogs, birds, snails, fish, rabbits, rats, and mice. He is 
very destructive, often killing, apparently, for the mere 
delight of destroying. While I write this, my feet rest on 
the skin of a Cougar that killed nineteen sheep the morn- 
ing that his skin became mine. The Bear delights to feast 
from the quivering flesh of its living prey, while the Con- 
gar will not begin its meal until its victim is dead, and that 
death is usually instantaneous. A flash of lightning could 
not be more sudden in its work than is the leap of Felis 
concolor. A swoop of that great, muscular paw, and if the 
victim’s neck is not broken, the white, glistening, ivory 
fangs cut through the neck and sever the spinal cord. But 
there are exceptions to this method, as in the case’of fawns 
and children. These the Cougar seizes and carries away as 
a cat does a mouse. But the favorite food of the Cougar 
appears to be horse-flesh, and the younger the colt, the more 
to his taste. If the mare fight in defense of her colt, she 
will also become a victim, for the Cougar is a determined 
brute, and only interference on the part of some powerful 
enemy will divert him from his prey. I have known a 
Cougar to kill a good-sized Indian pony and its colt, and 


408 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


drag them across a meadow and over a high fence into the 
adjoining woods. This seems almost incredible; but many - 
instances are on record, attested by indisputable evidence, 
showing equally great feats of their strength. 

I was a witness of a battle between a Jersey cow and a 
Cougar, in which, however, the cow held her own. When I 
first occupied my ranch on the Sumas, in 1877, the country 
was a wilderness, there being only five inhabitants in the 
township. I was the possessor of five Jersey cows, and 
one after the other fell victims to what I supposed were 
Grizzly Bears, until only one was left. At last she disap- 
peared, and I searched the woods far and near for two days, 
but could find no trace of her. Early on the third morning 
I was awakened by a loud bellowing, such as the cow only 
makes when in extreme terror or distress. Hastily dress- 
ing, I seized my rifle and ran up the hill into the fir grove 
from whence the sounds came. Entering the grove, my 
attention was at once attracted toa large Cougar, which was 
slowly walking around the bellowing cow. She was backed 
up against a large log, and a calf, apparently a day old, 
was lying almost under the log, directly behind the cow. 
' Knowing that the Cougar could not escape me, I became 
an interested spectator of the fight. Whenever the Cougar 
approached too near, the cow, with a fearful bellow, would 
charge the Cougar, which in turn would avoid her sharp 
horns, and strike a heavy blow at her neck with his paw, 
which the cow would dodge as quickly as it was given. I 
could see that the Cougar intended to draw the cow away 
some distance, and then rush up and seize the calf; but 
the cow appeared to be aware of this design, as she would 
only chase the brute a short distance, then return and take 
her position over her calf. At last the Cougar seemed 
determined to end the battle. Walking to a convenient 
distance for a spring, he crouched in front of the cow, but 
as he was about to rise in.the air, a Winchester bullet 
entered his brain, and he fell, writhing in the throes of 
death. The cow made a rush, planted her horns in the 


SURPRISED, 


ann ei 


et 


elle a i alist 
a a has : 


THE COUGAR. 409 


prostrate animal, and gored and trampled him until I drove 
her away. 4 

At another time I was a witness of a Cougar seeking his 
prey, but it was not of so large or so noble a species as 
that I have just mentioned. One day, while shooting ducks 
on a marsh near Sumas Lake, I saw a large animal going 
through some eccentric motions, and drawing near, I saw it 
was a Cougar trying to catch something that was concealed 
beneath a cotton-wood log about ten feet long and three feet 
in diameter. He would stand erect behind the log, and with 
his paws would give it a heavy jerk, rolling the log a yard or- 
more, and at the same time would spring over it and strike 
heavy blows, first with one paw and then with the other, at 
some object on the ground. I watched him roll the log 
over several times before he saw me, but when he did, he 
beat a hasty retreat. Curious to know what he was trying 
to catch, I, by the aid of a pole that I found near, rolled 
the log over, and found—two mice. It was a most ridicu- 
lous and awkward figure that the great brute made in try- 
ing to catch his diminutive prey. 

There is a popular fallacy to the effect that the Cougar 
secures his prey by remaining concealed over some game- 
trail, on the limb of a tree, and that by a sudden spring 
from his secure elevation he seizes and strikes his prey dead. 
In Washington it is usually at least a hundred feet to 
the first limb of the trees—a very inconvenient height for a 
Cougar, or, in fact, for any living quadruped, to spring from. 


- I have tracked Cougars several times in the snow, where 


they were on the trail of Deer, and twice have found them. 


- feasting on their quarry. In every case the mode of pro- 


cedure had been the same. They had crept stealthily 
behind the Deer until near enough, when, by a sudden 
spring, they had struck it down. Death in each case must 
have been instantaneous, as they lay dead in their tracks, 
and there was no sign of a struggle. 

One of the few authentic instances of a Cougar seizing 
a large animal is given by Mr. John Harkness, of Clear- 
brook, Washington. One June evening, he went to drive 


410 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


home his cows that pastured in a swamp near at hand. 
This swamp was bordered by a belt of willows. When 
he reached the willows, he learned, by the ringing of the 
bells, that the cows were coming home. Seating himself on 
a log, he awaited their coming. One by one they came 
through the willow-bordered path, until the last one, a 
yearling steer, stopped a few feet away from him and began 
to graze; and just at this time he became aware of a 
stealthy gray form that was intently creeping behind the 
steer. It took but a glance to ascertain that the lithe 
form was that of a large Cougar. John felt rather uncom- 
fortable, but sat quietly, and watched the actions of the 
Cougar. 

The latter, crouching, almost crawling along the ground, 
slowly neared its intended victim. Every motion of the 
calf was carefully noted, and whenever it raised its head 
the Cougar would crouch motionless on the grass; but 
when the calf dropped its head, the snake-like, insidious 
motion in the long, lithe body of the great cat was resumed 
until it was at the very heels of the calf. Then, rearing 
slowly up, it reached its fore paws gently over the shoulders 
of the calf. The Cougar was a sight to behold. With blaz- 
ing eyes, and with lips curled upward exposing its white 
fangs, it waited for the calf to raise its head. Then the 
long, graceful body would have surged, and with the clos- 
ing of the fangs on the calf’s neck, death would have been 
instantaneous. But, before it could carry out its inten- 
tions, John gave a loud yell, which so terrified the Cougar 
that he fell backward, scrambled to his feet, and, with 
one leap, vanished in the-willows. 

The Cougar will not eat carrion; neither will he refuse 
an animal lately killed. One day, when shooting rabbits, I 
. tied together a number that I had killed, and hung them 
on a branch of an alder which overhung the path. Return- 
ing along the same path shortly after, I met a Cougar 
trotting leisurely along with my rabbits in his mouth. 
Having a shell loaded with buckshot, he paid for his dis- 
honesty with his life. ‘ 


Se Se eee ee a eo se 


THE COUGAR. 411 


The gait of a Cougar is the same as that of the domestic 
cat—either a trot or a plunging run. They are not very 
swift, and will easily tree to even a small cur dog. There 
is nothing that the Cougar fears so much as a dog, and 
they will take to the nearest tree at the sight of one. They 
can climb with the greatest facility. 

Sometimes, when the hunter is stalking the Deer in the 
deep recesses of the forest, he is startled by a fiendish ery— 
a cry so unearthly and so weird that even the man of 
stoutest heart will start in affright; a cry that can only be 
likened to a scream of demoniac laughter. This is the cry — 
of the male Cougar. If it is answered by the female, the 
response will be similar to the wail of a child in terrible pain. 

The method usually employed in hunting the Cougar is 
chasing them with dogs. Any dog that will chase a cat 
will pursue a Cougar. The best dogs I ever used in hunt- 
ing the Cougar were Collies. I once hunted a season with 
a wise old Deer-hound, who was infallible when on the trail 
of a Cougar; but when he had succeeded in ‘‘treeing”’ 
the animal, and I would prepare to shoot, he would mod- 
estly retire. After hearing the report of my Winchester, 
he would sedately return and inspect the dead Cougar with 
solemn gravity. He was a scarred hero of the wilderness, 
and no doubt in his youth had waged so many battles with 
the ‘‘ big kitty’ that he had grown cautious in his old age. 

Concerning the tenacity of life, I do not think that there 
is an animal of its size that is so easily killed as that under 
discussion. I have known them to be killed with a shot- 
gun and No. 6 shot. The gun that I have always used in 
hunting these animals was a Model ’73 Winchester, 44 
caliber; but to the novice or amateur who desires to hunt 
these animals, | would recommend the Model ’86 Win- 
chester repeater, in any caliber above 38. Ina recent hunt- 
ing-trip I used an ’86 Model, 50-110, and found it to be the 
most paralyzing rifle 1 ever used, killing Deer and Cinna- 
mon Bears as if they had been struck by lightning. 

There is no systematic manner of hunting the Cougar. 
When still-hunting the Deer, the hunter often observes a 


412 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


shadow-like movement among the trees. He listens, then 
watches in the direction where he saw the shadow. If he 
should see a tawny form appear, let him fire at it instantly. 
If the shot has been well-aimed, he will be assured of its suc- 
cess by hearing a piercing scream, or witnessing the most 
exuberant exhibition of ground and lofty tumbling that he 
has ever seen. Sometimes he will also see the great Cat 
come plunging rapidly in his direction. At one time, when 
hunting on the Chilliwhack River, in British Columbia, I 
saw what.I thought was a Deer, stealing away from me in 
the bushes. Drawing a bead on the vanishing animal, I 
fired, and instantly it-changed its course and came rushing 
at me. Isaw that it was a large Cougar. The next shot 
was more fortunate, and broke its spine, and even then it 
dragged its body toward me on its fore legs. I then shot 
out first one eye, and then the other. In a few moments it 
ceased to struggle, and when I reached it I found that the 
first shot had passed through its stomach. A wound in the 
stomach enrages either a Bear or a Cougar. 

If the sportsman, desirous of killing a Cougar, proceeds 
to any of the settlements in the mountain districts of Brit- 
ish Columbia, he will not have to wait long before he has 
the desired pleasure. Let his wish be known, and it will 
not be long before he is notified, by some luckless rancher, 
of a loss of some calf, colt, or sheep. Let him proceed to 
the scene of slaughter, accompanied by a dog of any kind 
that will chase a common cat. The Cougar always gorges 
himself when he kills, and then goes to sleep. He will be 
found near his prey, and, with little exertion and no attend- 
ing danger, the hunter may secure the desired animal, as it 
will take to the nearest tree on approach of the dog, who 
by barking will notify the hunter of his quarry. 

There is no use attempting to still-hunt the Cougar. If 
aware you are on his trail, he will keep but a short distance 
away from you; but so noiseless are his steps, so keen his 
sight, and so accurate is his scent, that the hunter is not 
likely to obtain a glimpse of his royal catship. Sometimes 
the game will circle around and follow directly in the trail 


Pe a PA Pa ee ee ee Se eT ae Ae CE eee Ye em ck 


ee ee 


Pee vie 


a ae 


— 


a 


“= 


THE COUGAR. 413 


of the hunter, dogging his footsteps for miles; but let him 
take the back track, and he will soon discover that the Cou- 
gar has again doubled on his trail. 


In order to show that the Cougar is not the cowardly or 
nocturnal animal that the naturalists claim it to be, I will 
relate a few instances in which it has attacked people in 
day-time. One of these instances illustrates a remarkable _ 
case of boyish heroism. 


In the spring of 1886, the children of a Mr. Farnham, 
who resides a few miles from Olympia, Washington, were 
returning from school, when Walter, the eldest, a boy of 
twelve, noticed something that he thought was a large yel- 
low dog, trotting in the road behind them. They paid no 
attention to it, as large mongrel dogs, of this color, abound 
everywhere in the vicinity of the Indian camps, but played 
leisurely along, as is the custom of children the world over. 
The youngest boy, a chubby little chap of six summers, who 
was behind his brothers, suddenly came rolling along in 
front of his brothers, and a moment later the great cat 
sprung over the heads of the two astonished boys, seized 
the little fellow in its mouth, and with a spring vanished 
from sight in the bushes. 

A cry of terror rose from the lips of the now terrified 
boys, that was answered by one of pain, fright, and agony 
from the jungle. The elder brother did not deliberate on 
what todo. He had no weapon other than an empty brandy- 
bottle, in which he had carried milk for their dinner, and with 
this he rushed into the.bushes. He saw his little brother 
lying prostrate, grasping a small tree with both hands, and 
holding on with the desperation of despair, while the 
Cougar, with his fangs luckily embedded only in the child’s 
clothing, was trying to break the deathlike grip with which 
the child held to the tree. With a scream, Walter threw 
himself on the Cougar, beat it over the head with the bottle 
until the latter was shattered into fragments, and then with 
the ragged edges of the neck of the bottle, which he still 
held in his hand, he endeavored to cut out the Cougar’s 


414 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


eyes. At last, the Cougar, with a yell of rage, dropped his 
hold on the child and ran up a tree near at hand; while the 
heroic boy, lifting his brother in his arms, carried him into 
the road, and fell, fainting, upon him. 

The other brother had meantime fled, screaming, up the 
road, and it so happened that two men were chopping wood 
not far away, who, on hearing the screams of the children, 
came running to the rescue, and met the boy in the road. As 
soon as he could, he told them the cause of his cries. Seeing 
the other children lying in the road, they rushed to them, 
and found the little hero senseless, still grasping the neck 
of the broken bottle tightly in his hand. The Cougar’s vic- 
tim was too horrified to speak, but pointed to where the 
savage beast was lying on a limb,in plain view. One of the 
men had a revolver, and with a few shots killed the Cougar. 
Both children were badly scratched and bruised, but soon 
- recovered. 


Another instance in which a Cougar attacked a man in 
daylight, happened but a few years ago. A Swedish sailor 
named Joseph Jorgenson ran away from a British man-of- 
war that-was anchored at Esquimalt, British Columbia, and 
_ found his way through the woods until he rested under the 
domain of the starry flag. Arriving at my father’s farm, on 
the Sumas, he was glad to obtain employment and to enjoy 
the comforts of a ranch home. As there was at that time 
plenty of Government land, and as Joe, like the majority of 
his race, was an industrious, honest fellow, my father 
advised him to homestead an excellent quarter-section of 
land in the near vicinity. 

Joe was elated with the prospect of becoming a land- 
holder and a citizen of the United States, and as soon as the 
requisite papers arrived, set off one morning to clear a spot 
whereon to build his house; but the clearing of that spot 
was interrupted by a Cougar, in a very unceremonious way. 
Joe had scarcely begun to work, and was wielding his spade 
vigorously, when suddenly his arm was seized as in a vise. 
He wheeled instantly, and found that his arm was in the 
jaws of a Cougar. He was a young and powerful man, with 


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pen) ea yf eee ae eT A ee oe ene Pai a 9: Stic 
BO ae te BE Ore Sot as oa iene aoe ah id Delay Pg te 
et ae ee LL ee ee Pe NE pS i os as ako 


: . i mPa ee a ee 
ee eS RE ee ee ee ee Se ee ne 


THE COUGAR. 415 


an intense desire for a long life; so, without any prelimi- 
naries, he dealt his assailant such a kick in the stomach as to 
break its hold on his arm and to lay it prostrate at his feet. 

The Cougar instantly resented this rude treatment. 
Crouching, it sprung at Joe’s throat, but he warded its head 
from his throat with his left arm, while with his right he 
dealt it a Sullivanic blow in the ribs that again prostrated 
it at his side. Quick as a flash, itreturned to the attack and 
seized him by the left hand, driving its fangs through the 
flesh and fearfully lacerating it. It was a fight for life, and 
Joe, with his brawny fists and heavy boots, beat and kicked 
the animal with such force that it released its grip on his 
hand and retreated a short distance. Then it crouched and 
sprung at him again, landing on his breast and knocking 
him heavily against a tree; but again he cuffed and kicked 
it, until it again retreated and crouched for another spring. 

Fortunately, Joe, looking down, saw the spade he had 
been using lying at his feet. Stooping quickly, he grasped 
it, and rose just in time to ward off the Cougar’s spring by 
giving it a thrust with thespade. The brute fell at his feet, 
but instantly rose and seized him by the thigh. Maddened 
with pain, Joe made a gladiatorial thrust at the Cougar’s 
head. The sharp blade of the spade went crashing through 
its skull, and it fell dead at his feet. 

The place where this battle occurred was a mile from my 
father’s house, and we can imagine the feelings of the poor 
fellow, so dreadfully bitten and. scratched, as he reeled 
homeward, the blood streaming from every wound. Hap- 
pily, he was observed when he reached the edge of the 
prairie, and assistance soon reached him. He was conveyed 
to the house, where all possible assistance was rendered him. 
It was many weeks before he recovered, and when he grew 
strong again, he shipped on an American coaster as a sailor, 
saying that he had less fear of the sharks of the ocean than 
of the ‘‘ big kitties’’ of the land. 


Miss Mary Campbell, of York, British Columbia, now 
the wife of John Kelly, of Sumas, Washington, had an 


416 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


adventure with a Cougar that she is not likely to forget. I 
will give the incident in her own words: 

‘*Let me see,’’ she said; ‘‘yes, it was just six years ago 
last February when I was so badly frightened by a Cougar. 
The way it happened was this: One afternoon I started to 
visit the Musselwhite girls, who live six miles from York, 
on the Cariboo road. My pony was a swift one, and I was 
riding along at a fast gallop. I was within two miles of my 
destination, when something sprung out of the bushes and 
landed in the road just at the pony’s head. He reared, the 
saddle turned, and I was, of course, flung on the frozen road, 
so violently that for a moment I was senseless. When 
I became conscious and opened my eyes, I was horrified to. 
see two great green eyes glaring inmy face, to say nothing 
of a horrid row of teeth; for standing directly over me, with 
one heavy paw pressing on my breast, was a big Cougar. 

‘**T lay for a moment terrified; but you know a woman’s 
last resort is to scream, and I did scream, so loudly that it 
seemed to frighten the Cougar, for it instantly sprung to 
one side, and I regained my feet as quickly as possible, but 
I was so terribly frightened that I could not think or move. 
I stood trembling in the road, bewildered and dazed, while 
the terrible monster crouched in front of me, trembling with 
eagerness, its tail lashing from side to side; but it did not 
attempt to spring upon me. It kept its glaring eyes fixed 
intently on my face with a cruel, wicked stare. 

‘‘ Seeing that it did not attempt to spring, I began to walk 
slowly backward. The Cougar did not move then, but kept 
on intently glaring at me. Unluckily, it was between me and 
Musselwhite’s. It was only two miles there, while it was 
four miles home; but I did not dare to attempt to pass it. 
As it did not move until I was quite a distance from it, I 
turned quickly, and ran toward home as fast as I could, and 
ran until I had to pause from exhaustion. But judge of 
my distress when, looking back, I saw the Cougar crouch- 
ing just behind me. I turned and looked at it again until 
I got some distance from it, and until I had recovered my 
breath; then I turned and ran again, but, looking backward, 


THE COUGAR. 417 


I could see the Cougar trotting swiftly after me. I ran 
until ITcould run no longer, and then wheeled and faced the 
Cougar again, which again stopped and crouched in the road. 

‘*T began to take courage, seeing that the animal did not 
attempt to do me injury so long as I was looking at it, and 
so I continued to walk backward. I had come more than a 
mile since the Cougar first made his appearance, and I hoped 
when I got out of the woods into the prairie, which now 
was not more than a mile distant, that the Cougar would 
leave me; so I kept on my retrograde way. When I got 
about a hundred yards away from the Cougar, it rose from 
its recumbent position and came trotting on toward me, 
and when it came within a few feet, crouched again. At 
that time my heart gave a great leap for joy, for on the peb- 
bled road came the sound of the flying footsteps of a horse. 
Looking over my shoulder, I saw it was my pony, ridden 
by a half-breed boy who lived at the farm. But my joy 
was of short duration, for when he saw the Cougar he 
wheeled the pony, and the sound of his footsteps soon 
became faint in the distance. 

** Walking slowly backward, but with fainting heart, I 
reached the edge of the prairie. As soon as the Cougar saw 
the open expanse before it, a change came overit. It grew 
excited. It came rushing toward me, and instead of crouch- 
ing as before, ran past me, and stood in the road before me, 
evidently intending to bar the way and drive me back into 
the woods. I tried to walk around it, but it would keep 
directly in front of me, and seemed determined that I should 
not proceed any farther. It grew bolder every minute, and 
at last came boldly up and seized my dress. I screamed, and 
tore myself away from it, leaving most of my dress-skirt in 
its paws. 

‘*Then came a sight that I hope no other girl may ever 
be compelled to witness, as an experience of her own. The 
brute became maddened, and began jumping quickly around 
me, keeping its eyes intently fixed on mine. At times it 
would stop, lie down, and roll over, playfully clutching at 


the scanty remnants of my dress that it had not already torn 
27 


418 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


off. I then felt that the end was near. I felt that the Cou- 
gar was playing with me, as the cat plays with the mouse, 
and that at any moment, when it tired of tormenting me, I 
would be torn to pieces. A feeling of faintness seized me. 
I tried to take my eyes from the basaltic-green eyes that 
were staring so cruelly into mine, with the triumph of con- 
quering strength and satisfactory possession, but could not. 
A sound as of rushing waters was in my ears; I reeled and 
staggered like a drunken person, and began crying like a 
child; I felt like one must feel when life and light are flut- 
tering away; then I reeled and fell on the margin of the 
prairie. But just at that instant two dark bodies went fly- 
ing past me, there came a loud baying and a deep snarling; 
then again came a clattering of hoofs, and then the ringing 
and almost continuous reports of a Winchester rifle. I 
sprung to my feet and looked toward the Cougar. It was 
struggling in death, and growling and tearing at it were our 
two great hounds, Lead and Jowler. Then someone spoke 
to me; I turned, and there stood father. I fainted again, 
fell in his arms, and knew nothing more for many days, for 
this terrible experience was followed by an attack of brain- 
fever.”’ 


Mr. Charles Harmon, of Mount Vernon, Skagit County, 
Washington, had an experience with a Cougar similar to 
that just described. While engaged in looking for some 
oxen that had strayed away from his logging-camp, he heard 
a crashing in the bushes, and saw a large Cougar a little 
distance from him, standing on alog. He uttered a loud 
yell, thinking he would have the satisfaction of seeing the 
Cougar rushing wildly away from him; but, to his no small 
consternation, it came trotting swiftly toward him. It did 
not attempt to spring upon him, but stood at his side, look- 
ing intently at him. 

About that time he discovered that he had pressing busi- 
ness at the camp, and started down the path that led thither. 
The Cougar, with its easy, swinging step, kept right behind 
him, and frequently would reach up and lick his hand. No 


THE COUGAR. 419 


poet ever described a situation more accurately than did 
Coleridge describe this one when he wrote: 
“Like one that on a lonesome road 

Doth walk in fear and dread, 

And having once turned round, walks on 

And turns no more his head, 

Because he knows a frightful fiend 

Doth close behind him tread.” 

This Cougar acted in the same manner as did the one 
which attacked Miss Campbell, following Harmon right into 
the camp, a distance of two miles, and succeeded in tearing 
most of his clothing off before he reached shelter. When . 
Harmon arrived at the camp, the Cougar crouched near the 
door until it was shot. 


Mr. Cathcart, of Snohomish, Washington, was also at- 
tacked by a Cougar in daylight. He was returning from a 
visit to a neighbor, and was a short distance from his own 
residence, when a Cougar sprung out of the place where he 
had been concealed in a dense thicket, and attempted to 
strike him down, but luckily missed him, and landed in the 
path at his feet. With a large cane that he held in his hand, 
he made such a determined fight for his life that he held the 
Cougar at bay, at the same time Iustily calling for help. 
His faithful dog heard him and came to the rescue, and 
none too soon, for Cathcart was almost exhausted with his 
battle with the animal. On the appearance of the dog, the 
Cougar took to a tree, and was afterward shot. 


A Cougar also attacked Mr. John Potter, of Brownsville, 
British Columbia, while he was riding along the road, on a 
journey to New Westminster. Without any warning, it 
sprung on his horse’s neck. The horse reared, and threw his 
rider, also the Cougar, and when they scrambled to their 
feet, the man and Cougar stared intently at each other, 
until the Cougar with one leap disappeared into the bushes 
at the side of the road. 


The Congars that attacked Miss Campbell and Mr. Har- 
mon were both females. Some old hunters that I have con- 


420 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


versed with claim that at certain periods the female Cougar 
becomes very bold, and loses the instinct of prey in the desire 
for companionship, but that when she finds how helpless an 
unarmed mortal is, she proceeds at once to destroy him. 


The following incident was related to me by Hon. Orange 
Jacobs, ex-delegate to Congress from Washington: 

‘In 1864,’’ said the Judge, ‘‘I was out with a party, 
high up in the Cascade Mountains. Our party consisted of 
nine persons, including myself. Our camp was at the end 
of a long, narrow prairie, which was about a mile from the 
Santiam River, one of the principal eastern tributaries of 
the Willamette. Deer were plentiful, but they kept con- 
cealed in the day-time, in the almost impenetrable brush 
and ferns. One of our party had twice started a fine buck, 
that on each occasion had run across the upper end of the 
prairie toward the river. Meat was getting scarce in camp, 
and that buck we must have. Your humble servant was 
accounted the best running-shot in the party, and was 
accordingly sent to the upper end of the prairie to take a 
stand, while the others beat the brush to start the antlered 
beauty. 

‘¢The plan succeeded, and he bounded across the prairie 
some seven or eight rods from me. I fired, and shot him 
through the thigh. He plunged on, however, through the 
dense brush toward the river. I followed slowly after him, 
clambering over and crawling under logs, believing that I 
would find him dead or dying at the foot of the first em- 
bankment that he descended. I soon came to a dry gully. 
IT approached the brink carefully, and looking over the bank, 
there—not more than twenty feet from me—lay the Deer, 
dead. But immediately over him stood a large male Cou- 
gar, gazing intently in the eye of the Deer. I raised my 
rifle, took a quick aim, fired, and the Cougar fell dead. 
For some unaccountable reason, I did not reload my rifle, 
but quickly slid down the bank, taking my gun with me. I 
straightened out the Cougar’s tail; as he was a very large 
one, I was in the act of pausing to get his length, when, to 


<2 


THE COUGAR. 421 


my astonishment, some fine bark fell on my head and before 
my face. I turned, and on looking up into an overhanging 
ash-tree, there, crouched on a limb, not twenty feet away, 
was the female Cougar. Her hair was all standing, like 


that of a mad cat, and her tail was vibrating from side to 


side. 

‘*T could not run, because the brush and logs were too 
thick. My trusty rifle was empty. I fixed my eyes on the 
maddened brute, raised my powder-horn to my mouth (this 
was before the breech-loading rifles came into general use), 
pulled out the stopper with my teeth, felt for the muzzle of 
the gun, and poured the powder in. When I thought I had 
plenty, I dropped the horn, got a bullet from my pouch, 
and ran it down unpatched. Taking a cap from my vest- 
pocket, I placed it on the nipple. As I raised the gun, she 
doubled over the limb. I fired immediately. As the gun 
cracked, I jumped back, and the animal bounded through 
the air toward me, brushing my shoulder as she went past. 
A man will do a great deal of thinking, under such circum- 
stances, in a very short time. I thought, from the way she 
sprung, that I had missed her; but she fell on the ground, 
and did not attempt to rise again. I was glad to see her 
lying dead, for I must confess that I was a little bit—yes, a 
great deal—frightened. I had my hunting-knife in my 
hand, and I was fully determined, had it come to a hand-to- 


hand encounter, to sell my life as dearly as possible.”’ 


Mr. John Davis, of Snohomish, was awakened one night 
by his hounds barking furiously. From the noise they 
made, he knew that something unusual was in the vicinity; 
so, taking his gun, he ran out, not even stopping to dress 
himself. As soon as the dogs saw him, they made a rush 
at some large animal, which immediately jumped over the 
fence and ran up the hill into the woods. Mr. Davis fol- 
lowed swiftly after, and was soon delighted to hear the 
dogs barking steadily in one place,.as this indicated that 
the game had treed. Hurrying along as fast as the darkness 
and the nature of the ground would permit, he soon reached 


4292 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


the place where the dogs were. They redoubled their noise 
when they saw him approach. Looking into the top of the 
fir-tree up which the dogs were barking, he was able to dis- 
cern the lithe, tawny form of a Cougar stretched out upon 
a limb, intently watching the dogs below. Raising his gun, 
he fired one barrel, aiming at the animal’s shoulder. This 
shot seemed to have no effect; but at the report of the 
second barrel, the Cougar fell from the tree, striking the 
ground at his side. Instantly recovering itself, the Cougar 
crouched and sprung at him, striking him on the shoulder 
with its chest, knocking him down and falling upon him. 
At this critical moment, one of his dogs seized the now 
infuriated brute by a fore leg. Instantly releasing its hold 
on the man, the Cougar caught the dog by the head, and 
one bite was sufficient to lay him struggling in death. 
Davis by this time had regained his feet, and the Cougar, 
dropping the dog, jumped at him again. Leaping aside, he 
struck it with his gun, but with no other effect than to 
break the stock off the barrel. The brute turned and 
sprung at him once more; but, moving quickly to one side, . 
he eluded it, and, as it was passing in the air, threw his left 
arm around its body just behind its fore legs. Then, throw- 
ing his weight upon the animal, he forced it to the ground. 
Instantly raising the gun-barrel in his right hand, he struck 
it a terrific blow on the head, and quickly followed it up 
with another, and then others, until he could strike no 


longer, and the Cougar had ceased to struggle, and lay dead .. 


beneath him. 

Strange to say, with the exception of a few scratches, 
Mr. Davis was uninjured; his greatest loss being his new 
sixty-dollar breech-loader and a suit of under-clothing that 
was torn to shreds in the encounter. Going quietly home, 
he went to bed, and did not even mention the cause of his 
delay to his wife until the next morning. ; 

When he and his neighbors went to the scene of the fray 
and skinned the Cougar, it measured eleven feet. Cougar- 
skins are no curiosity here—-one can be procured at any 
time, almost, for a song; but that Cougar’s skin was cut into 


THE COUGAR. 423 


fragments, every hunter in the vicinity claiming a piece as 
a memento of the strength and courage of a brave man. 


The following account of a Cougar-hunt was related to 
me by Mr. L. L. Bates, an old-time friend and fellow- 
hunter, for whose veracity many residents of Seattle and 
vicinity can vouch: 

‘Tt was in the month of March, 1887,”’ said Mr. Bates, 
‘that I concluded to take a cruise up Charter’s Creek, to 
. look for Beaver-signs. I took my rifle and best tree-dog, 
Spot, thinking I might get some Bears or Fishers while on 
my cruise. I had just left the spruce timber, on tide-land, 
and had gained the fir timber, two miles up from Gray’s 
Harbor, when I came to the carcass of an Elk lying ina 
thicket of salmon-bushes in a bend of the creek. What 
was left of the Elk was carefully covered up with sticks 
and grass. 

‘**Cougars, by gum!’ I thought, out loud. I wanted 
time to take in the situation before alarming the varmints; 
so the first thing was to secure my dog before he gathered 
_ scent of the Cougars. I quietly started on my back track 

to where I had last seen the dog. 

*‘Ah, here he is! ‘Spot, old boy, there’s work ahead for 
you.’ As I said this, I quickly slipped a collar on his neck 
and chained him to a small tree. I took off my coat and 
threw it near him, for I knew he would stay quiet while he 
had something of mine to watch. I then retraced my steps, 
and began a careful examination of the dead Elk and every- 
thing about it. I soon made up my mind that there were 
two full-grown Cougars in the scheme, as there were sev 
eral fresh beds near by, in pairs, and a well-beaten trail 
from the carcass down to the water, where they had sev- 
eral times gone to drink. 

‘*T had two more good dogs at camp, and for a moment 
I considered whether I had better go back and get them, or 
whether to try the fight with old Spot alone. It would 
take me three hours to go for the dogs and get back. While 
I was gone, the Cougars might come around, get my scent, 


424 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


and skip out. In that case the dogs might follow them out 
of my hearing before treeing them, and there would be a 
failure. (You must remember that is a rough, hilly coun- 
try back of Gray’s Harbor, with a great deal of under- 
brush.) To try it with one dog, I knew would be danger- 
ous for him, for a Cougar will sometimes turn on a single 
dog. In that case I would very likely lose my dog. But I> 
finally decided to take the chances, and try it with one dog. 
If I failed, and lost him, I still had the chance left of get- 
ting the other dogs and making another run. 

‘‘T examined what was left of the dead Elk. It had 
been a large cow, heavy with calf. The Cougars had prob- 
ably followed hera long time, watching for a good chance to 
light on her. This chance came when the cow went in on 
this narrow point of land to feed on the salmon-brush. 
The banks of the creek are about eight feet high, and per- 
pendicular. 

‘‘In my mind, I went over again the desperate struggles 
of this noble old cow for life, against big odds; how the 
sneaking Cougars, with their cruel eyes gleaming, had both 
sprung at once from a log near by. Yes, there were their 
claw-marks, plain as day, in that log; and here the bushes 
were trampled down, and the ground covered with blood, 
showing plainly the death-struggles of the poor Elk. These 
two Cougars, I learned by stepping the distance, had 
cleared just twenty-six feet in that fatal leap, from the log 
on which they rested to where the Elk stood when they 
struck her. ‘Yes, Spot, you and I will do our best to bring 
those two blood-thirsty brutes to their death; and it will be 
a great comfort to see them stretched out dead, after they 
have slaughtered such a noble beast as this. And if we 
don’t take home a couple of Cougar-scalps, it will be 
because you don’t put them up a tree soon enough.’ 

‘‘The signs indicated that the Cougars were up the creek 
from where the Elk lay, and I knew they could not be far 
off; for, like an Indian, a Cougar always wants to lie down 
and sleep when he gets his belly full. ‘Now, old dog, if 
you'll keep still till we get near them, they will tree soon; 


THE COUGAR. 425 


but if you bay them on acold trail, they will get a long 
start, and give youalongrun. Then I could not Keep in 
hearing, and we would never get them.’ 

‘*T had now gone down, got my dog, and come back up. 
As I glanced over the evidences of that fearful struggle 
again, I was more than ever anxious to kill those skulking 
Cougars. I tied a string around the dog’s jaws, so that he 
couldn’t give tongue, and held him on the chain until he 
got the trail fresh. All question as to the varmints being 
near was soon removed. It would have done you good to 
see that dog. He rolled, tumbled, and pawed at that string 
on his jaws, worse than a mad cat. ‘I guess this sign’s 
fresh enough,’ I thought, out loud; so I loosed the collar, 
cut the string, and the dog was off as if he had been shot 
out of a gun. And when he went out of sight in the 
bushes, every hair on his back stood straight up like porcu- 
pine-quills. 

‘*T followed with the best speed I could make in the 
brush and over the down timber. As luck would have it, 
the dog never said a word for about three minutes. Then 
there was music. He let out the blamedest string of yells 
Tever heard from one dog in my life. It lasted for only 
about two minutes, when the yelling ceased, and I heard 
the welcome ooh! ooh! ooh! 

‘“** Yes, they’ve treed, sure as I’m alive, and they must 
have gone up the nearest tree to their bed!’ Former experi- 
ence with Cougars had taught me to make as little noise as 
possible when approaching them in a tree, as they are liable 
to jump where there is but one dog, and make off. I crept 
up cautiously, and coming in sight of the hemlock-tree up 
which the dog was barking, saw a large Cougar about fifteen 
feet above the ground. His ears were laid back flat on his 
head, and his long tail was nervously twisting about. 

‘*T didn’t stop to look for the other one, as one Cougar 
at a time is enough forme. Ina moment I had the sights 
of my rifle in line with the butt of his ear, and when I 
pressed the trigger he sprung at least six feet in the air, and 
came down dead. Ashe struck the ground, I saw a yellow 


426 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


flash in the air, and the dead Cougar’s mate left the same 
tree, a little higher up, and with a bold leap struck the 
ground thirty feet away. 

‘*T started the dog on the track of this one, and followed 
up the chase. The Cougar took to the hill-side. I had just 
succeeded in forcing my way through a mass of salmon- 
brush, and had got upon a log that lay in the edge of a fern- 
opening, where I could see a hundred yards up the hill; the 
dog and Cougar had disappeared in the brush on the oppo- 
site side of the opening, when I was dazed at seeing a white- 
and-black object coming through the ferns toward me with 
the velocity of an arrow. ‘What in thunder is it?’ I 
thought, out loud. ‘My dog? My noble dog! Now, brave 
Saxon, hold thy nerve and defend thy friend. A cool head, 
a steady hand, and you may, by good fortune, save your 
dog!’ These thoughts had but just flashed through my 
frenzied brain when I discovered the Cougar vaulting in 
- mid-air. Two more leaps like that, and good-bye old dog! 
As the varmint raised in the air the next time, the report 

of my rifle waked the echoes of the forest. 

‘**Q, you mutton-head ! made a clean miss —danged if 
you didn’t!’ The next bound, and the Cougar fell upon my 
dog. One muffled yell, and all was over with poor Spot! 
The Cougar had crushed his skull with one grasp of his 
mighty jaws. 

‘‘Again my rifle was leveled; but what sirinbe movements 
are these ? The Cougar has straightened out on the ground 
near my dog. What, dead? Yes, dead; and, on examina- 
tion, I found that my bullet had passed through her heart, 
coming out at the fifth rib! And that Cougar killed my dog 
after receiving that shot! She measured eight feet from tip 
of nose to tip of tail, and would have weighed fully one 
hundred and sixty pounds; while the male Cougar—the 
one killed from the tree—was the finest specimen I have 
ever seen, measuring ten feet one inch in length. 

‘*Poor old Spot! He died while retreating from the 

enemy; but I never blamed him. I have never known a 
single dog to stand a rush like that. 


THE COUGAR. 427 


‘“ At the root of a hemlock-tree I dug a shallow grave, 
and covered the poor old dog with earth and rocks; and as 
the summers come and go, may their softest breezes sigh his 

4 requiem.”’ ; 


ee 
‘ 


i i a tn al Beh) Do 


a oe 


| 3 eee es le 


ete eee ee ee 


THE LYNX. 


By J. C. NatrTrass. 


HE Lynx family, though closely resembling the rest 
of the Cat tribe, are distinguished from their feline 
relatives—the Cougar, or Puma, Leopard, Jaguar, 
domestic and Pampas Cat—by their erect, sharply 

pointed, tufted, and penciled ears, and an abbreviated tail. 

Their habits and methods of hunting are similar to those 


of the Cougar. 


There are four varieties of Lynx common to the United 
States, or at least to the Northern Continent, South America 
having none. The Canada Lynx, being the largest and best 
known, will receive the bulk of our attention in this paper. 
Besides the Canada Lynx, we have the Catamount, the 
American Wildcat, and the Red Cat. The entire Lyncean 
group embraces— 


The European LynX......--ssecssevcvescsesesees Lynx Virgatus. 
The Southern, or Pardine Lynx ............ee000. Lyn Pardinus. 
TP OO TOK isis ssa bs a Siveg eine sense tovceases Lynx Caligatus. 
ies CUSROR Ls ac ney days cab bin k chd ee bnbenense es Caracal Melanotis. 
NS OR cs coh ds s4s 04 Vee Rabe cand chsakarereaks Chans Lybicus. 
Re CORRS FIVE eases oie es ink abc aueecsbcerscs Lynx Canadensis, 
The American Wildcats so. i6sddseess sie cecs cetes Lynx Rufus. 

UG Oe CARs a. aie eases bad sah b ewes ares bee ve Lynx Fasciatus. 
ie ALAA. is kg se chine sone Aa eahecnenesenee Lynx Maculatus. 


The European and Canada Lynx closely resemble each 
other. The European is a native of Europe and Asia. Its 
color is dark-gray, tinted with red; has a few large, spotted 
patches on body, and many small blotches on limbs. 

The Southern Lynx is the most beautiful of all the 


. group, having a beautiful, heavy, ruddy-chestnut fur, cov- 


ered with Leopard-like spots. It isa native of Sardinia, 


Portugal, Spain, and other southern countries. 
( 420) 


430 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


The Booted Lynx—so named because of the deep-black 
coloring of the lower part of its legs—is of a reddish-tawny 
hue of deep gray, spotted with black hairs, the legs being 
striped, well up, with brown; there are two brown stripes 
on each side of the face. It is a native of India, Africa, 
Asia, Egypt, and Barbary. 

The Caracal has an extremely short tail. Its color isa 
reddish, pale brown, darker on back than under parts, 
spotted slightly with reddish or black spots; lips and 
chin white; ears black. It is a native of Asia, Africa, 
India, Arabia, Nubia, Egypt, Barbary, the Cape, and has 
avery wide range. The Caracal is an active, lithe animal, 
though not large, seldom if ever exceeding thirty pounds 
in weight. It bears the reputation of being the most 
morose, surly, and untamable of all the group. 

The Chans is darker on the back than sides, being of a 
tawny hue, with black-tipped hairs scattered over the fur, 
forming rings on the tail and stripes on the body and 
limbs; tip of tail is black; the cheeks are white, and a 
white spot is under each eye. It inhabits the shores of the 
Caspian Sea, Persia, India, Asia, and Africa. 

The American Wildcat, though exterminated in many 
sections, was formerly found over nearly all of the North 
American Continent. The tail of the Wildcat is its chief 
- distinguishing feature, being short and rather bushy. It 
stands somewhat higher on its legs, and has a coarser and 
rougher head, than the domestic cat. Climatic changes 
cause a variation in color in different localities, which is 
usually a yellowish or sandy gray; body and limbs striped 
with dark streaks, similar to those of the Tiger, running at 
right-angles with the line of the body and limbs; the 
spine is striped with a dark chain of streaks; the tail has 
a black tip and dark rings. The fur is rather heavy and 
thick. The adult measures two to three feet in length, 
including tail, which is barely half the length of the body. 
Its home is found among caves, clefts of rocks, hollow tree- 
trunks, or even in the nest of a large bird. It brings forth 
from one to five kittens at a litter. 


THE LYNX. . 431 


The Catamount common to California, Arizona, Mexico, 
and Texas is similar to the other varieties, excepting that 
it has longer ears and dark lines along the sides of the 
neck. 

The Red Cat is also similar, and has a very heavy and 
soft coat; the back being of a rich chestnut-brown. 

The Canada Lynx is the largest and heaviest of. all 
American species. It has larger feet and limbs; the neck 
has a pointed ruff on each side; tail short, well covered 
with fur; claws strong and white. 

In some climates the color is almost white, but i is usually 
a dark-gray, tinged with chestnut, the limbs being darker 
than the body. Back and elbow-joints are mottled, blotched 
with large, indistinct blotches of darker color—hairs white 
at extremities; ears tufted, and penciled at the tips with 
black. The feet being large, and limbs powerful and well 
clothed with hair, give the animal a general aspect of 
clumsiness. 

When leaping over the ground, as it does in a series of 
successive bounds, with back arched, the tail so short as to 
be almost indiscernible, it presents altogether a quaint, 
weird appearance, which has been described by many 
hunters and backwoodsmen as laughable and peculiar in the 
extreme—some of them imagining it to resemble a ghost; 
but how a ghost really does look, in life or death, is more 
than I can conjecture, never having seen one. 

The Canada Lynx is not very tenacious of life—a slight 
blow on the back, or base of the skull, with a club, or a shot 
from a small-caliber rifle, being sufficient to readily kill 
him. 

As accuracy in a rifle is the main desideratum, the small- 
bores are preferable as weapons for hunting the Lynx, he 
being an extremely wary and timid animal, and possessing 
the faculty of concealment toa wonderful degree. He will, 
like the Cougar, hide himself on a small limb, flattening 
himself out thereon so that he is almost concealed; and only 
the most vigilant and well-trained eye can discover him. 
His coat closely resembling, in color, his hiding-place, he is 


432 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


frequently passed by, even when searched for by a keen and 
penetrating eye. The surface presented for the sight to 
cover is a small one, and the more accurate the weapon, 
the surer the kill. 

I would recommend a 38-caliber Winchester repeater for 
hunting this animal. The 32-40 is an excellent arm for the 
purpose, so far as it goes, but I dislike a single-shot rifle in 
the woods. Use a repeater, by all means. For sights, I 
prefer either the Winchester or Lyman ivory bead front 
sight, and the open rear notch sight. 

A white front sight has a great advantage over any other 
in heavy and thick timber, where semi-darkness often reigns 
supreme, as the white bead will here loom up conspicuously 
against the fur of the crouching animal. , 

A bead taken, if possible, an inch above and exactly 
between the eyes, will, if the hunter hold right, insure him 
no waste of ammunition, very little noise—and consequent 
scaring of other game—and a handsome pelt, which is 

always sought after and paid liberally for, if properly 
cured. This shot alsoinsures an instantaneous kill, which is 
always a source of great pleasure to the true hunter. If 
such a shot be not presented, a bead taken behind the 
shoulder, well down toward the brisket, or one taken along 
the spine, will be almost equally fatal; but no spot can you 
strike which will cause a more instant death than the first- 
mentioned. 

The Lynx exceeds three feet in length when developed, 
and I have seen specimens that weighed sixty pounds; forty 
pounds, however, is a fair average. He isa splendid swim- 
mer—rapid in his movements—his broad, heavy limbs giving 

him great power and speed in the water. The dog that can 
keep within hailing-distance of this big cat, in the river or 
in the lake, must be a hustler, and no mistake. 

I once saw a good-sized specimen take to the water, in 
Lake Leman, in British Columbia, when hard-pressed by 
our dogs, and swim clear across the lake, which is about a 
mile wide. He speedily left the dogs far behind, and would 
have escaped up the other bank but for a stray bullet which 


¥ 
4% 

f 

y 

Ty 
a 
a 
Fe 
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5B 


~ THE LYNX. 433 


struck him between the ears. The French colonists desig- 
nate him as the Pecsho, or Le Chat. The Indians of the 
Northwest call him the Tenas-Puss-Puss. The home of the 
Lynx is found among the rocks, caves, and hollow tree- 
trunks. The female brings forth from one to four kittens, 
usually in April. 

The principal food of the Lynx is the rabbit, or cotton- 
tail, small birds and animals of all kinds. He affects the 
heads of the grouse in particular. A small Deer is a much- 
cherished dainty. The Cougar contributes unwittingly in 
keeping his cousin’s larder supplied with Deer, sheep, pigs, 
and beef. What the Cougar leaves carefully hidden away 
in a secure place for future reference, the Lynx as carefully 
unearths and feasts upon. 

The Lynx has been known to associate with the domestic 
cat. <A beautiful specimen of the latter lies on my rug at 
the present writing, whose grandfather on the mother’s side 
is believed to have been a full-blood Lynx. The specimen 
in question shows all the markings of her grandfather 
except the tufted and penciled ears and the heavy limbs. 
She is a gentle, affectionate, and intelligent animal. The 
children can tease her with impunity; but game must never 
be allowed near her, for when her teeth close on a game bird, 
her wild instincts are aroused. She is then a fury, and will 
fight to the death. 

While cleaning some grouse one day, several of them 
being laid out on the table, she came purring up, rubbing 
her arched back caressingly against my knee, when she 


_got her eyes on the birds. She seized one in her teeth, and 


started to make off with it to the bushes. I seized her by 
the tail and attempted to take the bird from her, when all 
her wild instincts sprung into instant play. Her fur 
turned the wrong way, her tail bushed out, her sharp, 
white claws were displayed, while her eyes blazed with 
fury. Fighting like a demon, she clung to the grouse 
with her sharp teeth. I became thoroughly indignant, 
lifted her aloft, and banged her down on a log with consid- 


erable force; so heartily, indeed, that the pheasant rolled 
28 


434 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA. 


into the bushes. After the trouble was all over, she calmed 
down into the same old serene and complacent, purring 
pussy, showing no malice—in fact, seeming to forget all 
about the matter. 

Her mother is the property of Mr. Perry, the renowned 
sportsman, and my esteemed friend and hunting companion, 
or ‘‘Sillalicum,’’ as we say here in the Northwest. The 
mother has a short, thick tail, not over three inches long, 
and she is similar to all other house-cats in disposition and 
looks, but is much stronger—in fact, she is a great fighter, 
and thrashes everything in the cat or dog line in the neigh- 
borhood. She is a wonderful ratter, and is withal very shy... 
She will make friends with no one but her master. Some of 
her kittens have the regular short tail of the Lynx, while 
others have a longer one; but none have as long a tail as the 
common house-cat. Their heads also have a wilder and 
coarser look. They are all gray, with stripes on the body 
and limbs; black-tipped and black-ringed tails. In size they 
are a little larger than the ordinary domestic puss. 


Mary Perry, unlike most ladies, was not in the least 
timid. Refined, educated, a popular writer, she was, like 
her brother, a good hunter, and loved the gun. She was 
afraid of no animal that ever skulked in an American forest. 
She knew the habits of all the game in the neighborhood— 
knew where to find a covey of grouse, a flock of mallards, 
a herd of Deer, a Cultus Bear, or a Cougar; and knew how 
to kill them, too. 

While walking with her mother one day, on a visit to a 
neighbor, her hound, Prince, put a Lynx into a tree some 
distance from the trail. Hastening in to where the dog 
stood barking, and bidding her mother stay and watch the 
dog and Lynx, she hastened back to the house, got her 
light, twelve-gauge gun, and hurried back into the woods 
where her mother and the hound were on guard. Lying on 
a limb, blinking, snarling, and spitting at the dog, was the 
ugly creature. Raising her gun to her face, Mary took a 
steady aim and pressed the trigger. The gun flashed, the 


ok Se a ee; ee 
2. le a ci 


THE LYNX. 435 — 


entire charge entered the head of the Lynx, and it tumbled 
to the ground, stone-dead. Prince stood there with danc- 
ing eyes, quivering limbs, and open jaws. He sprung upon 
the limp careass and shook it to his heart’s content. Then 
his mistress carried her trophy home in triumph. 

The Lynx measured three feet and a half in length from 
tip to tip, weighed thirty*eight pounds, and was a beauti- — 
ful specimen. Such a powerful animal, if it were to turn 
its full strength and its natural weapons against the most 
powerful man, could make short work of him, if unarmed. 
Though usually considered harmless, the Lynx is a most 
powerful brute. No dog can match him. He can tear the 
strongest and fiercest dog into shreds in a few seconds, if 
he choose to fight. Nor is he as cowardly as the Cougar; 
many old hunters considering him more to be feared than 
the latter. 


Two young lads, Ernest Holmes and Tom Berry, while 
passing through a neighbor’s ranch with their sheep-dog, 
Rover, had their attention drawn to the dog's antics. 
Rover, after circling through the timber some moments, at 
last settled down to trail some animal which had passed 
some time before. He soon opened up, and barking wildly, 
disappeared along the banks of a creek. The boys followed, 
and the barking at last seeming to locate in a bunch of vine 
maples. They rushed in, and saw a large animal perched 
about five feet from the ground, on a swaying See ; 
within their reach. 

They had no weapons other than their penknives, and 
so, knowing no danger, attacked the Lynx—for such it 
proved to be—with these. They could just reach the brute 
by standing on their tiptoes. First one, then the other 
boy, would reach up and stab the Lynx in the back and 
limbs, bringing the blood in many streams. So heartily 
did they ply their knives, that the beast soon loosened its 
grip on the stunted maple and fell to the ground, half-dead 
from loss of blood. The dog seized him by the throat, and 
soon choked the life out of him. His coat was literally cut 


436 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


to pieces by the boys’ knives. He was a little over two feet 
in length, and weighed twenty-eight pounds. 


A certain ranchman’s hen-roost having been sadly 
depleted by the inroads of some nocturnal visitor for sev- 
eral weeks, his Teutonic blood at last became aroused, and 
he declared that the varmint that had been so unlawfully 
depriving him of his chickens had to go—and that suddenly. 
The ranchman had noticed sundry large and cat-like tracks 
around the roost every morning, and decided that the 
poacher was a Lynx. Knowing the habits and resorts of 
the varmint thoroughly, Hank sat up several nights in sue- 
cession, with his old musket heavily loaded with powder 
and coarse shot; but in vain. The Lynx failed to appear 
while the owner of the poultry was on guard. . Weary with 
his vigils, Hank turned in at dark the next night, leaving 
his hens unprotected. On the following morning a fresh 
trail was discovered, and another hen was missing. Hank 
was thoroughly disgusted, and vowed that he would not 
sleep again till the marauder had been summarily dealt 
with. Calling in several of his neighbors, who also had 
suffered by the depredations of the rascal, a solemn pow- 
wow and council of war was held; it being ultimately 
decided that the entire outfit encamp on his trail till 
death, most cruel and violent, should be meted out to him. 

Several good hunting-dogs being mustered, the outfit 
took up the fresh trail, near Hank’s hen-house. A slight 
flurry of snow had lately fallen, which aided their designs 
materially. The dogs were taken to the tracks, and after 
snuffing around suspiciously, the leader took up the trail, 
and the entire pack followed. They struck up a musical 
shout, each dog in his own individual key; some loud, some 
sharp, some deep, but each doing his or her best. The dogs 
were eagerly followed by the relentless and blood-thirsty 
poultry-owners. 

They crossed the young orchard, plunged into the thick 
timber on the other side, making for the upland and green 
timber, where the dogs apparently lost the trail; but the 


THE LYNX. 437 


old leader soon recovered it, and the wild refrain again 
went forth. Doubling back, they returned to the lake, 
passed along the shore for some three hundred yards, and 
then went into the thick timber again. Then they went 
direct to and across the Canadian boundary-line, and were 
on British soil. Lake Leman was soon reached and left 
behind, the timber growing thicker and denser, the under- 
growth more difficult to penetrate, till even the dogs could 
scarce get through. <A halt was called, and refreshments 
partaken of. A short rest, and again the party started 
forth, with renewed vigor. 

After doubling and running, walking and tumbling— 
after a great deal of profanity had been indulged in—the 
hunters began to fear they would not be able to overtake 
the Lynx before sundown. But at last the dogs stopped 
beneath a tree, howling, yelling, and roaring. The hunters 
knew then that the end was not far off—that the Lynx was 
treed; and hastening into the thick undergrowth where the 
dogs were, they began.to scan the limbs of the tree. There, 
sure enough, was a big brindled fellow, tired, spiritless, and 
half-dead from his long run. He crouched against a limb, 
evidently hoping to escape being seen by the hunters. But 
no, nothing can escape their keen, experienced eyes, and 
the loads from six or seven guns are simultaneously emptied 
into him. He comes down with a thump among the dogs, 
stone-dead, riddled with all kinds of leaden missiles, from 
BB shot to forty-five-caliber bullets. The dogs lit into him 
and shook him till he was a shapeless mass, and then all 
returned home in great glee. 


The Lynx is easily trapped; a rabbit placed in a snare or 
ordinary trap, or attached to the trigger of a spring-gun, will 
often result in the death of one of their number. Finding 
the track of a Lynx in the snow, while shooting ducks on a 
creek, and being desirous of capturing him, I hurried home, 
returning with a strong Fox-trap, having powerful springs 


and sharp, heavy teeth. I set it in the trail, at a place that 
* was much tracked up and tramped upon. There were also 


438 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


particles of fur, showing where the Lynx had evidently tar- 
ried quite often, this being in a secluded, out-of-the-way 
gulch. 

Setting the trap on the ground, I covered it loosely over 
with snow, and hung a dead rabbit above the trap some 
three feet, tying it securely to a vine maple, in such position 
that the Lynx would be compelled to step on the trap to get 
at the rabbit. Returning home, I repaired to the trap again 
toward sundown the following day. On approaching the 
trap, I discovered my victim securely held by a fore foot, 
the leg being much lacerated, as, not relishing his imprison- 
ment, he had tried to pull his big paw bodily therefrom. <A 
blow of a stick on his spine soon ended his sufferings. 

In regions much frequented by Lynx, an inclosure some- 
times is built, to keep out the rancher’s or Indian’s dog, and 
to apprise the hunter of the danger within, and a steel- 
trap, spring-gun, or pitfall prepared, baited with a rabbit, 
grouse, or small bird—the inclosure being visited at inter- 
vals to ascertain results. Many trappers have a series of 
such inclosures and traps, which they visit, one after the 
other, each day. A Bear-trap is set on a run where a Bear 
travels in search of salmon; a Beaver-trap is placed in a 
swamp, slough, or other place where the Beaver makes his 
home and ‘has his dam; one or more traps being set in 
sections of the woods traversed by the Lynx, Wildcat, or 
Cougar. 


While hunting Deer in the Cascade Range, and on our 
second day out, we wounded a fine buck. We followed his 
trail for several hours, blood being liberally sprinkled all 
alongit. When almost up te where we expected to find him, 
certain feline tracks, following the Deer’s, attracted . our 
attention. Believing them to be those made by the Mount- 
ain Lion, we carefully concealed ourselves in the brush, 
listening intently for the faintest sound ahead. Hearing 
nothing, we advanced cautiously and silently through the 
thick timber, great care being taken to step upon no twig 
or broken limb, nor to cause the slightest sound. Our 


THE LYNX. ies 439 


breathing almost suspended, we advanced upon the thicket 
where we expected our game to lay. 

The thicket was finally gained, an opening ahead dis- 
closed—a crawl on hands and knees bringing us to a huge 
tree-trunk. Then another is gained; a close survey ahead, 
and from behind the tree, with rifles carefully held at a 
‘‘ready,’’ a scene met our eyes that we shall never forget. 

There lay our big buck fast breathing his last, the blood 
spurting from a ghastly wound in his- neck, while black, 
clotted blood trickled down from each slender nostril to the 
velvet forest carpet upon which he lay stretched. At his 
side, with sharp, white fangs buried deep in his flesh, was a 
big Gray Lynx. One huge paw rested upon the dying Deer's 
side, the cruel, white claws tearing through hair, flesh, and 
sinew. So busily engaged was the Lynx on the Deer, that 
he stopped to notice nothing else, his only object appearing 
to be to get on the outside of the largest possible amount of 
venison in the shortest possible time. 

From the side he sprung again to the throat. At this 
instant two rifles cracked. The smoke, hanging heavily 
upon the still atmosphere of the forest, for a brief interval 
obscured our view. We rushed forward, with rifles ready, 
and trained upon the spot where lay the Lynx. But no 
muscle quivers; the breath has left his body; he is dead, cut 
down so suddenly his last breath went out with teeth deeply 
set in the Deer’s neck. 


The Lynx is seldom hunted systematically, as are the 
Deer, Elk, Bear, and other game animals, unless it be by 
professional hunters or trappers, who value him for his 
pelt. With them, the usual method is to hunt him with 
dogs trained to follow the trail by scent. In other cases, 
his track is followed through the snow, by the eye, by a 
party of hunters, who, when starting out, must be prepared 
to make a long, hard tramp of many hours, or possibly sev- 
eral days. I have known a party, who wanted a Lynx |. 
badly, to follow the trail of one all day, returning home as 
darkness set in. They returned to the hunt next morning, 


440 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


took up the trail where they left it the night before, and fol- 
lowed it all day, and again the next day, till they finally 
trailed the beast to its lair, treed and shot it. In mount- 
ainous, timbered countries, however, such heroic methods 
are seldom necessary, for if one Tenas-Puss-Puss escapes, 
another is usually soon found, without traveling days or 
weeks. 

The dog most suitable for tas purpose is a Deer-hound,or 
across between a Deer-hound and a Collie. A swift dog 
is not desirable; the main qualifications being, that he will 
trail by scent, give mouth boldly, stay to his work, put 
the varmint up a tree, and keep him there. It is not ex- 
pected that any dog will be required to kill the beast alone; 
so size is not so much an object as scent, voice, and staying 
qualities. The hunter usually wants to do the killing him- 
self. If the dogs have to do that, it will need a good pack 
of them, well trained, who will worry, harass, and attack 
him from all sides, aiming to get him by the throat or spine, 
as his back is easily broken. The dog, in front of those ter- 
rible claws and fangs, must have great sagacity, courage, and 
knowledge of the science of self-defense, looking out ‘for his 
own skin, first, last, and all the time. 


One wild and stormy December night, a trio of hunters, 
tired, cold, and hungry, in camp on the side of one of Mount 
Baker’s foot-hills, sat around the blazing fire, devouring 
their evening meal of venison, bread, and cheese; a pot of 
steaming black coffee hung above the blazing logs. The 
wind whistled, howled, and screamed through the gigantic 
fir-tops on all sides. The forest all about was mantled in 
a shroud of white; the fine snow drifted in through the 
cracks and crannies of the rude log cabin. 

The hunters finished their repast. put away cooking- 
utensils, and those that used the fragrant weed filled their 
pipes, lighting them with a brand from the fire, and settled 
thomselvéa down on blankets and furs, with their feet close 
to the glowing embers. Then came the season of hiyu-wah- 
wah—heap talk—each in turn relating incidents and advent- 


“ONIHOVOd 


| 


s ae Ha Tie 
ees nN | Seorsta 


THE LYNX. _ 441 


ures of camp-life, of mountain-life, of hunts on the great 
plains or the deep forests. 

The night waned, but the screaming wind without howled 
on in dismal, weird, and solemn discord. The snow fell 
faster and faster. Growing cold, the veteran of the party 
rose and piled new logs on the fire, sending a cloud of sparks 
up among the log rafters above. 

‘A bad night, boys! . pity the poor unfortunate who 
may be out in this storm.’ 

The howl of a Mountain Wolf rose above the roar of the 
elements. The scream of-a Panther joined in the discord, 
rendering the night truly hideous. The scent of the game 
that hung about the camp kept the beasts of the mountains 
hovering around; but the glare and smoke from the cabin, 
and the presence of their human foes, prevented them from 
coming too near. 

The attention of the hunters being turned to the Puma, 
Mountain Lion, or Cougar—otherwise known as Panther— 
many thrilling and blood-curdling stories were narrated of 
the sneaking, powerful cat, till the blood of the listeners 
almost ran cold, and more than one anxious eye was uneasily 
turned into a dark corner, or cast into the dar kness without, 
in search for possible prowlers. 

The subject next discussed was the Lynx, and him the 
hunters proposed to hunt on the following day. Several fine 
Cougar-skins already graced the cabin, a splendid Brown 
Bear had been killed, a number of Deer and Mountain 
Sheep were hung safe above the reach of the prowling 
Wolves without, but no Lynx had yet fallen to our score. 
Many big Lynx-tracks had been seen in the snow, but until 
now no special thought had been given them. It was there- 
fore proposed that the two following days be devoted to 
this cowardly but powerful animal. 

A last look to rifles, knives, and cartridge-belts is taken; 
hot coals are raked over the-ground, then the same removed, 
leaving a warm bed of earth, upon which the blankets are 
spread, and three tired but expectant hunters recline their 
weary limbs thereon. With feet to the fire, and heavy 


449 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


blankets piled over them, they sleep, dreaming of thrilling 
encounters with mammoth denizens of the forest and 
mountains, of skillful shots, instant deaths, herds of game, 
and beasts galore. 

And, dreaming, they reck not of the night, nor of the 
howling blizzard without. The night wore on, and as the 
first faint streaks of daylight came stealing down upon the 
cabin amidst the virgin forest, one member of the party 
awakes, and springing to his feet, replenishes the fire, 
which has almost died out, huge logs being placed thereon. 
The coffee-pot, a strip of venison, and a slice of bacon are 
placed above the hot coals. His companions are now on 
foot, and the steaming breakfast is hastily devoured. The 
dogs are fed, cartridge-belts adjusted, and away they go. 

Only one dog—a Cougar-dog—is taken, the others being 
left at camp, greatly to their consternation, and long after 
camp is left can their dismal howlings be heard. The snow 
in all directions is closely scanned. Deer,’Coon, Cougar, — 
Wolf, and Elk tracks alike are passed by. The track of 
the Bear is not now seen; he is taking his winter’s sleep, 
and does not meander forth till spring brings him out, rav- 
enous with hunger, to ravish the lands below. Then the 
skunk-cabbage and the rancher’s hogs will suffer. 

At last a track is discovered by the engineer, the veteran 
of the party, who, undecided, beckons the writer to his side. 
The track is not heavy enough or wide enough for that of a 
Cougar, nor is it the dog-like track of the Wolf, but yet it 
seems too big for that of a Lynx. All three hunters now 
examine the track, which at last they decide to be that of 
a Canada Lynx. 

The dog for to-day’s work is a cross between a Collie and 
a Deer-hound, showing many points of each, but not having 
the long coat of the former, nor the short coat of the latter; 
being, instead, covered with a thick, wiry hair, short and 
_ stiff. He has the head and body of the hound, but the 
color of the Collie. A strong, swift, keen-nosed animal is 
Badger—the hero of many a Cougar, Bear, and’Coon hunt; 
intelligent and docile, but a ravenous feeder, and cross to 


ee ee oe ge pee ee 


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es 


THE LYNX. 443 


strangers. He was not a house-dog, but a dog for big 
game surpassed by few. Alas, poor Badger! He has since 
passed away, ina most miserable manner, having been poi- 
soned by an Indian who claimed he had bitten him. 

Badger’s attention was called to the trail, which he 
sniffed and smelled, and soon took up. With nose to the 
snow, he slowly trails along; then, lifting up his voice in a 
deep bay, he dashes away, hot on the trail of the Lynx. 

We followed him, over fallen tree-trunks covered deep 
with snow, under snow-covered and reclining limbs, through 
thick undergrowths and tangles of all kinds, where one 
touch of the hand, body, or boot was sufficient to shake 
down the soft snow upon coat, cap, and rifle, till the entire 
party are white from head to foot. Now the dog runs 
silent, having missed the trail; but soon his keen nose 
strikes it again, and away he goes, his deep, bass notes 
guiding the hunters aright. 

The storm has abated; the sun coldly peeps through the 
thick foliage and towering tree-tops. Warming up as the 
day grows older, ten thousand diamonds sparkle from limb, 


leaf, and trunk, till the beautiful snow-white covering, glit- 


tering, glinting in the rays of the December sun, dazzles 
the eye. Nature now in her grandest form calls forth 
the wonder and delight of the enthusiastic worshipers a 
her shrine. ; 
But the Lynx is not yet caught, and that, not Nature- 
worship, is the business of to-day; so onward we spring, the 
footstep silent and noiseless as death, no sound breaking the 
stillness but the baying of the dog, the chirp of a squirrel, or 
the whir of a grouse as it starts from under foot, and, straight 
as an arrow, sails onto a limb, and sits there, a big brown 
bird with outstretched neck, stupidly allowing the intruder 
to pass beneath without stirring a feather. The moaning 
of the wind through the tree-tops adds its melody or dis- 
cord, as you may please to term it, to the other slight dis- 
turbances, save which, all is a vast, unbroken solitude. 
The track of the Lynx is plainly outlined before us, deep 
cut into the soft snow. Where an extra jump has been 


444 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


made, the sharp, cruel claws cut into the snow, the heel in 
places being also plainly marked, making an imprint not 
unlike a man’s bare foot—long, and tapering back to the heel. 

Now Badger shows a fresh burst of speed, and we have 
trouble in keeping within hearing of him. The quarry is 
started, and probably the dog has sighted it, for he roars on, . 
heedless of obstacles. Surely, now the Lynx will soon take 
to a tree. At an exclamation from one of the party, all eyes 
are turned in the direction of his gaze. There, upon a bare 
surface, and in an opening in the brush, is seen a Goat-like 
beast, with humped back and tufted ears, taking long 
bounds—an uncouth, ungainly, clumsy gait indeed: 

Badger has seen him, too, and witha tremendous burst of 
speed he passes, like a bolt, before our gaze. Yes, there 
goes the Lynx upa tree. Now Badger is beneath, howling 
at the top of his voice. Although tired unto death, the 
perspiration oozing from every pore, and our limbs ready 
to wilt to the ground, the sight of the quarry, and the 
knowledge that the chase is ended, gives us new strength, 
and we are soon beneath the tree. 

A 50-110 Winchester Express, a 38-caliber Winchester, 
and a 45-60 are leveled at the crouching, trembling, and 
quivering mass of gray fur above. Three reports ring out 
as one, and down comes the big-limbed animal, perforated 
with lead enough to kill anelephant. Badger is allowed to 
shake his enemy a few seconds, and then the limp body is 
taken away from him to save the pelt, which is a very hand- 
some one. We judged him to weigh at least forty-five 
pounds. 

After skinning and fottings up the pelt, we made our 
weary way bask to camp, which we reached about dats 
jaded and worn out, but jubilant at our success. 


The next day we decided to still-hunt another Lynx, 
whose track we had crossed while following our big chap. 
Now, still-hunting the Lynx, in thick timber and over rough 
ground, upon a mountain-side, is an extremely uncertain 
undertaking. 


THE LYNX. 445 


But, nothing daunted, the writer and the engineer took 
up the trail the following morning, while our companion 
remained at camp to nurse a contused ankle, which he had 
sustained while jumping from a huge log the previous day. 
The hurt was painful, but not serious. 

The trail was readily picked up, but, being somewhat 
old, was discarded for a new one which crossed it, and was 
evidently but a few hours old. Though not large, it promised 
good sport, and at least another pelt. This track crossed 
much of the same ground as that of the day previous, but 
went down to the lowland, into the green timber. Having 
reason to believe that the Lynx had lingered, and was not a 
great march ahead, we tramped leisurely on. 

Sundry grouse-feathers bestrewed the snow where he had 
been feeding. Being a skillful fowler, the Lynx is seldom 
at a loss for the staff of life here in the Cascade Range, where 
birds are so abundant. Like a dog, he will scent his game. 
Knowing how to proceed, from long experience and a con- 
stant necessity of hustling for himself, he advances on his 
unsuspecting victim, silently, noiselessly, and concealed, per- 
haps, behind some mound of earth or tree-trunk, he sneaks 
along, with his belly on the ground, till he is as near as he 
can get without flushing the grouse. Strutting upon a log, 
perchance, is the proud bird; every feather ruffled, the 
black feathers around his neck puffed out, he paces majes- 
tically to and fro, ever and anon emitting a slight ‘‘cluck- 
cluck,”’ similar to that produced by moistening the lips, 
holding them together, then separating them with a snap; 
or, if it be in the spring of the year, he drums and booms, 
producing a sound similar to that produced by beating rap- 
idly on an immense bass-drum. 

Or possibly the partridge is quietly feeding, pecking at 
stray morsels of food, unconscious of the treacherous, crawl- 
ing destroyer so nearathand. The bird’s head being turned 
to one side for a second, there is a streak, a flash of fur, and 
the next instant the cruel fangs pierce through feathers, 
flesh, and bone, and the poor bird never knows what struck 
him. 


446 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Even if the grouse is too far off, or the cat has miscalen- 
lated his leap, and the bird takes to his wings, which are of 
great strength, and which often carry him through the 
hunter’s fire unscathed, the Lynx is not yet foiled, nor are 
his resources yet at an end. No aim is truer, no caleulation 
more accurate, no motion swifter, than the spring which is 
now made, as the bird rises from the ground, and is caught 
in mid-air, with a tremendous leap of lightning-like swift- 
ness; and the bird is crushed between jaws of steel. 

The feathers show us that the beast has tarried here; and 
this delay may be fatal to him. Going still slower, we move 
silently along in the fresh-cut tracks. Here he has turned; 
now he has doubled back. We must be careful, or we will 
lose him in this thick jungle. 

‘“Very likely he is in there,’’ we think, as we lift one 
foot ahead of the other—one eye on the trail, the other 
examining every limb and trunk ahead of us, and on each 
side. 

‘*No, he can’t be in here.”’ 

The tracks continue through; now his jumps are longer; 
he is fairly humping himself, no doubt having pressing 
business on hand in some other county. We don’t believe 
he has heard or seen us, for we have the wind and have come 
very cautiously and quietly. -No sound can he have heard. 
Now the trail leads us into an almost impenetrable jungle, 
along a ravine. A wind-fall blocks our further progress; 
trees of all sizes are piled above each other, till it seems an 
impossibility for even a cat to enter. ; 

A council of war is held, in whispered accents. The 
area of the wind-fall is not great, so we decide to encircle 
it, hoping to put puss out if hidden therein. The engineer 
climbs down into the rugged, rocky, shelving mountain- 
gulch, carefully watching for the trail. The writer circles 
in the opposite direction, which proves less precipitous; 
also watches the snow-covered ground for the trail. 

A low whistle from the engineer hastens his footsteps. 
We are soon together again. The veteran silently points a 
finger up the craggy sides of the gulch, where a ledge of 


WO, ae 


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THE LYNX. 447 


rock projects almost perpendicularly above. The foot- 
prints of the Lynx, or some other large animal, lead 
directly to it, and above it there are no tracks. 

The veteran’s face, suffused with smiles, is benignantly 
turned upon me. 

‘«There’s our varmint; but how will we get there?—that’s 
the question.”’ 

The sides of the ravine are closely scanned for a scaling- 
point, but none presents itself which will admit of speedy 
travel. The only course left open is to attempt the ascent, 
which appears extremely hazardous. Boulders and rocks, 
big as the Chicago Court-house, have to be scaled, whose 
sides tower straight up. Then, again, loose rocks of all 
sizes present themselves, a touch only being required to 
hurl them below. Still, having come so far for that Lynx, 
we can not go back now, but must have him, rocks or no 
rocks. So, strapping our rifles to our backs, we climb up 
till we get to the most prominent obstruction, a jutting 
ledge, which it appears almost impossible to surmount. <A 
bank of soft earth is discovered to the right of it, in which 
our hunting-knives soon make holes for our hands and feet. 
A tedious, risky climb brings us on the ledge above, which 
is covered with two feet of snow, where the Lynx-track is 
again recovered. A fissure in the rock next receives our 
attention. ; 

‘* Tf there is no other entrance to this cave, we’ve got you, 
old gray-back!’’ ejaculates the engineer, as we thrust our 
rifles into the opening, and endeavor to pierce the gloom 
within. The darkness is too thick, and at first nothing is 
to be seen. Presently, however, the eye becomes accus- 
tomed to the gloom, and a deep fissure is found which will 
admit us both. Stooping low, we advance slowly into the 
darkness. A match is struck, and there, huddled up on a 
ledge of rock, are two dark bodies. The match flickers and 
dies. Another is struck, and a pair of rifles thrust in the 
direction of the two bodies; a pair of large, shining eyes 
appear on each side of the sight on the business-end of the 
rifle; two reports thunder together in the cramped quarters. 


448 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Darkness, thick and impenetrable, follows. _We hear 
writhing, struggling, and a smothered scream in the direc- 
tion of one of the bodies, and both our rifles are again dis- 
charged in the direction of the sound; then all is still. 
Another match is now struck; but the smoke hangs so 
thick and black that we are unable to see through it. 

Returning to the mouth of the cave, an oiled rag and a 
piece of tarred rope are discovered in a pocket. The rag 
and rope are twisted together and set on fire, and the burn- 
ing mass thrown far into the cave, bringing brightness 
and light to every corner of it. We return, and find the 
two animals dead; two balls having passed through one of 
them, while the death of the other had been instant as the 
result of one shot. , 

Both are drawn out to the daylight, and examined with 
great interest. One was the largest Lynx we had ever seen, 
and would have weighed, as nearly as we could judge, about 
fifty pounds. He was three feet long, exclusive of the tail. 
The other Lynx was much smaller, and a female, measur- 
ing somewhat under thirty inches, and weighing about 
half as much as the male. Securing the pelts,-we retraced - 
our steps. This ended the most exciting Lynx-chase we 
ever had, and the most prolific of results. 

When not more than half-way back to camp, night over- 
took us, and we lost our way in the darkness. The spec- 
tacle of a pair of bosom friends, old hunters, lost on a prai- 
rie, or even in most forests, conjures up no feelings of horror 
in the mind of the reader. To be lost in such a forest and on 
such mountains as these, where the snow lies from two to 
five feet deep; the smallest tree three feet in thickness; the 
darkness so intense that you can cut it with a knife; the 
only sounds being the sobbing and moaning of the trees, 
the distant howl of the Mountain Wolf—a savage, cold- 
blooded, cruel beast—or the scream of the Mountain Lion, 
the occasional ‘‘ tu-hoot, tu-hoot, tu-tu-hoot’’ of the screech- 
owl—is not pleasant, to say the least. Add to these the 
knowledge that the first huge tree-trunk you come to may 
harbor beneath its roots, entombed in a bed of snow, a huge 


Fe Se ee ET eee Oe 


TEN by are Soe ee ee eee 


THE LYNX. 449 


Cultus Bear, sleeping his long hibernal sleep, but needing 
only a rap or a kick on the trunk of the tree to wake him 
up and turn him out into the darkness, ‘‘madder’n a nest 
of hornets,’ and you can readily imagine that we were 
not exactly comfortable. We would far rather have been 
tucked up in our beds at home, or be stretched out in 
camp with a huge log fire hissing and crackling before us. 
No, dear reader, I advise you never to get lost in the piny 
forests of British Columbia, or in our Northwest mount- 
ain ranges. You'll feel lonesome and homesick if you do. 

But lost we were, and we knew that no amount of repin- 
ing would enable us to find ourselves. After an immense 
amount of conjecturing and figuring as to where we were, 
we decided that it was useless to try to reach camp that 
night, and that our only means of living through it was to 
build a big fire and keep it up. We ransacked the neigh- 
borhood for dry limbs, dry leaves—in fact, anything dry; 
but alas! dry things were not to be found. The soft, yield- 
ing snow encased all in a mantle of perpetual whiteness 
and wetness. 

Strips were cut from our clothing, and matches pulled, 
and scratched across any dry spot that we could find; but 
they soon burned out. The thought of remaining out this 
cold, windy night without a fire became almost maddening. 

One, two, three, a dozen shots were fired, in rapid suc- 
cession, from our rifles. Hopeless hope! No hunter is 
nearer than our camp, and the solitary occupant of that is 
far beyond the sound of our weapons. How gladly would 
he find us, if only he knew where we were! It being 
impossible to start a fire, and the cold becoming too great 
for us to stand idle much longer, we were compelled to 
resume our march. — 

We went floundering through snow and brush, scarcely 
making any headway in the intense darkness. We tum- 
bled, rolled, and wandered aimlessly on, hour after hour, 
till, almost sinking down through sheer weariness, we were 
in utter despair. At intervals we fired our rifles, in hopes 


of reaching the ear of some distant camp. 
29 


450 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


At last we fancy we hear a shot. Then another. Yes, 
there are three more. Weare saved! Blindly groping our 
way in the direction of the welcome sounds, we fire the last 
shots remaining in our belts, and keep yelling at the top of 
our voices. At last we hear the answering shouts, and soon 
see the torch, carried by the party who so opportunely had 
heard our shots. 

Weare soon among them; they are Lummi Indians. Lead- 
ing us to their camp, we are soon seated by a blazing fire. 
For several minutes we absorb the warmth, too glad to 
utter a sound. Though no questions are asked by our res- 
cuers, many questioning glances are cast in our direction. 
Finally, having got our limbs and tongues thawed out, 
the engineer proceeded to enlighten the Indians, in Chi- 
nook, as to the reason of our strange appearance amongst 
them. They set before us a piece of venison and a bowl of 
corn-mush, which soon disappeared; then the pipe was 
passed, and they all settled down again into gloomy silence. 

A motley group were they—some young, some old; dark- 
skinned, black-haired, broad-faced, heavy-limbed; short of 
stature, but broad and long bodied, with short legs, reced- 
ing brows, and prominent cheek and skull bones. 

They sat cross-legged, gazing into the glowing coals, pay- 
ing no further attention tous. They were a hunting-party 
who were out after the Big Horns, the Deer, Elk, Cougar, 
Bear, and’Coons. Their only weapons were the ancient 
pieces of iron, with the wooden handles, such as are bar- 
tered by the Hudson's Bay Company in exchange for furs. 
They are, however, carefully cleaned every night, oiled, and 
put away in the woolen or buckskin sack, for further use 
the following day. 

The Puget Sound Indian is not, asa rule, a good shot, 
but understands the habits of all game, and wild animals. 
He is very saving of his ammunition, and wastes no powder 
or balls on uncertainties. He must be close to his quarry 
before his ancient piece of ordnance is discharged. Snaking 
himself through the woods on all fours, traveling, perhaps, 
not more than a hundred yards in an hour, he is a 


‘THE LYNX. 451 


relentless foe to the Deer or Elk. He is dirty and filthy in 
his habits, subsisting principally on smoked salmon and salt 
meat—living a life several degrees below that of a beast. 

The glowing accounts of the noble red man which we 
have read in our youth, and the exalted opinion we have 
held of his manly attributes, brave deeds, and daring mien, 
are all dispelled upon being brought face to face with the 
filthy reality. Gratitude or generosity are unknown ele- 
ments in his make-up. There are many powerful, hardy’ 
specimens of manhood among them, but this is attributable 
to their out-door life, and wanderings in the forests and 
mountains. Shrewdness and cunning they possess in a 
marked degree, in all that pertains to their own interests. 
Patience, also, is one of their leading characteristics. 

A night in an Indian hovel under ordinary circumstances 
would be unendurable, but on the occasion I have described 
anything was preferable to the midnight howlings of the 
woods. We passed the night as best we could among our 
red brethren, but were up and off at the first streak of day- 
light in the morning. Our homeward way was soon dis- 
covered in the brightness of the sun, and a long, hard tramp 
brought us again to our cabin, where we found our comrade 
in a great state of fear, not knowing what had happened 
to us. : 


eer 


we ae a ee = 


a ee 


Pee eas eee pre SO a 


THE WOLF. 


By Wriuram Prirtman Lett. 


Hark to that minstrelsy, ringing and clear! 

*Tis the chorus of death on the trail of the Deer! 

The fierce forest Blood-hounds are gathering in might; 
Their echoing yells wake the silence of night, 

As relentiess they stretch over mountain and plain, 
The blood of their fast-speeding victim to drain. 

They close—he stands proudly one moment at bay; 
*Tis his last—they are on him to ravage and slay! 


HE Wolf belongs to the genus Canis, or Canine 
family. According to Audubon and Bachman’s 

& ‘‘Quadrupeds of America,’’ the Wolf has six inci- 
sors in the upper and six in the lower jaw, one 

canine tooth in each jaw, and six molars above and six 
below. The three first teeth in the upper jaw and the four 
in the lower jaw are trenchant and small, and are also 
called false molars. The great carnivorous tooth above is 
bicuspid, with a small tubercle on the inner side; that below 
has the posterior lobe altogether tubercular. There are two 
tuberculous teeth behind each of the great carnivorous 
teeth. The muzzle of the Wolf is elongate; the tongue 
soft; the ears erect, but sometimes pendulous in the domes- 
tic varieties. The fore feet are pentadactylous, or five-toed; 
the hind feet, tetradactylous, or four-toed; the teats are 


both inguinal and ventral. 


The Gray Wolf of Canada—. e., the large Wolf of all 
Northern America—is about five feet six inches in length, 
from the point of the nose to extreme end of the tail; 
ordinarily about twenty-six inches high at the shoulder, 
larger ones, however, measuring twenty-eight inches in 
height and weighing from seventy to one hundred pounds. 


I give the latter measurement and height from the bodies 
( 453 ) 


454 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. | 


of Wolves that I have killed, and I am confident that I am 
under rather than over the actual size and height of the 
Gray Wolf. 

There are several varieties of American Wolves, differ- 
ing so much from each other, chiefly in color, as to lead some 
naturalists to the conclusion that they are different in spe- 
' cies, and that they do hot originate from the same primeval 
stock. They are all about the same size, and band together 
in the same pack; the white, gray, and red varieties being 
specifically identical. 

In size and other peculiarities, all the larger Wolves dif- 
fer from the Prairie Wolf and the Coyote; both of these 
smaller varieties burrow in the earth, are much less savage 
and destructive, and much more docile and affectionate in 
a state of domestication, than are those of any variety of 
the larger species. According to the best zodlogical author- 
ities, all the larger Wolves are dwellers upon the surface 
of the earth—sleeping in the open air, or making their dens 
in caves or crevices of rocks. 

The most valuable skins are obtained from the White 
Arctic Wolf; the next, in thickness of fur and costliness, 
is the skin of the Gray Wolf of Northern America; and so 
on down to the pelt of the black variety, which, being a 
southern animal, ranging in a warmer habitat, carries the 
thinnest and coarsest coat of the entire genus, and conse- 
quently is of the least value. 

The Gray Wolf, the variety most common in Canada, 
bears a very striking resemblance to the European Wolf. 
There are, however, differences between them, which at one 
time appeared to be distinct and permanent. Naturalists 
of late years appear to be unanimous in the conclusion that 
the larger Wolves of the Old and New World all belong to 
one species. The American Wolf, notably the Canadian 
variety, is at least equal in size to that of any other 
country. 

Billings tells us that ‘‘the body of the American Wolf 
is long and gaunt; muzzle elongated, and somewhat thicker 
than that of the Pyrenean Wolf; head thick, nose long, 


eee ak ee ye ee 


ee ee en a en a eee 


THE WOLF. 458 


ears erect and conical, as is the case with all true Wolves; 
pupil of the eye circular; tail straight—the animal does 
not carry it curled over his back, like a dog.”’ 

To this excellent description, I may add that the eye of 
the American Wolf is of a light greenish color; its expres- 
sion is sneaking and sinister, intermingled with an aspect 
of cunning similar to, although surpassing in force, the 
yellow eye of the Fox. As stated above, the tail of the 
Wolf is bushy; but it is neither so long nor so elegantly 
rounded and heavy as that of a Fox. 

At one time, the Gray Wolf was found all over the Con- 
tinent of Araovbes: as far south as the Gulf of Mexico. It 
is still to be met with in considerable numbers on the great 
plains of the West, on the slopes of the Rocky Mountains, 
and in more or less abundance, according to location, 
in all the remote and sparsely settled portions of Canada, 
Newfoundland, and Cape Breton. In voice, form, generic 
character, and manner of hunting their prey, all the varie- 
ties of the large North American Wolves are essentially 
similar. 

In the early history of Canada and the United States, 
not less than in the valley of the Ottawa, Wolves were 
dangerously abundant. In those old times, in all new set- 
tlements, sheep—when a farmer was fortunate enough to 
own any—had to be penned up carefully every night, other- 
wise wool would certainly be flying before morning. 

It was not alone that in one of those nocturnal raids many 
sheep were devoured—that was not the worst feature of 
the transaction. A couple of those blood-thirsty maraud- 
ers, in one night would kill fifteen or twenty sheep, simply 
tearing open their throats without otherwise mutilating 
their carcasses. 

After such a catastrophe, cheap mutton was easily pro- 
curable; frequently, too, at a season of the year when the 
old pioneers were obliged to live without meat of any kind, 
fresh or salt, for months at a time. For the information 
of those unacquainted with the hardships and privations of 
the men who cut down the wilderness and cleared the land, — 


456 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


Imay say that this enforced economical fast usually did 
not terminate until the pigs were killed, in December. 

Apart from the information which I have derived from 
the authentic records of natural history, I have had a 
somewhat intimate personal acquaintance with this fero- 
cious bandit of the wilderness, through practical observa- 
tion, as well as by the agency of steel-traps. 

Now, it is a generally receivel opinion—like many other 
popular fallacies—that the Fox surpasses all other animals 
in cunning. Ihave had what I consider good and sufficient 
reason to doubt the correctness of this ancient conclusion. 
I think anyone who tries to catch a Wolf in a steel-trap 
will agree with me, that the Wolf is a much more cunning 
animal than the Fox. 

In my younger days, I trapped many Wlics and Foxes, 
as well as fishers, minks, and muskrats. I used no pun- 
gent oils or other extraneous attractions to wile them, but 
simply matched my own intelligence against their instinet- 
ive cunning; and in the case of the Wolf, I have often, for 
many successive days, found myself completely cireum- 
vented. 

In proof of the persistent cunning of the Wolf, I may 
relate a circumstance of some weight. While trapping, in 
the month of December, 1840, I fastened a piece of liver 
upon the knotty spike of a hemlock-tree, about three feet 
from the ground, and set a well-concealed trap under it. 
The Wolves frequented the spot every night; and although 
they tramped a circle in the snow six feet from the tree, 
or twelve feet in diameter, their dread of the trap pre- 
vented them from touching the meat, notwithstanding the 
fact that it remained in its position until the first day of 
April. 

A short distance from the same spot, during the same 
winter, I caught three Wolves, twenty-seven Foxes, three 
fishers, and one marten. I experienced more difficulty in 
capturing the Wolves than all the others put together. 
I took the Wolves in the following manner: I deposited a 
quantity of pigs’ livers and other offal in the center of a 


THE WOLF. 457 


dense cedar-swamp, near the present site of the Carp Vil- 
lage, in the Township of Huntly. I had heard the Wolves 
howling after Deer on several occasions previously; and I 
was also aware that they had killed a number of sheep and 
a few young cattle in the immediate vicinity. 

The Wolves soon scented the bait, and gathered around 
it—as I frequently had the pleasure of listening to their 
inimitable music in the swamp. I visited the spot three 
times in each week, always stepping in the same tracks 
going and returning, from and back to the main traveled 
road. I found that, during three weeks, they had not vent- 
ured nearer than about six or eight feet of the bait, and 
that up to that point the snow all around it was beaten 
down by their tracks. 

At the beginning of the fourth week, they attacked and 
devoured the greater part of the offal. I then renewed the 
bait, and set a trap in front of it where they had com- 
menced eating. Iwas particular, after the trap was placed, 
in leaving the surface of the snow exactly in the same con- 
dition as I found it. Next morning I found the springs of 
the trap bare; the snow had been scratched away, and the 
bait had been eaten on the other side. I then set another 
trap on the opposite side, and next morning found both 
traps bare. I was somewhat puzzled, but I determined to 
persevere. I then set both traps in such a manner that, 
should the Wolves attempt the scratching trick again, the 
first part of the traps that could possibly be touched would 
be the pan. They came that night, and one remained there; 
for, to my great satisfaction, I found him, in the morning, 
fast in one of the traps. He was a fine, large specimen, 
twenty-eight inches in height at the shoulder, and corres- 
pondingly long-bodied and bulky. His weight must have 
been at least eighty pounds, or perhaps more. 

As it has fortunately turned out, for the purposes of 
this sketch, I put Mr. Lupus through a somewhat critical 
examination. I poked him up smartly, and experimented 
upon him, with the view of learning something which I did 
not then know about the amiable members of his interesting’ 


458 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


race. I endeavored to make him give tongue, but failed. 
Like a hound without a scent, he was silent. I could not 
induce him to utter a sound; nor did he attempt either to 
snarl or growl. Inoticed that when I stepped off a few paces, 
at each step he raised his body until standing at his full 
height. At each step as lapproached him again, he lowered 
himself gradually until flat on the ground, with his head 
between his paws, in which position he remained as long as 
I stood beside him. He seemed exceedingly shy and timor- 
ous, but made no attempt to escape; while he was far too 
cunning to display any ferocity. An otter, a fisher, or a 
marten would have snarled, growled, and fought viciously 
under similar conditions. : 

I feel convinced that with a dog-collar and chain, after 
freeing him from the trap, I could without difficulty have 
led him home. I put this idea to the test in the following 
manner: For the purpose of fastening the trap, I cut down a 
balsam sapling, about three inches in diameter, the root end 
of which I cut off square. Into this I drove a staple, to 
which I locked the chain of the trap with a small padlock. 
I then planted the tree precisely in the position in which it 
grew, and where the Wolves had been in the habit of seeing 
it, night after night, for weeks. 

When I had completed my zoological experiments, never 
then expecting to tell my readers anything about them, I 
unlocked the trap, and walked quietly off toward home. 
The Wolf got up and followed me, without any resistance, 
for about a quarter of a mile, when I accidentally tripped 
over a large pine-root and fell. Had I not known something 

about the history and character of my companion, there 
might then and there have occurred a tragedy. The instant 
I fell, and before I attempted to rise, I turned my head 
quickly and looked my prisoner straight in the eye. I 
found him with eyes flashing and his whole body gathered 
for a spring. The moment I caught his eye, he cowered 
before my gaze. Had I not been prompt, it is quite possible 
that my present story might never have been told. How- 
ever, I was young, strong, and active then, and the reader 


THE WOLF. 459 


“ may rest assured that I could not have been silenced with- 
out a determined and sanguinary struggle. Long before 
this, I had learned that it was dangerous to fall in the bee 
ence of even a domesticated Wolf. _ 

I need scarcely say that I did not trouble my Stable: 
companion to follow me any farther, lest I might get 
another fall. With one blow of a stick which I usually 
carried for the purpose, I laid him out ready for skinning; 
as doubtless, in his time, he had treated many a beautiful 
Deer prior to devouring it. 

As I have before remarked, the three Wolves which I 
had killed formed part of a pack that, during a few weeks 
before their tragical departure to the happy hunting- 
grounds, had committed many serious depredations. I put 
the succeeding two, each of which was equal in size to the 
first one, through a similar investigating process, but failed 
to elicit anything new. Ihad frequently heard the pack in 
full ery, at night; and although, if heard close at hand, the 
sound might have proved terrifying to persons not gifted 
with an ear capable of appreciating Nature’s magnificent 
harmonies, so far as lama judge of music, the moonlight 
concert of those Wolves seemed to me to be the ne plus 
ultra of forest harmony. 

The Madawaska River, which was once, so far as unri- 
valed natural beauty could make it so, the rushing, foaming 
queen of Ottawa’s peerless tributaries, has along its tur- 
bulent course many rapids and chutes of wondrous grand- 
eur and beauty. One of those chutes, about one hundred 
miles from the City of Ottawa, is called the Wolf Port- 
age. It was so named on account of the Wolves chasing 
Deer into the water at that point during winter. The 
hunted Deer were in the habit of rushing into the rapids to 
escape the fangs of their sanguinary pursuers. In catching 
the Deer at the Wolf Portage, the Wolves displayed much 
cunning. When a Deer took to water at the head, it was 
quickly carried over the rough chute and down the rapids 
into the gradually narrowing, ice-inclosed glade, or channel, 
at the foot. Just at the spot where the current drove 


460 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


it against the ice, under which it would immediately be 
whirled, a number of the Wolves stood on the ice, and the 
instant the Deer touched its edge, it was seized by the 
fierce and hungry animals, dragged out upon the ice, and 
devoured. In the early lumbering-times upon the Mada- 
waska, the skeletons of Deer could always be seen, in win- 
ter, lying on the ice at the foot of the Wolf Portage. 

So numerous were the Wolves on the Madawaska, that, 
during the years 1840 and 1841, the Deer were driven com- 
pletely out of the large section of country lying between 
the High Falls and Keminiskeek Lake—a distance of sixty 
miles. In 1844 the Deer began gradually to reappear; and 
when they returned in force to their old haunts, the Wolves 
followed them, hunting them back to their old habitat, 
where for years they have been comparatively abundant. © 

The old Stony Swamp, on the Richmond road, in the 
Township of Nepean, twelve miles from Ottawa, was at. 
one time much infested by Wolves, chiefly on account of 
its having been a famous fastness for Deer. The Wolves 
of the Stony Swamp did considerable damage amongst the 
flocks in the neighborhood. 

In connection with this old road, I remember an incident 
which took place there in the year 1830. In that early 
period in the history of the County of Carleton, oxen 
were chiefly used for all purposes of travel and draught by 
the farmers, simply because they had no horses. Farm 
produce, such as hay, oats, wheat, corn, and potatoes, were 
then hauled to Bytown market on ox-sleighs; and then, as 
now, the journey was partly performed in the night. 

One clear, moonlight night, a farmer from the westerly 
part of Nepean was driving his heavily laden oxen along 
the lonely windings of the road through the Stony 
Swamp. The season was winter. He had a small dog 
with him, which was running along a short distance in 
front of the team. Suddenly, he heard a piteous howl 
from the dog, and looking in the direction of the sound, 
saw an enormous Wolf darting away through the trees with 
the struggling dog in his mouth. 


aE ee eT ee 


THE WOLF. 461 


During the first few years after the early settlement of 
Hull, Wolves were numerous and destructive in the neigh- 
borhood. They had killed many sheep, and had, also, very 
much disturbed the minds of timid people by their nightly 
howlings. Something decisive had to be done to abate the 
nuisance. A hunter set a trap, and succeeded in capturing 
one of the offenders. He muzzled him, and skinned part of 
his head and sides, and then fastened a broad, red collar, 
to which was attached a bell, around his neck. The Wolf 
was then liberated; and, according to the story, Wolves 
became scarce around Hull, and remained so for many 
years. | 
In October, 1839, when the trees, the stately sentinels of 
earth, seemed to wear the livery of heaven, I was out, one 
morning, duck-shooting. The time was the interval of twi- 
light just preceding the dawn. Suddenly, I heard the voices 
of a large pack of Wolves in full cry after a Deer. The 
River Goodwood, upon the bank of which I stood, is about 
forty yards wide. The Wolves were running in thick 
cover, a short distance from the shore, on the opposite side. 
The moment was an éxciting one, but I have no recollection’ 
of having been frightened in the least. I stood close to the 
edge of the water, ready to tackle them with a single- 
barreled muzzle-loader charged with No. 3 shot, and regret- 
ted that they did not show themselves. The Deer and its 
pursuers passed rapidly on through the thick undergrowth; 
and shortly afterward the Wolves caught the Deer, as indi- 
cated by the ceasing of their howls. Clear daylight then 
appeared; and, if I remember correctly, ten wild ducks con- 
stituted the result of my morning’s tramp before breakfast. 
I had no dog with me, and consequently had to swim after 
every one of them. 

On various occasions, in many a hunt since the occur- 
rence referred to, I have listened to the matchless melody 
of the hounds in full cry upon the steaming trail of the 
Deer. I need scarcely tell the sportsman who has been 
there, how far such a chorus surpasses the highest and 
most scientific effort of a full cornet-band. Nevertheless, 


462 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


such a wild, weird, clear-sounding, musical performance as 
that with which I was favored on the morning in question, 
I have never since heard. 

The ‘‘angry growl”’ attributed to the Wolf by the nov- 
elist and the literary story-teller—who possibly never saw 
or heard one, and knows, perhaps, as little, either practi- 
cally or theoretically, about the animal as the generality of 
ordinary writers do about the correct mode of writing the 
Tipperary idiom—is just as far from the natural habit 
of the Wolf as is its capacity for playing the Highland 
bagpipe. 

Talking of the bagpipe, I once read an account of a 
benighted piper in an American forest who was surrounded 
by Wolves, and, as a last resort, he struck up ‘‘ The Camp- 
bells are Coming,’’ and the result was that the Wolves 
took flight as if pursued by a prairie-fire. Neither Lion, 
Tiger, Wolf, Jaguar, or Grizzly Bear could face, for one 
minute, the charge of a Highland piper in full blast with 
the pibroch. 

Personally, if accompanied by two thorough-bred Bull- 

‘terriers of good size, and armed with a Winchester repeat- 
ing-rifle, I should be delighted at any time, in daylight, to 
pay my respects to six of the largest Wolves in America. 

About twelve years ago, the hunting-party to which I 
have the honor to belong was encamped on the bank of 
Bear Brook, about twelve miles from Ottawa. It was during 
a very cold time, in the month of December—a fact which I 
distinctly remember, in consequence of having to cut a large 
supply of birch stove-wood to keep the tent warm. 

During our stay in camp, on one occasion, about mid- 
night, we were awakened by the howling of Wolves near at 
hand, accompanied by a noise like that made by a large 
animal jumping through the snow. Rifles were grasped, but 
the noise suddenly ceased, and all again became still. By 
the tracks found in the snow, next morning, we learned that 
a large buck had run within less than twenty feet of the 
back of our tent, and had then turned aside. Upon follow- 
ing the tracks of the Deer a short distance, the foot-prints 


THE WOLF. 463 


of the Wolves were discovered. We did not follow the trail 
far; had we done so, we should doubtless, sooner or later, 
have found the mangled remains of the Deer. Had the 
buck given one more jump from the spot where his tracks 
appeared at the back of the tent, we should have had an 
immediate row of more than ordinary interest and excite- 
ment. I have often regretted that the Deer and the Wolves 
did not land amongst us. In that case, I could have given 
you a true story eclipsing the most florid narrative of the 
most ingenious and accomplished newspaper reporter of the 
present day. 

Wolves were quite numerous in the Township of Glou- 
cester, adjacent to the City of Ottawa, up to a few years 
ago; and doubtless there are many still, in the solitudes of 
the vast tamarack and cedar swamps still existing within 
less than twenty-five miles of the City of Ottawa. : 

In December, 1868, Doctor Bell, of New Edinburgh, was 
driving through the long swamp below Eastman’s Springs. 
At that time there were many Wolves within even ten miles 
of the City of Ottawa. While jogging along at an ordinary 
rate, the Doctor’s horse suddenly became restive, pricked 
up his ears in a startled manner; and stood still. Just then 
a. Deer crossed the road a few yards in front of the horse. 
The howling of Wolves close by greeted the ears of the Doc- 
tor, and after a few seconds eleven of these ferocious sleuth- 
hounds of the forest rushed across the road on the trail of 
the tired Deer, which, without doubt,was soon pulled down 
and torn to pieces. What a glorious chance for arepeating- 
rifle! The worthy Doctor, however, although a keen sports- 
man, was armed only with what modern pathological 
science regards as the most killing weapon, at short range, 
of the faculty—his lancet. 

Roman history tells us that Romulus and Remus, the 
founders of the City of the Seven Hills, were suckled and 
reared by a she-Wolf. If this story be true, the foster- 
mother of those distinguished sons of the Tiber in her 
nature was not all Wolf. This incident has been partially 
paralleled by the story of Androcles and the Lion, as well 


464 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


as by that of Maldonata and the Puma. All three of these 
interesting incidents are highly creditable to the character 
of the brute creation. It is certain that the ancient Romans, 
as a race, inherited none of the characteristic cowardice 
which fine-drawn physiological science might trace to the 
source of their ancestors’ early sustenance. Nevertheless, 
the blood-thirsty and predatory instincts of the Lupine race 
were amply exemplified by the humane and gentle rule of 
many of the Roman Emperors—notably, Caligula, Nero, 
Galba, and Vitellius. 

In the history of America, the instances have been rare 
indeed in which Wolves are authentically reported to have 
attacked human beings. Emboldened by numbers. and 
stimulated by hunger, the Wolves of Russia and Siberia 
have for ages been a standing threat and terror to night 
travelers in the inhospitable countries mentioned, in the 
dangerous mountain fastnesses of which they are met with 
in such multitudes. Ina part of the world in which the 
humanizing influences of a refined civilization for hundreds 
of years found no resting-place, it was the custom in intes- 
tine wars to leave the dead and dying on the field of battle— 
to rot, or be devoured by beasts of prey. Is it any wonder 
that, under such conditions, like the Bengal Tiger, the 
Wolves of Russia became man-eaters ? ; 

In contradistinction to the habits of their European con- 
geners, North American Wolves, although comparatively 
bold under the pressure of hunger, dread the presence of 
man, and flee from him, as do the Deer and the Black Bear. 

I remember a story current in old times, about a gigantic 
Indian named Clouthier—a rather Gallic designation for a 
pure Algenquin—who was well known to the late Squire 
Wright, the founder of the ancient Village of Hull. My 
story may be quite true in every particular, for the Indian 
in question was of Herculean proportions and almost 
superhuman strength. On one of his hunting excursions, 
Clouthier was attacked and torn to pieces by a large pack 
of Wolves. It was surmised by those who discovered his 
remains and fragments of his clothing, that after he had 


THE WOLF. 465 


shot one of his assailants with his single-barreled, flint-lock 
gun, he had drawn his tomahawk from his belt, and fought 
desperately for his life. From the number of skulls and 
other portions of the bodies of the Wolves found at the 
scene of the tragedy, it was concluded that the Indian had 
killed fourteen of the Wolves before he had been over- 
powered—all of which had been devoured by their fellows 
excepting the bones. Like his scriptural prototype, the 
Algonquin Sampson did not fall unavenged. 


In connection with my subject, the following story may 
prove interesting. It is an old tradition now. I shall give 
it as told by a great-grandson of the hero of the tale, who 
died, in this county, about ten years ago. Whether true 
or not, it is a credited tradition amongst the Tete du Boule 
Indians, who inhabit the region surrounding the upper and 
head waters of the Gatineau, one of the largest tributaries 
of the Ottawa River, the point of confluence of which with 
the latter stream is within about one mile of the north- 
eastern limits of the City of Ottawa. 

During the early settlement of Canada by the French, an 
adventurous hunter named Baptiste Sabourin penetrated 
this northern wilderness, and began trapping and hunting 
within the limits of the hunting-grounds of the Tete du 
Boule Indians, about two hundred miles north of the 
Ottawa River. His adventure was a daring one, but the 
temptation was great, as, at that early day, the forests 
were full of game. Moose, Caribou, Otters, Beavers, Bears, 
and Black Foxes abounded in those primeval solitudes, the 
peltries of which could be advantageously disposed of — 
at Montreal and Quebec. 

Sabourin had been hunting but a short time when he 
was discovered and surprised by a party of Indians, who 
took him prisoner and brought him before Wanonga, the 
chief of the Tete du Boules. <A council was called, and 
after the usual deliberations, the daring hunter was con- 
demned to death; but, as in the case of Pocahontas and 


Captain John Smith, the execution of the sentence was 
30 


466 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


arrested by the hand of a woman. The French hunter 
appears to have been a fine, handsome fellow, twenty-five 

years of age, six feet tall, and of lithe, manly proportions. 

His admirable proportions and physical beauty had made a 
strong impression upon Tamiroo, the only daughter of the 

chief, a lovely girl of eighteen, whose stately, upright’ 
figure, finely cut features, and flashing black eyes had not 

escaped the notice of the condemned man. 

When the prisoner was about to be delivered over to 
. the tender mercies of the elder Indian women, the chief's 
daughter interceded with her father for his life. Her inter- 
cession proved successful, and Sabourin became a member 
of the tribe. A mutual affection, or a case of ‘‘ love at first 
sight,’’ seems to have influenced the two young people, for, 
after a short residence with the Indians, the couple were 
married according to the nuptial ceremonial of the tribe, 
and Sabourin remained to the end of his life among his 
dusky friends. In the course of time he became the most 
expert and daring hunter amongst them. 

Late in the fall, on one of his hunting excursions, the 
white hunter encountered two large bucks of the Woodland 
Caribou species. They had been fighting, and their antlers 
became interlocked in ‘a most inextricable manner. Strangé 
to say, and entirely contrary to what a pure Indian would 
have done, he did not kill them, but immediately repaired 
to the camp for assistance to take them alive. In company 
with a-number of Indians, he returned to the scene of 
battle, and the two animals were secured, and bound with 
strong thongs of Deer-skin. Afterward, they were sepa- 
rated by cutting away a prong or two from the antlers of 
one of them. 

The animals, securely bound, were then drawn on tobog- 
gans to the camp. <A suitable inclosure was then formed, 
in which they were placed. They were liberally supplied 
with mosses, lichens, and other food, by the younger mem- 
bers of the community, and soon became tame and docile. 
After a few months’ confinement, they became great pets, 
and in due time were liberated, and the gate of the inclos- 


THE WOLF. 467 


ure was left open. For many days they did not leave the 
vicinity of the camp. Finally, they became almost as 
domestic in their habits as cows. They frequently wan- 
dered off in the woods, but invariably returned in the even- 
ing and slept in the inclosure; although on many occasions 
they remained feeding upon the plains all night, and then 
would come back in the morning. 

About a year after the capture of the animals, and when 
they were unusually tame, Sabourin conceived the idea of 
training them to harness. He made a set of rude harness 
out of the thick, strong hide of the Moose; and before hitch- 
ing them to his traine sauvage, he drove them around 
abreast for some days, at the first trial having them led by 
one of the young Indian boys. After about three weeks of 
patient training, he had the satisfaction of being able to 
drive them wherever he pleased, as the Laplander does his 
Reindeer. In his hunting excursions, Sabourin found his 
horned team of trotters of the greatest use. On the wide, 
open plains, he was accustomed to drive close up to a herd 
of Caribou without alarming them in the least, and thus 
was enabled to obtain many a sure and successful shot 
without subjecting himself to the labor and fatigue of a 
slow and protracted stalk upon this wary game. 

According to the story, the two Deer remained with the 
hunter for eight years. They were frequently absent in the 
forest for two or three days at a time, but, strange to say, 
never appeared to separate, and never failed to return. The 
younger members of the tribe wondered at what they 
thought the magic of the white man, attested by the taming 
of such proverbially wild and shy animals. To some of the 
elders of the tribe, however, the accomplishment of the dif- 
ficult task did not seem so unaccountable. They appeared 
to have had a dim recollection of a tradition, handed down 
from one generation to another, from the far-back past, 
that their remote ancestors, in other lands, had been accus- 
tomed to use the Reindeer for similar purposes. 

.Can it be that a possibility exists of a lineal relationship 
existing between the Laplanders and the aborigines of the 


468 ; BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


North American Continent? There certainly appear to 
exist some strongly marked physical similarities between 
the Tete du Boule Indians and the Laplanders. 

Now I am obliged to come to the melancholy and tragic 
part of the story, which, were it a mere fiction, instead of 
a generally accepted tradition in the unwritten records of 
the tribe, I should tell in a different manner. 

On one occasion, as usual with him, Sabourin was out 
alone, hunting Caribou. He had driven his team up to a 
herd, and had succeeded in killing two of their number. 
He was then about twenty miles from home. Shortly 
before sunset, he had fastened the. carcasses to his sledge 
and started for home, which he expected to reach in a 
couple of hours. 

Night had fallen, and while passing through a pine for- 
est, he was suddenly startled by the howling of Wolves 
close at hand; and before he could unloose and throw the 
carcasses off his sledge, the savage animals, in great num- 
bers, rushed upon his team, both of which they pulled 
down and tore to pieces in a few minutes. Meanwhile, the 
_ hunter had climbed to the branches of a pine-tree. He 
carried his gun up with him, and commenced firing down 
upon the dark mass of Wolves. He killed a number 
of them, as was seen afterward, which were soon devoured 
by their fellows; but his ammunition soon became ex- 
hausted. Still the blood-roused monsters kept watch. 

Daylight at last came, and all was silence in that dreary 
solitude. Not having arrived at the camp, fears were felt 
for his safety, and a searching-party started upon his trail 
next day, and on arriving at the scene of the last night's 
tragedy, they discovered the missing man still seated on a 
branch of the pine, about twelve feet from the ground. 
One of the Indians climbed up, after vainly uttering many 
shouts to wake him from his sleep, as they imagined, and 
upon touching the hunter, he found that he was dead. He 
had been frozen stiff. 

It is well known that intense cold superinduces sleep. 
The Indians rightly concluded that poor Sabourin had 


“ ENFANT PERDU.” 


PLT a ee 
TET 


THE WOLF. 469 


fallen asleep; and so it was. Worn out by fatigue, anxiety, 


‘ and watching, he was seized by that fatal and everlasting 


slumber which, in this world, knows no waking. 

Tamiroo was stricken with frantic grief at the tragical 
death of her husband, for whom she had entertained the 
most constant and fervent affection. She mourned sincerely 
for him for many months. After the period of her devoted 
mourning was at an end, being still comparatively young, 
her hand was sought by a number of the most distin- 
guished warriors of the tribe; but, ever true to the memory 
of the last partner of her life, she turned a deaf ear to their 


entreaties, and devoted herself to the rearing of her two © 


sons in those valued branches of wood-craft essential to the 
character of a brave warrior and expert hunter. At the 
present day, the very best blood of the Tete du Boules can 
be traced back to the intrepid hunter, Baptiste Sabourin. 

Were my narrative simply a romance of fancy, I might 
have ended it by causing the faithful, bereaved wife, under 
the influence of a paroxysm of grief, to precipitate herself 
from some convenient cliff, or to end her sorrows beneath 
the waters of some placid lake. I have preferred, however, 
to relate the incidents of the tragedy as they have been 
chronicled and handed down by the traditions of the tribe. 
I have said chronicled, for it is well known that, in many 
of the aboriginal tribes, records of famous and notable 
events are perpetuated by signs and symbols inscribed or 
depicted upon rolls of smooth birch-bark. 


Hunting the Wolf in Canada is chiefly confined to trap- 
ping, or poisoning by strychnine, the latter being a ques- 
tionable and unsportsmanlike mode of destroying wild 
animals, which, except in very peculiar cases, ought to be 
frowned upon and discouraged. Many of the animals 
killed by poison wander off a long distance before they 
die, suffering dreadful torture, and are never found. 

Wolves are seldom seen in the woods, even by those 
whose vocations oblige them continually to travel through 
the most solitary fastnesses. So keen is the eye and the 


470 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


ear, and so acute is the Wolf’s sense of smell, that the 
hunter or bush-ranger is either seen, scented, or heard before 
he has any idea that a Wolf had been near. Now and 
then an accidental shot may be obtained, but even such 
chances are few and far between. 

Six years ago, I saw an enormous Wolf on the Mada- 
waska River. He had been started by another hunter from 
the top of a mountain, and had rushed down the side of a 
ravine, at the end of which I was watching for him. When 
nearly within range, he jumped up, and stood upon a log 
behind two pine-trees, which concealed every part of his 
body but his nose and the end of his tail. Neither of the 
visible parts being as vulnerable as the nose of a bear, I 
waited for him to advance one more step. This he did not 
do, but jumped off the log and disappeared in the thick 
brush and tall weeds. Thus I lost my chance of getting a 
grand trophy, and thus, owing to his escape, I feel con- 
vinced that many a beautiful Deer afterward lost its life. 

Spearing the Gray Wolf on the open prairies, in the 
style of ‘‘ pig-sticking”’ in India, is a most.exciting kind 
of sport. Some of the more expert cowboys also have great 
sport roping him. This is usually only practiced where 
several of the men are riding together, in order that they 
may harass and turn the Wolf at frequent intervals, thus 
breaking his speed and playing into each other’s hands. 

These runs are not, however, always unattended by dan- 
ger, occasioned by badger-holes and prairie-dog towns, 
which are frequently encountered in the chase. But the 
grandest sport with the Gray, or, as he is called on the - 
plains, the Timber Wolf, may be enjoyed in coursing the 
animal with strong and courageous Greyhounds. Although 
the Gray Wolf is an animal of great speed and endurance, 
he is soon overtaken by the fleet-footed Gazehounds, which 
snap at and wound him with their powerful jaws and teeth, 
and by their extreme agility avoid his dangerous attacks, 
keeping him at bay until the mounted hunter arrives and 
terminates the chase by a well-directed pistol-shot. In 
consequence of the swiftness and great staying powers of 


THE WOLF. | 471 


the Wolf, for a time this kind of hunting taxes all the 
energies of the hounds. The speed of the Wolf, neverthe- 
less, when contrasted with the lightning performances of 
the telephone of the prairies—the jack-rabbit, or great hare 
of the plains—is comparatively trifling. 

It has been affirmed by the earlier naturalists that the 
aborigines of North America, before the advent of white 
men, had domesticated Wolves instead of dogs. This 
account can readily be credited by anyone acquainted with 
the character and appearance of the Indian dog of even 
the present day. While smaller in size—a condition super- 
induced by ages of starvation—the Indian dog of the pres- 
ent is peculiarly and positively wolfish in appearance. 

It is a notable fact that an irreconcilable antipathy has 
always existed between our domestic dog and the tamed 
Wolf of the Indians. In their constant combats and quar- 
rels with each other, the former are always the aggressors. 
The Indian dogs always act upon the defensive, usually 
trying to avoid a conflict with their more courageous 
kinsmen. | 

During the period when the lordly Bison frequented and 
ornamented, with the grandeur of his magnitude, the lim- 
itless prairies of the Great Northwest in countless millions, 
the Wolf was his persistent and perpetual enemy; tracking 
the calves, the old, the wounded, and the helpless, until an 
opportunity presented itself for a safe attack. Wolves 
never dared to attack a herd, or even a full-grown animal in 
full vigor, but waited patiently for a chance to fall upon 
the disabled. A single White Arctic Wolf will run down 
a Barren-ground Caribou, and by one savage bite in the 
flank disable the largest buck. Sir John Richardson—a 
celebrated Arctic explorer, who has contributed many 
interesting and valuable facts pertaining to the fauna of 
Northern America to the general fund of natural history— 
tells us that the Wolves of that region run down and capt- 
ure Foxes whenever they find them on the open plains at 
a distance from their underground dens. <A large White 
Wolf has sufficient strength to carry off an Arctic Fox in 


472 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


his mouth, at a rate of speed far surpassing that of hunters 
upon snow-shoes. They frequently, also, attack and carry 
off the sleigh-dogs of the Indians. 

The Northern “Indians i improve the breed of their sleigh- 
dogs by crossing them with the Wolf. This process adds 
to their size, speed, and strength. The voice of the Wolf 
and that of the Indian dog, to my own personal knowledge, 
in volume and sound are strikingly similar. I remember 
having hunted Deer, many years ago, with a large-sized 
Indian dog. He was one of the best dogs that I ever 
turned loose upon a Deer-track. As he unflaggingly pur- 
sued his quarry, his tongue was distinctly and unmistak- 
ably the howl of a Wolf—loud, clear, and prolonged, with- 
out a single sharp bark like that of a dog. This dog, true 
to the blood of his ancestry, never failed to find a Deer, if 
there was one within reach; and when once the game was 
found, he stuck to the trail, like his wild progenitors, until 
he tasted blood. 

When I speak of Indian thea I do not mean the miser- 
able, diminutive race of curs generally found in starving 
annoyance around an Indian camp to-day. Such attenu- 
ated whelps, in my opinion, can trace their origin to the 
Fox; certainly not to the Wolf. Iallude to the strong and 
hardy Wolf-dogs as the éraveler finds them, drawing the 
sleighs of the Indians in the Northwest, and speeding the 
Eskimos over the snow, beneath the crackling flame of 
the Aurora Borealis, in the Arctic Circle. 

The late Sheriff Dickson, of Pakenham, who during 
many years of his life was a most successful Deer-hunter, 
and an enthusiastic student of geology, in an article on 
the Gray Wolf, published many years ago in ‘‘ Billing’s 
Canadian Naturalist and Geologist,’ gives us many inter- 
esting particulars respecting the Wolf. From personal 
exparionea: he bears testimony to the proverbial cowardice 
of Wolves. He states that when caught ina trap, wounded 
by a gunshot, or cornered up so that they could not escape, 
he invariably killed them with a club ora tomahawk with- 
out meeting any resistance. When in numbers, he had seen 


THE WOLF. 473 


Wolves display boldness after they had pulled down a 
Deer; but they always gave way when a shot was fired 
among them. The experience of Mr. Dickson corresponds 
in all points with my own. | 

When pursued by Wolves, Deer make for the nearest 
water, in which they have a chance to escape, being able to 
swim much faster than their enemies. Should the river or 
lake be narrow, the Deer generally swim either up or down, 
seldom straight across; frequently landing, after a detour, 
on the same side in which they entered the water. By this 
means the Wolves are puzzled and put off the scent. If 
there are thick weeds or brush along the shore, a Deer fre- 
quently sinks his body under water so that no part will 
appear above the surface but his head, and by this means is 
enabled to evade the cunning of his pursuers. On glare-ice, 
the Wolf soon ends the chase. When frightened, the 
Deer falls at every bound, and is easily overtaken. 

Should the Deer be driven into a strong rapid, and the 
Wolves attempt to follow, they get swept off their feet, and 
are carried down the rapids. Should one of them hold his 
own, and approach close enough, a large buck will often kill 
him with a blow of his sharp hoof. Courageous hounds are 
often killed in the same manner. When there is a crust on 
the snow which will bear the Wolves, but which is not 
strong enough to support the Deer, vast numbers of the 
latter are killed by those sanguinary marauders. 

From personal experience, I have no hesitation in assign- 
ing to the Wolf of the Ottawa Valley—the typical Gray 
Wolf of North America—if not a preéminence in size and 
weight, at least an equality in magnitude, and in all other 
amiable characteristics of the genus Lupus, with his blood 
relations of any other land. 


COURSING THE GRAY WOLF.* 


By Duncan 8. Caan. 


LIVED some years in the Texas Panhandle, where the 
question as to the best dog to use in coursing the Gray 
Wolf was a vital one, and my experience in the mat- 
ter may prove of interest to other lovers of that grand 

sport. Let me premise by saying that I firmly believe that 
any dog—no matter of what breed or strength—that will, 
single-handed, seize and hold his grip on a Gray Wolf will 
hardly survive liis first encounter. The thick hair and 
tough, loose skin of the Wolf protect him from serious 
injury from the dog’s teeth, while his own powerful fangs 
cut at each snap like a circular-saw. Of course, where a 
number of large dogs, of almost any breed, close in on a- 
Wolf, they may, in a combined attack, easily pull him 
down and kill him, whereas it would be suicidal for any 
one or two of them to attempt it alone. 

My conclusion was, that if destruction of the Wolves 
is the only object, the ordinary Fox-hound is by odds the 
‘best; not that dogs of this breed can capture or kill his 
Wolfship, but they trail him to his den, and this once 
located, his death is easily compassed. We used to use 
balls of cotton soaked in liquid carbolice acid and turpen- 
tine, and, igniting them, throw them in. In most cases this 
soon brought the game out, so nearly suffocated that he 
could be killed with a. club—though I must say we did not 
practice this mode of dispatching him. A wheezing, foam- 
ing, staggering Wolf might well bluff the Sorosis Club 
itself; so we generally preferred to pierce him with bullets, 


*From Sports Afield, by kind permission of the publishers. 
(475 ) 


476 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


while we stood at a safe distance. This method was effect- 
ive in the whelping-season, and men were employed spe- 
cially for this work on the ranch where I was then working 
—one of the largest in that section. There is, however, 
little sport in this; but, with the proper accessories, the 


Wolf furnishes as exciting a run as the most enthusiastic 


rider could wish. : 

To my mind, there is always something lacking in a 
sport where the game is helpless when caught. No matter 
how the pulses throb during the wild chase, there is always 
a sharp revulsion when the hoarse, agonized bleat of the 
Antelope tells that the fangs of his fierce pursuers are rend- 
ing his fleet limbs, or even when the sharp scream of the 
jack-rabbit ends the chase; but there are no such com- 
punctions when the cruel Wolf feels the tortures he has so 
often inflicted on others; and he is a formidable adversary 
when, grim and bristling, he turns at bay. 

As to the question of speed, it is mostly a matter of 
condition. A gorged Wolf is not fast, and I have shot 
several in this state by running up to them on average cow- 
ponies; but when properly ‘‘gaunted,’’ few horses can catch 
a Gray Wolf; and they have tremendous endurance. 

On the ranch I mentioned, we had seven cross-bred Stag- 
hounds and Greyhounds that ran and fought well together, 
and we all looked forward each season to the brief interval 
between the close of winter work and the spring round-up, 
when we would have leisure for hunting. Though we killed 
many Gray Wolves, it was always necessary to shoot them 
after the dogs overhauled them. They could keep the 
Wolves down, but could not kill them. 

I shall never forget the first one they caught. Wolves 
had shown up numerously that winter, and in my camp we 
were all eager to go into headquarters in spring and take 
the dogs out after them. Many were the speculations as to 
how the dogs would come out—whether they would tackle 
the Wolf, etc. 

At last the momentous day arrived; and behold us, six in 
number, mounted on our ‘‘top-horses,’’ sallying forth in 


a 


Sy 
= 


COURSING THE GRAY WOLF. 477 


search of our wily foes. How the day comes back to me 
now as my mind reverts to it, and | 
** Old memories crowd upon me; 
Old forms go trooping past.” - 
The day was perfect. The breath of spring was in the 


air; a subtle perfume rose from the tender grass crushed 


under our horses’ feet as they moved under us with that 
strong and springy step which is in itself a joy. Our gallant 
dogs were all eagerness as they threw their lithe forms in 
the air and bounded with delighted yelps around us. We 
were all true friends and comrades. What more could 
mortal wish ¢ 

In the distance rose the abrupt wall of the great Staked 
Plain, and around us stretched the gently rolling Valley of 
the Canadian, with its emerald carpet of buffalo-grass—an 
ideal coursing-ground. Antelope were in sight in many 


‘places; but to-day our thoughts were on fiercer game, and 


we avoided them, keeping the dogs close to us. Thus werode | 
for several miles, keeping a sharp lookout for Wolves, but 
beginning to fear that we were doomed to disappointment. 

At length, glancing toward a ridge on the left, I caught a 
fleeting glimpse of some animal disappearing over its crest. 
Hardly daring to hope that it was a Wolf, we galloped to 
the top of the ridge, and a simultaneous yell broke from our 
lips as, less than two hundred yards away, moving along 
with that indes¢ribably lazy and insolent lope he assumes 
when he thinks a safe distance is between him and an 
enemy, we saw a large Gray Wolf. 

At the sound of our voices, he glanced back, and, drop- 
ping his insouciance, lit out like a gray streak; and well-he 
might, for behind him the dogs were vaulting across the 
prairie with the velocity, almost, of so many arrows, and 
were closing in on the fated prowler despite his most 
strenuous efforts to leave them behind. The horses, strain- 
ing every nerve, as in a quarter-race, were keeping well up; 
while, to ease our minds, encourage the dogs, and rattle the 
Wolf, we were giving vent to yells which would not have 
discredited a Comanche. The dogs were running well 


478 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


bunched, and gaining rapidly. Nowa quarter has been run, 
and hardly twenty yards ‘separate them from the chase. Our 
yells redouble as, with a magnificent spurt, our favorite, 
Kate, shoots out from the press, and, with strides the eye 
can scarcely follow, closes on the Wolf as if he were tied. 
Quick as thought he turns at bay; but Kate avoids the 
gleaming fangs, and seizes his hind leg as she flies past. 
Both come to the ground with the shock, and before he can 
rise the pack is on him. In a moment more we are up. 
Each man shouts encouragement to the dogs, holding 
aloft his ready six-shooter in one hand, while the other 
restrains his plunging horse as the animal rears from the 
writhing, growling mass almost under his feet. Several 
sharp yelps tell of cuts inflicted by the clashing jaws of the 
grim quarry, and each of us is waiting for a chance to fire 
without danger to the dogs or horses. The dogs fight with 
courage and skill—with quick, sharp snaps—leaping back 
out of reach; for the dog that holds his grip on a Wolf, in 
the language of the range, ‘‘may linger, but he can’t stay.” 

Suddenly, with a mighty effort, the wolf shakes himself 
free from his foes and gains his feet. What a picture of 
ferocity !—his rumpled hair bristling, jaws dripping bloody 


foam, gray eyes glaring with demoniac fury. Small won- 


der that the dogs shrink for a moment into a wider circle! 
He sees his chance, and makes a dash for liberty; but it is 
fatal, for it brings him past the best shot on the range. 
Judy, the nearest dog, bounds on the Wolf; but, ere she 
touches him, the shot has sped, and he lies quivering on 
the ground. . 

The dogs rush in, worry and mangle him to their heart’s 
content. We dismount, and placing our hats on the 
ground, pour the water from our canteens in their indented 
crowns to refresh our panting allies. <A brief rest is taken, 
during which praise and petting is lavished on our proud 
dogs, Kate coming in for a double share; and having 
secured the scalp of our victim, we return leisurely to fight 
the battle over again over the bountiful ranch dinner, and 
plan new forays against the marauding Wolves. 


ee ey eee eee et 


‘ , 
Pay FS ee ve eo 


THE WOLVERINE. 


By C. A. Cooper (‘‘ SIBYLLENE”). 


7AXCEPT to naturalists and dwellers in the Arctic 
4° regions, the characteristics of the Wolverine are but 
slightly known. In the temperate and torrid zones, 

¢-' we find people able to minutely describe the hoop- 
snake; but ask these people, or even their better-informed 
neighbors, what they know about the Wolverine, and if 
you do not get the answer, ‘‘ Well, there are plenty of them 
in Michigan, but I never happened to see one,’’ you will 
probably be given some of the fifteenth-century theories of 
Olaus Magnus, a better archbishop than naturalist, whose 
writings upon this animal have been handed down with 
clock-work regularity. 

Naturally, there are various causes for this- lack of 
knowledge, the first and foremost being that the Wolverine 
has virtually been exterminated within the borders of the 
United States. Even in the ‘‘good old days”’’ there were 
comparatively few of them. 

The menageries and zoélogical gardens know him not, 
and his stuffed form is principally noted for its absence 
from a majority of the museums throughout the land. 
Were it not for the frequent revival of the name, through 
Michigan being known as the Wolverine State, the fact 
that such an animal exists would be unknown to a majority 
of the busy people of this continent. 

Being nocturnal, wary, and solitary in habit, it is not 
surprising that the Wolverine is so seldom seen; especially 
as it now inhabits only the boreal regions, or the most 
secluded portions of elevated forests in the north temper- 
ate zone. With the exception of one or two points ip 


British America, it can not be said to have been abundant 
(479) 


480 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


at any time, as the following partial comparative record of 
Hudson’s Bay Company’s sales conclusively shows: ‘‘ Sa- 
bles, four millions; minks, two and a half millions; otters, 
one and a half millions; Wolverines, one hundred thou- 
sand.,”’ 

Except when some overwise old Wolverine has taken a 
contract to persistently destroy their traps, the Hudson’s 
Bay trappers do not make them a particular object of pur- 
suit, on account of their extreme cunning, and scarcity, 
and their mid-rank in value among fur-bearing animals. 
When, too, we consider that the severe winters, and insect 
pests at other seasons, keep all save a few hardy adventur- 
ers from invading its domain; that only the outlying dis- 
tricts receive nocturnal visits from the animal when it is on 
the verge of starvation, and that until recently the outskirts 
of its territory have been free from railroad encroachments, 
we see why the few sober and reliable articles upon this 
species have failed to dispel the mystery and exaggeration 
of centuries. 

In Northern Europe and Asia, the animal is generally 
known as the Glutton, the term Wolverine being an Ameri- 
canism of the eighteenth century. 

Owing to the difficulty of getting reliable data, pours 
every country or tribe has seen fit to invest the animal with 
a name which, in the opinion of the original investigators, 
had some distinguishing reference to the supposed form 
or character of the beast; but, in addition to Wolverine 
and Glutton, the only one not substantially local is the 
French Canadian Carcajou, which is also well known to 
residents of portions of British America and the United 
States. 

Until about the year 1850, the Glutton of Europe and 
Asia was thought to differ materially from the American 
Wolverine. Later investigation, however, has shown it to 
be identical. The latest edition of Webster's Unabridged 
Dictionary is not at all clear on this point. It not only 
defines the Carcajou as ‘‘the American Badger,” but 
presents cuts showing the Glutton to be epicurean and 


THE WOLVERINE. 481 


lamb-like; while the Wolverine, on another page, is appar- 
ently sprightly, and ever anxious for a fight. 

In fact, all of the well-known names applied to this car- 

nivorous mammal seem to have originated in misconception 
and error. The Latin Guo, signifying glutton, selected 
by writers as early as 1550, and still used by modern 
authors to prevent confusion, gives but a faint idea of the 
gastronomic feats of the species as related by Old World 
naturalists, who seemed determined that the animal should 
do justice to the name they had given it. The repasts 
of those ancient gentlemen, Milo of Crotona and The- 
‘ogenes of Thasos, who could each devour a whole ox in 
one day, are insignificant affairs as compared with the 
_ voracity imputed to the Glutton, which, weighing only 
thirty pounds, could finish an Elk at one meal, stopping 
only occasionally to unburden itself by squeezing between 
two trees. One of these ancient authors, Linnzeus, gave to 
the ‘‘American form of the creature”? the name of Ursus 
luscus, which signifies a Bear with one eye; the foundation 
for his conclusions being a single unlucky specimen from 
Hudson’s Bay which had lost an eye. 

The wariness, the nocturnal habits, and the exaggerated 
ferocity of the Timber Wolf, were all ascribed to the Wol- 
verine at an early day; hence the name. ‘At least, a pre- 
ponderance of evidence favors this view, and agrees in its 
being a more appropriate name than Glutton. 

Dr. Elliott Coues, who has written much the best scien- 
tific article on the Wolverine I have yet seen, is of the 
opinion that Carcajou, or Carcajou quincajou, said to have 
been first applied by Charlevoix to either the Wolverine or 
some animal of the cat kind, is derived from the Cree 
Indian word O-kee-coo-haw-gew, and that Quickhatch, or 
Qui-qui-hatch, another term familiar to the whites’ of Brit- 
ish America, has the same origin. Richardson and others 
agree with him. 

The Wolverine belongs to the family Mustelida@, sub- — 
family Musteline, genus Gulo, and is known to the scien- 


tific world as Gulo luscus—a very absurd name indeed. In 
31 


482 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


the structure of its teeth it resembles the martens; in its 
eyes and incomplete plantigrade walk, the Bear; the 
markings suggest the skunk or badger; while its habits, 
endurance, and ferocity have vaguely connected it with the 
Wolf. 

As in the case of the Bear, the after parts droop, and the 
head is usually carried low. In general appearance, it 
would somewhat resemble a fat, three-months-old Cinna- 
mon Bear, were it not for its bushy tail. A casual front 


Wolverine. 


view would render the deception complete. The head is 
rather large and short, and tapers rapidly to the muzzle. 
The ears are short. and broad, the neck and body rather 
long, and the eyes very small and black. In length, the 
body of an adult specimen, including the head, measures 
about thirty-two inches, the extreme length of the tail add- 
ing slightly more than a foot to the measurement. The 
legs are short and large. The feet are also large, and make 
tracks in the snow so nearly resembling those of a small 
Bear that the inexperienced hunter is generally deceived. 
To the practiced eye, they are readily distinguished by the 
short steps of the Wolverine. 


THE WOLVERINE. 483 


Perhaps the most prominent and distinguishing external 
feature is the stubby tail, which is covered with soft, dark 
hair seven inches long. This, while soft and inclined to 
droop, is still remarkably fluffy and bushy, the impression, 
at first sight, being that something droll or defective has 
been dressed in gorgeous raiment. 

On account of the feet being semi-plantigrade, its gait 
approaches the awkward and shambling walk of the Bear, 
which, together with its short and thick legs, conveys the 
idea of great strength. 

The fine and valuable fur is partially concealed by a 
growth of coarse hair, which attains a length of four inches 
along the sides and hips. Like some of the other fur- 
bearers, the anal glands contain a very unsavory liquid, as 
the subjoined narrative of an experience of Captain James 
Ross will show: 

**At Victoria Harbor, in the middle of the winter, two 
or three months before we abandoned the ship, we were 
one day surprised by a visit by one (Wolverine), which, 
pressed hard by hunger, had climbed the snow-wall which 
surrounded our vessel, and came boldly on deck, where 
our crew were walking for exercise. Undismayed at the 
presence of twelve or fourteen men, he seized upon a canis- 
ter which had some meat in it, and was in so ravenous a 
state that, while busily engaged at his feast, he suffered me 
to pass a noose over his head, by which he was immediately 
secured and strangled. By discharging the contents of two 
secretory organs, he emitted a most insupportable stench. 
These secretory vessels are about the size of a walnut, and 
discharge a fluid of a yellowish-brown color and of the 
consistence of honey.”’ 

The claws of the Wolverine are horn-colored, inclining 
to whitish, and about an inch long. Johnson’s Natural 
History says: ‘‘The women of Kamchatka use the white 
paws of this animal in dressing their hair.’”’? As the paws 
are black, the intention is not clear. 

There is considerable variation in the light colors of the 


body. A light-colored stripe, varying from reddish-brown 


484 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


to creamy-gray, and usually about two inches broad, 
extends from the top of the base of the tail, along the 
middle of each side, to the shoulders. Rarely, this stripe is 
three inches broad, and almost white, and when thus found, 
in connection with gray hairs throughout the dark of the 
specimen, is an indication of old age. Most of the speci- 
mens I have seen have had more or less gray upon the front 
of the head, and small, irregular blotches of white upon the 
throat and brisket. With the exception of the aforemen- 
tioned light colors, the whole of the animal is a dark- 


brown, shading into black upon the back and feet. A ~ 


specimen in the Chamber of Commerce library at Denver, 
Colorado, from which our illustration is drawn, has a 
gray stripe across the forehead, and large white blotches 


on neck and chest, but the body-stripe is hardly distin- 


guishable. 

Four adults taken at Trappers’ Lake, Colorado, in the 
winter of 1889, were beautifully marked, the broad, light- 
colored bands contrasting magnificently with the surround- 
ing dark and glossy fur. A specimen in the possession of 
J. A. Murdock, an editor and naturalist of Pilot Mound, 
Manitoba, has, in addition to the irregular throat-marks, 
considerable white around the nose. Audubon says: ‘A 


white stripe extends across the forehead; but thisis by no ~ 


means regular. = 

The fur of adults does not change color in winter. I 
have never seen the very young, which are said to be quite 
woolly and of a dirty-white color; neither have I been able 
to find anyone who could say anything authentic concern- 
ing them. As the oft-repeated ‘‘ dirty-white’’ color would 
be something of an absurdity in nature, I do not accept it 
readily, but, instead, believe the young to resemble the 
parents; in which event, they would easily be mistaken for 
young minks, sables, or possibly otters, by all except ana- 
tomical naturalists. 

Notwithstanding its want of great agility, and the con- 
sequent apparent difficulty of procuring food in the bleak 
North, the Wolverine is usually very fat. Thirty-five 


Jilin tial pee 


ad ‘ 
7, a = 


THE WOLVERINE. 485 


pounds may be said to be the average weight of those in 
— good condition. 

There are eighteen teeth in the upper jaw and twenty 
below, divided as follows: Incisors, twelve; canines, four; 
pre-molars, sixteen; molars, six. As in the marten, the 
upper back molars are set transversely in the jaw. 

. The Wolverine may be said to be confined to the north- 
ern parts of Europe, Asia, and America, and is usually 
found only in wooded districts. In the Rocky Mountain 
- region, its southern limit is probably 38°, and near the 
eastern coast of the United States, about 42°. Audubon 
killed one in Rensselaer County, New York, in 1810. In 

several natural histories we find accounts of occasional 
specimens having been taken, previous to 1850, at about 
latitude 42° and 43°, in the States of New York, Massachu- 
setts, New Hampshire, and Vermont; but I can not recall a 
single account of its occurrence in the Ohio or Mississippi 
Valleys, nor in Canada, though it is probable the animal is 
still to be found in the latter country.* We have late and 
authentic records of its occurrence in the Rocky Mountains 
as far south as latitude 39°, though I have never heard of one’ 
in this latitude below an altitude of nine thousand feet. As 
we proceed toward the Arctic regions, along the Continental 
Divide, we hear of its presence from time to time; but until 
we reach the Peace and Mackenzie River regions, in British 


*In a letter to the editor, dated March 29, 1890, Mr. William P. Lett says: ‘1 find in the 
‘Naturalist and Geologist,’ published by the late Elkanah Billings, the paleontologist of the 
Geological Survey of Canada, the following: ‘The Glutton (Gulo Luscus, Linn.) is the Car- 
cajou of Le Hontan and the French Canadians; Quickhatch (Ursulo affinis Americana) of 
Catesby (Carolina); Quickhatch of the English residents at Hudson’s Bay; Quickhatch or 
Wolverine of Ellis; Wolverine of Pennant; Wolverine, Qui-qui-hatch, or Carcajou of Gra- 

_ ham (Manuscripts); Ka-blee-a-ri-oo of the Eskimos of Mellville Peninsula; Ka-e-week of 
the Eskimos of Boothia Felix; Na-gha-i-eh of the Chippewas; O-mee-that-sees O-kee-coo- 
haw-gew (whence, Sir John Richardson observes, the term Quickhatch of the European 
‘laborers in the service of the Hudson’s Bay Company is evidently derived) of the Crees or 
Algonquins; Rosomak of the Russians; Jarf Filfress of the Fauna Suecica; Timmi of 
the Kamchatkans; Haeppi of the Koratzki; Gluton of the French; Gulo of Olaus Magnus; 
Gulo Vielfrass of Genet; Hyena and Ursus Hudsonis of Brisson; Mustela Gulo and Ursus 
a Luscus of Linnzeus; Ursus Gulo of Pallas and Gmelin; Taxus Gulo of Tiedemann; Gulo 
_ Arcticus of Desmarest; Gulo Vulgaris of Griffith’s Cuvier; Gulo Luscus of Sabine.’ I 
a can not find any authentic account of this animal having been killed or observed in the 
Ottawa Valley of late years; but one was killed, about forty years ago, while swimming 
across the Gatineau River, which stream enters the Ottawa River about one mile below 
this city. I dare say there are some up there yet.” 


486 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


America, it can not be said to be, nor has it ever been, 
plentiful. On the west, north, and east, the range of the 
animal extends to the ocean. The four skins which I had 
the pleasure of examining at Trappers’ Lake were from 
specimens trapped in the winter of 1889, at an elevation of 
ten thousand feet, in Garfield County, Colorado, on the 
fortieth parallel. 

While crossing the mountains between Middle and 
Egeria Parks, Colorado, in the winter of 1883, I was fortu- 
nate enough to kill one of these animals. I say fortunate, 
because for twenty-five years I have annually passed from 
two weeks to three months in the wildest portions of Colo- 
rado, Michigan, and Wisconsin, and never have seen but 
this one living specimen at large. 

. It was late in the afternoon of a day that promised snow, 
that I had seated myself in the edge of a clump of pines 
for a moment’s rest, before starting upon a down-hill jour- 
ney of ten miles. While mentally discussing the chances 
of getting lost ina snow-storm, were I to leave a well-known 
creek for a: more direct but untried route, a Wolverine 
came out of a gulch, and was about to pass within fifty 
yards of me. It caught the movement as I raised my rifle, 
and sat upon its haunches, when almost instantly its neck 
was broken by a bullet in the throat. It proved to be a 
male in good condition, and was killed so quickly that it 
gave forth no fetid odor. The lateness of the hour, and my 
heavy load, prevented taking more than the hurriedly 
stripped skin; and even this was given to a friend to keep as 
a memento of our hunt. 


_ The following account of the capture of a Wolverine, 
written by Frank T. Wyman, of Boise City, Idaho, I take 
pleasure in quoting verbatim: 

‘‘The Wolverine spoken of was killed by my brother, 
Charles M. Wyman, in February, 1889. He had spent the 
night in a cabin on the top of Lion Hill, about forty miles 
south-southeast of Salt Lake City, Utah. The altitude is 
about nine thousand feet above the sea. Early in the morn- 


a — 


THE WOLVERINE, 487 


ing, some miners passed the cabin, following what they 
called the tracks of a Mountain Lion. My brother followed 
them, and found the tracks ended at the opening of a 
mining-shaft. A heavy fall of snow had nearly covered 
this over, and the animal had accidentally fallen some forty 
feet to the bottom, where a foot or two of snow prevented 
any serious injury from the fall. 

“Charles lowered himself to the bottom, when a shot- 
gun loaded with heavy shot, and a lantern, were sent 
down. The miners above were opposed to his proceeding, 
and wished to haul him out, but in vain. From the bottom 
of the shaft a drift extended about thirty feet, and then 
branched into a ‘Y.’ At the point of branching was a 
large timber to hold the roof. Pausing here a moment be- 
fore proceeding to explore the right-hand opening, Charles 
pointed the gun into this drift, and started to advance, 
when, with a snarl which sounded loud enough in the nar- 
row drift, the Wolverine came from the other branch. My 
brother was unable to point the gun into that drift in time 
.to shoot, because of the timber, and so was defenseless. 

‘**Acting on the principle that wild animals are usually 
afraid of an artificial light, he swung the lantern into its 
face, which caused it to retreat. As quickly as possible, 
the gun was brought to bear upon the proper point, where- 
upon the Wolverine uttered another snarl and came again. 
Taking as good an aim as possible in the uncertain light, a 
shot was fired, which of course extinguished the light. 
After waiting for a time, with one finger upon the other 
trigger, Charles relighted the lantern, and found the 
Wolverine dead, just in front of him. 

‘“*There were no other Wolverines in the vicinity, so far 
as known. A sheep-herder, near by, had complained dur- 
ing the summer of losing sheep and lambs, supposing them 
to have been taken by Mountain Lions, which had been 
seen in the vicinity.” 


As Seandinavian naturalists have so often spoken of the 
Glutton’s fondness for mutton, it is probable that the 


488 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


sheep-herder, in this case, could justly have charged part 


of his loss to the Wolverine. M. Hedberg tells us that 


three were captured young in the Parish of Gellivaara, in 
Lapland. ‘‘They were allowed their full liberty; but in 
the autumn, the servant having forgotten to fasten the 
door of the building wherein the sheep were confined, the 
Gluttons found their way into it and killed several sheep.” 

As before stated, the Wolverine is nocturnal in habit, 
and there are but few recorded instances of its having been 
seen during the day. An aged trapper once told me of 
having seen one in Pot-hole Valley, Colorado, one wintry 
day; and Mr. Lockhart, in Coues’ ‘‘ Fur-bearing Animals,”’ 
mentions two cases, in each of which the animal sat upon 
its haunches and shaded its eyes with a paw, the inference 
being that it could not see well in the sunlight. It does 
not hibernate, but in winter prosecutes its search for food 
with even more vigor than in summer, 

Examples coming within my own observation show the 
male and female to be equal in size. 


Without doubt, its most conspicuous habit is that of fol- 


lowing the trapper and destroying his wooden traps. To 
the Hudson’s Bay trapper, who was formerly unable to 
obtain poison and steel-traps, except at ruinous prices,* 
‘this was highly exasperating. Imagine the feelings of a 
man who has built, set, and baited one hundred and fifty 
traps, extending over a circuit of fifty miles, and who finds 
on his first visit, perhaps a week later, every one destroyed, 
the baits eaten, and the catch torn in pieces or carried away! 


* What these prices were, we are unable to say; but, if we may judge from an article in 
the February, 1890, Cosmopolitan Magazine, by J. Macdonald Oxley, the profits probably 
exceeded the conservative three per cent. of our Government. Note this: “There has been 


a wonderful change in values since the good old days in the early part. of this century. — 


When Fort Dunvegan was established, on the Peace River, near the Rockies, the regular 
price of a trade-musket was Rocky Mountain sables piled up on each side until they were 
level with its muzzle when held upright. Now, these sables were worth in England about 
three pounds apiece, while the cost of the musket did not exceed one pound.” 

While this practice may have been more satisfactory to the Indians than that of the 
early Hollanders, who are said to have used ‘‘the strong right hand” as a pound-weight 
when weighing peltry, the result was practically the same. Mr. Oxley further says: 
‘* These muskets came to be wofully long, in time.” If we suppose them to have been fifty 
inches long, and each hide to have occupied an inch of space, we have a gross profit of 
$1,495 on each musket! 


er ee 


2 ee oe 


THE WOLVERINE. 489 


Fortunately, there is nothing on record to show what these 
hardy adventurers said when thus irritated, though we can 
imagine it might sound better if told in an unknown 
tongue. Very often they would capture the destroyer of 
their equanimity and traps, but sometimes his cunning sur- 
passed their best efforts, and they would abandon their 
lines until their tormentor had found other pastures. 

The cunning, strength, and perseverance displayed by 
these animals, and which will be referred to further on, is 
so truly wonderful that we may well excuse the early writ- 
ers their exaggeration. The posts composing the back of 
the dead-fall were frequently pulled up and carried away, 
the small sticks destroyed, the logs scattered, the clogs to 
the steel-traps chewed in two, and the traps and contents 
carried for miles and buried in the snow. When Gulo 
luscus had taken the danger out of the contrivance, he 
would cheerfully eat the bait. By the way, this seems to 
be his idea of a practical joke. Alas! were he addicted to 
Latin and guava jelly, we might admit his instinct to reach ~ 
the borders of reason. 

For several reasons, he prefers to use, when traveling, the 
trails of the marten-trappers; his legs are short, the snow 
is deep, and often light, while his body is heavy. More- 
over, the wise old Carcajou appears to like the idea of 
matching the cunning of his would-be captor, knowing, 
probably from experience, just how and how not to get at 
the baits. . 

The Wolverine’s long nocturnal journeys, in deep snow, 
show his endurance, while his usual plethora is prima facie 
evidence of success in foraging. It is true he has a keener 
nose than the Fox; but how a carnivorous mammal so ener- 
getic as the Glutton can keep fat during the Arctic winters 
is considerable of a mystery. His fare during the snowy 
months is, generally speaking, limited to grouse and rab- 
bits, and various fur-bearing animals, which he generally 
steals after they have been trapped. Richardson says: ‘I 
have seen one chasing an American hare which was at the 
same time harassed by a snowy owl.’’ At long intervals, 


490 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


our poacher finds the carcass of a large animal, when for a 
time he lives luxuriously. In summer he fares much 
better; mice, moles, marmots, rabbits, and Foxes are then 
dug from their burrows, while his keen nose directs him 
to all the carrion in his neighborhood. He also preys upon 
nesting birds, particularly water-fowl, and their eggs; and 
some writers have added decaying fish to his warm weather 
bill of fare. Judging from his ferocity and strength, it is 
probable that he also preys upon both young and disabled 
Deer. Buffon, I believe, is responsible for the statement 
that it isa common practice of the animal to lie secreted 
near Beaver-ponds, and pounce upon the unsuspecting 
laborers when they come ashore. Of one he had caged, he 
speaks as follows: ‘‘ His voracity has been much exagger- 
ated; he ate indeed a great deal, but when deprived of food 
he was not importunate. He is rather wild, avoids water, 
and moves with a kind of leap. After eating, he covers 
himself in the cage with straw. In drinking, he laps like 
a dog. If indulged, he would devour more than four 
pounds of flesh in a day. He is almost perpetually in 
motion.”’ 

Audubon thus describes one he saw in Denmark, which 
had been exhibited two years: ‘‘ We took him out of his 
cage; he was very gentle, opened his mouth to enable us to 
examine his teeth, and buried his head in our laps while 
we admired his long claws and felt his woolly feet. He 
seemed pleased to escape from the confinement of the cage, 
ran around us in short circles, and made awkward attempts 
to play with and caress.us. He had been taught to sit on 
his haunches and hold in his mouth a German pipe. We 
observed he was somewhat averse to the light of the sun, 
keeping his eyes half-closed when exposed to its rays. The 
keeper informed us that he suffered a good deal from the 
heat in warm weather. There was in the same cage a 


marmot, from the Alps, to which the Wolverine seemed — 


much attached.”’ 
It is customary with the Wolverine to pass the day, 


especially the hours of sunshine, in some subterranean 


ee ONE eT Ty ee ee ee ee ee ne 


EE ee ee en a ee ee ee eee a 


THE WOLVERINE. 491 


cavity, usually the one in which he makes his home. He 

does not litter his den with a surplusage of food, but 
chooses to bury it elsewhere, invariably leaving unsavory 
evidence of his visit above his treasures to conceal them 
from the Fox or other inquisitive prowler. The bed is 
ordinarily a large heap of leaves. 

Each year, in June, the female gives birth to her young, 
which she protects until the following winter, when they 
are forced to provide for themselves. A naturalist, who 
lived four years in the spruce-forest country lying between 
the southern prairies and polar barrens of British America, 
informs me that the litter consists of two-—usually a male 

-andafemale. This, coming from a close observer, together 
with the general belief of northern residents to the effect 
that Wolverines are found in pairs throughout a greater 
part of the year, naturally leads one to believe the species 
-monogamous; but, on the other hand, Mr. L. Lloyd informs 
us that four young Gluttons were seen together on a stone 
in a rapid, fishing for grayling. Excellent authorities also 
unite in asserting that the litter may consist of four; and, 
despite the aforementioned belief, I am of the opinion that 
the Wolverine is oftener found alone than in pairs. The 
rutting-season is believed to be early in March. They utter 
no cry or call at any time when undisturbed, though when 
attacked they give vent to their rage in growls. 

They sometimes climb rough and soft barked trees, in 
quest of food previously located by their keen powers of 
scent, but never to escape from alone enemy. For similar 
reasons, they also swim rivers. When transported to hot 
countries, they show no aversion to water, but rather seek 
it as a means of reducing their temperature. 

The rather heavy body and short legs of the Wolverine 
convey an idea of clumsiness and aslothful pace. Like the 
stove-pipe hat, which is laid away through sprinting—that 
sport and dignity being at variance—so is the Wolverine 
often brought to grief through an untimely pride or bra- 
yvado; but do not try to catch him when once he has con- 
cluded that safety lies just over the next mountain chain; 


492 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA. 


for you will surely fail. A Manitoba friend is with me in 
this assertion, and further confirmation comes from an inci- 
dent which happened during an outing in the summer of 
1888. At the time, my companion was hunting Deer in 
Rock Creek Cafion, Egeria Park, Colorado, and upon com- 
ing to camp, told of having seen a strange animal, at 
dusk, which ran through the scattering quaking aspens 
with such speed that he was unable to bring his rifle to 
bear upon it. When he described the animal, we became 
certain that he had seen a Wolverine. 

At this date, there is practically no market value upon 
the skins. The very few which reach Colorado buyers sell. 
at from six to eight dollars each; those fit for mounting 
commanding the best figures. Formerly, they were consid-_ 
ered nearly worthless in commerce, as is evinced by the — 
_ post-traders intrusting many of those bought at low prices 
to the care of certain Indians, who traded them to distant 
tribes for salable peltry. -As the possession of a skin 
marked the owner as a skillful trapper, and the middle- 
men received liberal commissions, considerable trading of 
this kind was done; the skins finally finding their way to 
the trading-stations again whenever the wants of poor Lo 
were great. | 

The Cree Indians, who have the best opportunities for 
studying the breeding-habits of this species, say the mother 
boldly defends her young when molested by man or beast. 
Unless provided with some means of defense, the Indians 
avoid the mother at this time, notwithstanding the state- 
ment of Johnson to the effect that the Wolverine flees from 
the face of man, and that he requires no other arm than a 
stick to kill it. Though a suitable green club would surely 
win, a large majority of hunters would prefer a weapon of 
longer range, and favor pitting the chances of a miss or a 
misfire against that of being disrobed in an animated 
set-to, in a frigid country, where the clothing-stores are 
often two hundred miles apart. 

A curious trait of this animal is the suspicion with which 
it at first regards anything that has been touched by the 


THE WOLVERINE. 493 


hand of man, and the pertinacity it shows, after one day 
for deliberation, in gaining possession of it. Mr. P. De 
Graff, of New York, who passed one winter in the Peace 
River country, has this to say concerning this peculiarity: 
‘‘The Carcajou must be very hungry indeed if he will 
touch a baited trap the first night, and so it is with game 
left in the woods. About the time we built our camp, I 
killed a Moose, and hung the head ona branch of a tree, 
out of the reach of wild animals. Some time afterward, 
I thought I would test what I had heard about this habit 
of the Carcajou, and knocked the head down after a fall of 
snow. Next day, I found a Carcajou had been within three 
feet of it, but had not touched it. Then I turned the head 
over, and the result was the same; but three days after this 
the head was gone. We did not consider the experiment 
conclusive, for we found that traps which had been set 
early in the morning sometimes contained a Carcajou next 
morning, but as we did not make a practice of visiting our 
traps every day, we could not always be sure about it; yet 
- we concluded that generally they were too suspicious to 
touch a trap as long as the scent of our tracks remained.” 
Mr. Ross, quoted in Coues’ ‘‘Fur-bearing Animals,”’ 
vouches for the following: ‘‘An instance occurred within 
my own knowledge in which a hunter and his family hav- 
ing left their lodge unguarded during their absence, on 
their return found it completely gutted—the walls were 
there, but nothing else. Blankets, guns, knives, kettles, 
axes, cans, and all the other paraphernalia of a trapper’s 
tent, had vanished, and the tracks left showed that a Wol- 
verine had been the thief. The family set to work, and by 
carefully following up all his paths, recovered, with some 
trifling exceptions, the whole of the lost property.” 
Steel-traps and dead-falls are commonly used in the 
capture of the Wolverine, although when he has once 
‘escaped from a trap, or been frightened by the fall of a log, 
some other means must be devised for his subjection. In 
time they even become suspicious of poisons which have no 
taste or smell, and it is the same with castorewm or any 


494 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


other far-reaching odor when used asalure. The surviv- 


ors in each district somehow learn to associate the death of — 


their congeners with the thing habitually used to destroy, 
and thus become world-wise in a degree highly distressing 
to the trappers. When ordinary means have failed, a 
quadrangular trap of heavy logs, having the appearance of 
a cache, will usually succeed. In these contrivances the 
bait is buried or concealed, and steel-traps covered with 
snow or leaves often placed therein. Touching this, I quote 
from Mr. De Graff's letter: 

‘*T caught a troublesome Carcajou that winter in this 
way: I scoured a heavy steel-trap, and set it, and then 
hung it in a tree until the odor from handling it had disap- 
peared. Then I dug away the snow, and piled it in a hard 
bank around the spot. The bait was put in one corner, and 
the trap, by the use of a stick, in the center. Then I cov- 
ered them over, and laid small logs across the top of the 
bank, on top of which I piled snow and rubbish two feet 
deep. It worked likea charm, and I got the beast the first 
time I made my rounds.’ 

That my readers may. know why the Wolverine is re- 
garded by many as an ‘insatiable glutton, a blood-thirsty 
demon, and a prowling monster,’’ I will quote briefly from 
some attractive but not wholly reliable works at hand— 
such as were often given us in boyhood by well-meaning 
parents or friends. 

‘The Glutton,’’ says Mr. Lloyd, ‘‘approaches his prey 
with caution, crawling toward it till within a short distance, 
and then, with a few sudden springs, pounces upon it. He 
is very destructive to the wild Reindeer, particularly in the 
winter; for when these animals are necessitated partially to 
bury their heads in the snow, for the purpose of getting 
lichens and other vegetable substances lying below, he is 
enabled to approach them with facility. When once seized 
by the blood-thirsty beast, it is in vain that the wounded 
Deer endeavors to disengage itself from its enemy by rush- 
ing among the surrounding trees; no force can oblige him 
to quit his hold; he maintains his position, and continues 


i aan aed 


THE WOLVERINE. “495 


to suck the blood of the flying victim till it falls down 
exhausted with pain and fatigue. When the Glutton has 
captured a large animal, he hides the carcass, after having 
satisfied his present hunger, in the cleft of a rock orina 
thick brake, carefully covered with moss if in an exposed 
place. Even the upper part of a tree serves him for a 
larder, so that the Fox may not have access to the good 
things.”’ 

Bingley, in 1870, spoke of the Glutton in a similar 
strain: ‘‘ We are informed that they climb into trees in the 
neighborhood of herds of Deer, and carry along with them 
a considerable quantity of a kind of moss to which the Deer 
are partial. As soon as any of the herd happens to 
approach the tree, the Glutton throws down the moss. If 
the Deer stops to eat, the Glutton instantly darts upon its 

_back, and, after fixing himself firmly between the horns, 
tears out its eyes, which torments the animal to such a 
degree that, either to end its torments or to get rid of its 
cruel enemy, it strikes its head against the trees till it falls 
down dead.”’ 

Pontoppidan, while correcting a belief of his time as to 
the Wolverine being the third cub of a Bear, tells us this: 
‘‘A friend of mine, a man of probity, has assured me, from 
ocular demonstration, that when the Glutton is caught alive 
(which seldom happens), and is chained to a stone wall, his 
hunger does not decline the stones and mortar, but he will 
eat himself into the wall... . . . By the practice of 
squeezing between two trees, he exonerates his stomach, 
which has not time to digest what he has so voraciously 
devoured.”’ 

Bingley gives a good description of the Wolverine. He 
had evidently received trustworthy information from Brit- 
ish American sources, though seemingly he did not suspect 
the Wolverine and Glutton to be identical. His statement, 
on information, relating to a Wolverine which upset the 
greater part of a wood-pile, more than seventy yards in cir- 
cumference, to get at some provisions hidden in the center, 
is generally considered too heavy for discussion, though I 


496 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


believe the animal would win could we find some way to 
reduce the size of the wood-pile about one-half. 

Cuvier, Hearne, Griffith, and nearly all the Old World 
writers, also fell into the error of supposing the Glutton 
and Wolverine to differ in form and character. 

Coues has critically compared the European Glutton with 
examples from the United States and the British Posses- 
sions, and finding only such differences as frequently occur 
in specimens from any given locality, modestly concludes 
in the following language: “‘‘ The identity of the animals of 
the two continents is to be considered fairly established, 
whatever range of variation in size and color either may 
present.”’ 

Previous to the construction of the Canadian Pacific 
Railway, nearly everyone who had written more than a few 
lines upon the habits of this animal, had gladly accepted 
whatever they could get from the courteous officers of the 
Hudson’s-Bay Company, who, in turn, were usually obliged 
to get their information from the Indians and white trap- 
pers of that region. While it may now seem an easy matter 
to testify to the correctness of this hearsay evidence, it 
should be remembered that no one man can do so from per- 
sonal experience; that many of the Hudson’s Bay posts no 
longer exist; that the home of the Wolverine is still hun- 
dreds of miles north of the railroad; that the most desira- 
ble points have only one mail a year, and that in that 
sparsely settled region the few competent to furnish infor- 
mation are either unknown to the outside world or do not 
wish to trouble themselves for the advancement of science 
alone. Under these conditions, verification has been dif- 
ficult; and we may well forgive the exaggeration of the 
earlier writers, while quoting from Pope in my own behalf: 


“Tf Iam right, Thy grace impart 
Still in the right to stay; 
If Iam wrong, oh, teach my heart 
To find the better way.” 


From a mass of manuscript relating to the fauna of 
the North, collected by the Smithsonian Institution in times 


THE WOLVERINE. | 497 


past, Elliott Cones selected and embodied in his exhaustive 
article the matter he considered reliable and best calculated 
to show the nature of this wonderful animal. Some of 
these entertaining passages I give, adding a few anecdotes 
from other reliable sources, which it is hoped will prove 
interesting reading. 

- “The winter I passed at Fort Simpson,’ writes Mr. 
- Lockhart, “‘I had a line of marten and Fox traps and Lynx- 
snares extending as far as Lac de Brochet. Visiting them 
on one occasion, I found a Lynx alive in one of my snares, 
and being indisposed to carry it so far home, determined to 
kill and skin it before it should freeze. But how to cache 
the skin till my return? This was a serious question, for 
Carcajou tracks were numerous. Placing the carcass, as a 
decoy, in a clump of willows at one side of the path, I 
went some distance on the opposite side, dug a hole with 
my snow-shoe (about three feet deep) in the snow, packed 
the skin in the smallest possible compass, and put it in the 
bottom of the hole, which I filled up again very carefully— 
packing the snow down hard, and then strewing loose snow 
over the surface till the spot looked as if it had never been 
disturbed. I also strewed blood and entrails in the path 
and around the willows. Returning next morning, I found 
that the carcass was gone, as I expected it would be, but 
that the place where the skin was cached was apparently 
undisturbed. ‘Ah, you rascal!’ said I, addressing aloud 
the absent Carcajou, ‘I have outwitted you for once.’ I 
lighted my pipe, and proceeded leisurely to dig up the skin 
to place in my muskimoot. I went clear down to the 
ground, on this side and on that, but no Lynx-skin was 
there. The Carcajou had been there before me, and had 
carried it off along with the carcass; but he had taken the 
pains to fill up the hole again and make everything as 
smooth as before. 

‘At Peel’s River, on one occasion, a very old Carcajou 
discovered my marten-road, on which I had nearly a hun- 
dred and fifty traps. I was in the habit of visiting the line 


about once a fortnight, but the beast fell into the way of 
32 


498 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


coming oftener than I did—to my great annoyance and vex- 
ation. I determined to put a stop to his thieving and his 
life together, cost what it might; so I made six strong 
traps at as many different points, and also set three steel- 
traps. For three weeks I tried my best to catch the beast, 
without success; and my worst enemy would allow that I 
am no green hand in these matters. The animal carefully 
avoided the traps set for his own benefit, and seemed to be 
taking more delight than ever in demolishing my marten- 
traps and eating the martens—scattering the poles in every 
‘ direction, and caching what baits or martens he did not 
devour on the spot. As we had no poisons in those days, I 
next set a gun on the bank of a little lake. The gun was 
concealed in some low bushes, but the bait was so placed 
that the Carcajou must see it on his way up the bank. I 
blockaded my path to the gun with a small pine-tree, which 
completely hid it. On my first visit afterward, I found that 
the beast had gone up to the bait and smelled it, but had 


left it untouched. He had next pulled up the pine-tree ~ 


that blocked the path, and gone around the gun and eut the 
line which connected the bait with the trigger, just behind 
the muzzle. Then he had gone back and pulled the 
bait away, and carried it out on the lake, where he laid 
down and devoured it at his leisure. There I found my 
string. : 

‘‘T could scarcely believe that all this had been done 
designedly, for it seemed that faculties fully on a par with 
human reason would be required for such an exploit, if 
done intentionally. I therefore re-arranged things, tying 
the string where it had been bitten, but the result was 
exactly the same'on three successive occasions, as I could 
plainly see by the foot-prints; and what is most singular of 
all, each time the brute was careful to cut the line a little 
back of where it had been tied before, as if actually reason- 
ing with himself that even the knots might be some new 
device of mine, and therefore a source of hidden danger he 
would prudently avoid. I came to the conclusion that that 
Carcajou ought to live, as he must be something at least 


oa ie Cr, EE Nie ice eet a Se ee 


THE WOLVERINE. 499 


human, if not more. I gave it up, and abandoned the road 
for a period. 

**On another occasion, a Carcajou amused himself by 
tracking my line from one end to the other, and demolish- 
ing my traps as fast as I could set them. I puta large 
steel-trap in the middle of a path that branched off among 
some willows, spreading no’ bait, but risking the chance 
that the animal would ‘put his foot in it’ on his way to 
break a trap at the end of a path. On my next visit, I 
found that the trap was gone, but I noticed the blood and 
entrails of a hare that had evidently been caught in the 
trap, and devoured by the Carcajou on the spot. Examin- 
ing his foot-prints, I was satisfied that he had not been 
caught, and I took up his trail. 

‘**Proceeding about a mile through the woods, I came to 
a small lake, on the banks of which I recognized traces of 
the trap, which the beast had laid down while he went a 
few steps to one side.’ He had then returned and picked 
up the trap, which he had carried across the lake, with 
many a twist and turn on the hard crust of snow to mislead 
his expected pursuer, and then again entered the woods. I 
followed for about half a mile farther, and then came toa 
large hole dug in the snow. This place, however, seemed 
not to have suited him, for there was notliing there. A 
few yards farther on, however, I found a neatly built 
mound of snow on which the animal had left his mark; this 
I knew was his cache. Using one of my snow-shoes for 
a spade, I dug into the hillock and down to the ground, the 
snow being about four feet deep; and there I found my trap, 
with the toes of a rabbit still in the jaws. Could it have 
been the animal’s instinctive impulse to hide prey that made 
him carry my trap so far merely for the morsel of meat 
still held in it? Or did his cunning nature prompt him 
to hide the trap, for fear that on some future occasion 
he might put his own toes in it and share the rabbit's 
fate?”’ 

Coues also selects the following from Captain Cart- 
wright’s journal: ‘‘In coming to the foot of Table Hill, I 


500 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


crossed the track of a Wolverine with one of Mr. Calling- 
ham’s traps on his foot; the Foxes had followed his bleed - 
ing track. As this beast went through the thick of the 
woods, under the north side of the hill, where the snow was 
so deep and light that it was with the greatest difficulty I 
could follow him, even on Indian rackets, I was quite 
puzzled to know how he had contrived to prevent the trap 
from catching hold of the branches of trees, or sinking in 
the snow. But on coming up with him, I discovered how 
he had managed; for after making an attempt to fly at me, 
he took the trap in his mouth and ran upon three legs. 
These creatures are surprisingly strong in proportion to 
their size; this one weighed only twenty-six pounds, and 
the trap eight, yet, including all the turns he had taken, he 
had carried it six miles.” 

The Earl of Southesk, in ‘‘Saskatchewan,’’ has this to 
say of his experience with the Wolverine, at Fort Pelly, on 
December 11, 1859: : 

‘‘A few nights ago, Mr. Murray heard his dog barking 
incessantly for no apparent reason. Happening next morn- 
ing to open a half-finished store-house, the dog rushed 


furiously in, but came out again with still greater quick-. 


ness, upon which his master looked into the shed, and 
there beheld the cause of the disturbance in the shape of 
a Wolverine, who, after his nocturnal prowlings, had taken 
refuge in this convenient hiding-place. The beast was 
slowly retreating, with his face to the door through which 
the dog had entered; but an ounce of shot soon tamed his 


courage by ending his life. . . . No beast is so cunning 
as the Wolverine—the Fox is a sucking dove compared to 
him. . . . Where he haunts, it is useless to store meat 


on stages, for, Beaver-like, he cuts through great trees 
with his teeth, and soon brings down any edifice of wood. 
His courage is dauntless; he flies neither from man nor 
beast, and woe to the dog that comes within reach of his 
jaws.”’ | 

In the ensuing description of a cache, in ‘‘Ocean to 
Ocean,’ by the Rev. G. M. Grant, the above-mentioned 


PROMI N bei io a pl lst wid 


THE WOLVERINE. 501 


phopeaatty of the patmial for tree-cutting is again hinted at, 
as well as his keenness of scent: 

‘* Brown advised that, as this was a good place, some 
provisions be cached for those of the party who were to 
return from Jasper’s; and Valad selecting a site in the 
greenwood, he and Beaupré went off to it from the oppo- 
site direction, with about twenty-five pounds of pemmican 
and flour, tied up first in canvas and then in oil-skin, as 
the Wolverine—most dreaded plunderer of caches—dislikes 
the smell of oil. Selecting two suitable pine-trees in the 
thick wood, they skinned (barked) them to prevent animals 
from climbing; then placing a pole between the two, some 
eighteen feet from the ground, they hung a St. Andrew’s 
cross of two small sticks from the pole, and suspended 
their bag from the end of one, that the least movement, or 
even puff of wind, would set it swinging. Such a cache 
Valad guaranteed against bird and beast of whatever 
-kind.”’ 

Whether his guarantee held good, or whether the Wol- 
verine, disregarding the cross and defying the ingenuity 
of the voyageurs, plundered the cache, the historian does 
not state. 


THE WILDCAT. 


By DanreL ARROWsMITH (‘‘ SANGAMON”). 


Ay HIS animal is common to the whole of the Middle 
and Western United States; but it is not nearly so 
plentiful now as formerly, when those States were 

3 comparatively a wilderness. At present, it is only 
found in broken, hilly, rocky, brushy, and thinly settled 
districts. | 

In size, the Wildcat is about two and one-half feet in 
length, fifteen inches in height at the shoulders, and weighs 
from twenty to thirty pounds. It is of a dark brindle- 
gray color on the back and down to mid-sides; the ground- 
color becomes lighter as it approaches the belly; the lower 
sides and belly are covered with round, black spots, edged 
or circled with a yellowish hue. These spots are from the 
size of a hickory-nut, on the sides, to that of a small pea on 
the belly. 

The tail is about four inches long, and has a curtailed, 
stumpy appearance. The eyes and ears are large, the 
former being about the size of those of the great horned 
owl, and bearing a striking resemblance to them; the feet, 
about the size of those of the Gray Fox, and armed with 
strong, hooked, and very sharp claws, which are concealed 
when at rest, as is the case with all Felidae. 

The whole body is covered with a dense fur, somewhat 
longer than that of the house-cat, to which, in fact, he 
bears a striking resemblance in body and form; but the 
Wildcat is about two and one-half times as large as the 
largest ‘*Tom’’ of our domestic cats. 

The Wildcat dens in clefts of rocks, and old hollow logs, 
and preys upon birds, rabbits, and other small animals, 


being particularly destructive to young pigs. One pair of 
( 508 ) 


504 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


these ‘‘varmints’’ has been known to destroy a whole lit- 
ter of from eight to ten pigs ina single night. They will 
steal up to a hog-bed, spring into it, snatch up a pig and 
make their escape almost before the old sow is aware of 
their presence. They generally go in pairs—male and 
female; and where you find one, you may certainly count 
on the other being near. 

The rutting-season of this Cat is from the middle of 
December to the middle of January, and they drop their 
young—of which there are from three to six—from about 
the middle to the last of March. During the love-making 
season, they are not unlike the domestic Thomas and Maria 
in making night in the woods and hills hideous with their 
ear-splitting screams and caterwauls. 

The Wildcat is a savage fighter. An old Tom can stand 
off a whole pack of common dogs, and indeed it takes a 
very resolute dog to seize and kill one; for while the dog is 
worrying him, he is getting in his work on the dog, in a 
most lively and vigorous manner, with teeth and toe-nails. 
About this time, one can safely wager that there is some 
hair flying. 

The most successful method of hunting these animals is 
to start them up with the Fox-hound, before which they 
make a good, exciting run of from one to two hours; and in | 
this run they are as cunning to dodge and double as Rey- 
nard. But when close pressed, they will take to a tree, 
from which they can easily be shot. 

They are often caught in steel-traps. While residing in 
Southwest Missouri, I knew a boy who caught eight or ten, 
during the winter of 1867-68, by building in the woods, with 
small poles, a pen, in which he placed some old live 
roosters, and covered the pen so as to protect them. He 
then placed steel-traps along each side of the outside of the 
pen. The crowing of the old cocks would attract the 
attention of any Wildcat that was near, and lure him to 
the pen; and in his endeavors to get at the chickens, he 
would get a foot into a trap, and then fall an easy victim to 
‘*Bent’’ Shelton’s old musket in the morning. 


THE WILDCAT. 505 


My first introduction to this variety of sport was late in 
the fall of 1868, while on a hunting-trip in Cass County, 
Missouri. One night, there came a light fall of snow. The 
next morning, by the time it was light, I was in the woods, 
near a large, open prairie-bottom about one and a half miles 
long by half a mile wide. This bottom lay on the south side 


: of Grand River, just below the mouth of Pony Creek. I 


was looking for Deer, as this region was at that time a 
famous place for both Deer and wild turkeys. Wolves, 
’Coons, Wildcats, and other ‘‘varmints’’ abounded. It 
being but a short time after the close of the great fratri- 
cidal strife that agitated our country, during which there 
- was a general let-up in the hunting of the natural fauna of 
the woods and prairies, these animals had multiplied and 
were abundant. I had just come out, and was standing 
inside the brush, on a little ridge just above the bottom, 
when I sawa large buck coming out of the woods some 
eighty yards below me. I bleated for him to stop, and on 
his doing so, fired and shot him through, but too far back 
- to down him at once. Upon being struck, he plunged off 
down into the bottom, and was soon lost to sight in the tall © 
‘*rail,”’ or slough-grass, with which this part of the bottom 
was covered. 

Reloading my rifle, I took up his trail and struck out 
after him, hoping to soon find him dead. Getting out. into 
the long grass, I almost stepped on a large doe, which 
bounded up; and by the time she made her second jump, I 
put a bullet through her, and laid her out. At the crack of 
my rifle, up bounded two tremendous bucks that had been 
lying some twenty feet ahead of me, and made off through 
the high grass. After noting the place, so as to have no 
trouble in finding my dead Deer, I went on and tried to 
trail up my wounded buck. Because of the lightness of the 
fall of snow which here lay upon the high grass, it was 
difficult trailing. The sun coming up clear and warm, soon 
melted the snow, so I gave it up as a hard job. I then went 
across to the timber which lay along the river, and fol- 
lowed it down to the eastern or lower point of the open 


506 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


bottom, and had just turned to go back up to where my 
dead doe lay, when I heard a pack of Fox-hounds open out 
in full ery on some high, brushy, and rocky points at the 
extreme upper end of the bottom through which I had just 
been hunting. 

A loud ‘‘whoop-ee”’ told me that a chase of some kind 
was on hand. The hounds seemed to be coming down 
through the north side of the little prairie. I concluded 
they had jumped a Deer; and in hopes of getting in a shot, 
I slipped on up the south side of the bottom to a narrow 
point of timber which jutted out into it, and there took a 
stand to await developments. I soon saw some five or six 
horsemen scatter out and take favorable positions for 
shooting; two of them on my side of the bottom, the rest 
on the river side. 

The hounds were discoursing some lively music, and 
running rapidly, keeping well out in the high grass. I soon 
found that it was not a Deer they were chasing, for had it 
been, I could have seen it bounding through and over the 
grass. Iwas satisfied on this point. The hounds, after run- 
ning the entire length of the bottom, were thrown off the 


trail for perhaps ten minutes. They then tacked about and — 


started back up through nearly the center of the strip, 
making the woods fairly ring with their musical notes. 

I walked up to the nearest horseman, whom I found to 
be ‘‘ Bart’? Holderman. Hesaid that he, his brother Billy, 
George Pulliam, and the Stephens boys were out after 
Cats, and that the hounds were now making it hot for 
one of the critters. This. being a new game to me, I 
determined to see it, and be in at the death if possible. 
After a run of perhaps three-quarters of an hour, during 
which the quarry doubled some two or three times, they 
finally overhauled and brought it to bay, on the ground in 
the high grass, about one hundred yards from the timber, 
and some two hundred yards above our stand. We struck 
out at our best gait for the scene of combat, and there, in 
the center of a small area, where the grass had been 
knocked down by the hounds in the scufile, lay, on its 


Te Seen a, ee 


THE WILDCAT. 507 


back, one of the fiercest-looking animals, for its size, that I 
had ever seen. It seemed that when the hounds had over- 
taken it, they had seized it, and, in turn, had been forced 
to let go, and get out of reach of its teeth and sharp 
claws. 

This was plainly evident from the bloody marks on their 
heads, necks, and sides: The more resolute dogs, on being 
urged, would spring forward to get a hold; but with a fierce 
**spit’’ of rage and a swift stroke of the paw, the brute 
would send them flying back out of its reach. The boys 
had all come riding up except two, one of whom was Pul- 
liam, who was farthest away when the Cat was overtaken. 
He soon showed up, too, and with him was his large, ugly, 
_ dark brindle-colored dog, named Stump—a regular “ var-: 
mint dog’?—a combination of meat-ax and bull, whose 
tail had been discounted fifty, twenty-five, and ten per cent. ; 
hence his name. His chief and only reputation was that 
he would fight to the death with any varmint, no matter 
what were the odds. With the boys, on occasions like this, 
he was a necessary adjunct, and the main stand-by. 

As soon as Bart saw George coming, he called to him to 
hurry up with old Stump. 

‘*Here, Stump, here, here, whoop-ee!’’ 

All this time, the baying of the hounds—eight of them 
_—together with the cheers of the hunters, made a most 
deafening racket. Old Stump, guided alone by the noise, 
soon put in an appearance, and was not loath to lay hold, 
notwithstanding the severe punishments he had in former 
times and on similar occasions received, one of which was the 
loss of an ear, which had either been clawed or chewed off 
so close to his head that the remnant resembled the upper 
section of a coarse-toothed buzz-saw; and of the other, but 
little more remained, and that pretty well split up. He 
seemed to know just what was expected of him. Witha 
growl and a rush, he seized the Cat across the breast, just 
below the arms, crushed and shook itas a ratter would a rat, 
and soon took all the fight ont of it. Nosooner had he laid 
hold than in rushed the other dogs, only to get a further 


508 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


touch of terrible punishment from the feet of the Cat in its - 


dying struggles. , 

On another occasion, a gentleman by the name of Har- 
rison, and myself, with a pair of Fox-hound puppies belong- 
ing to him, started and put up, after a two-hours’ run, a 
large male Cat. A four-inch snow lay on the ground; the 
day was still and clear, and quite warm—a fine day for the 
sport. We came across the tracks of the animal where it 
had been rustling around on the previous night. Putting 
the puppies on the trail, we soon jumped him from some 
large rocks where he had been lying, sunning himself. In 
the run that followed, he tried his doubling tactics four or 
five times; but we being well mounted, and there being no 
fences to bother us, kept close to the puppies, and would 
put them to ‘‘rights’’ when the Cat would attempt its 
dodges. We also had with us a Greyhound. When, after_ 
about two hours’ chasing, this Greyhound got sight of the 
quarry, we witnessed some tall running for about two hun- 
dred yards. Then the old ‘‘Tom’’ ran up a shell-bark 
hickory-tree, and ensconced himself in a body-crotch about 
. forty feet above the ground. From this perch, Harrison | 
tumbled him ont, dead, with a load of buckshot from an 
old Harper’s Ferry musket which he carried. This Wildcat 
was the largest of the species I ever saw, and would have 
cleaned out, in a fair fight, all three of our dogs. 


Peg tte. Peed ~. 
si EE Me ae ta I 
Sa i a i a v 


‘ 
ce ee ne sal ati ite 


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— <. 
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> 


IN AT THE DEATH, 


°COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. 


By DANIEL ARROWSMITH (‘‘ SANGAMON ”). 


HE Raccoon is found throughout the whole of the 
United States and the southern parts.of British 

rg America. It is one of the smaller species of the 
Plantigrade, or Bear tribe, and is about three feet 

in length from nose to tip of tail, the latter being about 


ten inches long. The body is covered with a long, dense. 


coat of dark-brown fur, the outer tips of a grayish color. 
The tail has five black rings of coarse fur, some two 
inches apart, and the tip is black. The animal when in 
full flesh, in late autumn, weighs from fifteen to twenty-five 
pounds—some few specimens exceeding the latter figure by 
a few pounds. 

The Raccoon is one of the valuable fur-bearing animals 
of North America. In the early settlement of the Missis- 
sippi Valley States, when money was scarce, the ’Coon-skin 
passed as current funds, and was usually valued at twenty- 
five cents. 

The Raccoon is a nocturnal animal. It scarcely ever 
shows itself during the day-time, but lies coiled up in the 
upper hollow of some old, decaying tree, and then comes 
forth after night-fall to rustle for its food. 

It is omnivorous. In the spring and early summer, it 
feeds on craw-fish, frogs, birds, and eggs, and will make 
frequent visits to the hen-roosts of the farmer. It also eats 
berries, wild grapes, acorns, and corn, of which it is as fond 
as a hog. It frequents the corn-fields from the time of 


‘roasting-ears until the corn is all gathered. On such food, 


it becomes exceedingly fat, and when in this condition, 


makes a splendid roast for the table. 
( 509 ) 


OA DONS. ia GPR 


BS ROLF SA Re ED, A 


510 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


Like the Black Bear, the ’Coon hibernates during the 
cold storms of winter; but should the weather be open, he 
will be out every night. 

Their rutting-season is from about the 20th of January 
to the middle of February, and they bring forth, about the 
1st of April, from three to six young. 

The Raccoon is easily taken in steel-traps; and to be 
successful in their capture, the trap should always be set 
under water, near the edges of swamps or running streams. 
But the best sport to be had in their capture is to hunt 


fet 
4 


Raccoon. 


them in the night, with dogs trained for the purpose. The 
best dog for this sport is the black-and-tan Fox-hound. 

It has been asserted that the ’Coon leaves the least foot- 
scent of any known animal; but I beg leave to differ from 
those who make this assertion. He is a night traveler, at a 
time of the twenty-four hours when the temperature is the 
lowest; while animals like the Fox, the rabbit, or the Deer, . 
are generally chased during the day, when the temperature 
is higher. Take a Fox-hound and put him, in the early 
part of the day, when the temperature is rising, on a ’Coon- 
trail which was made in the early part of the previous 


>COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. 511 


night, and he will invariably trail the ’Coon to where it has 
holed-up for the day. This, with my hounds, I have 
repeatedly done; and I have seen it done by hounds owned 
by others. : 

During the winter of 1864-65, I saw a Fox-hound bitch, 
owned by Mr. Henry Fry, trail and tree Raccoons at mid- 
day which had been running the previous night, there 
being a ten-inch snow that had been on the ground for 
some time. The warm sun during the day had softened 
the snow, and at night it had frozen hard enough to form 
a crust sufficiently firm to bear up even a dog; and it 
being the rutting-season, the ‘Coons were out on their 
amorous trips every night, racing around, when the crust 
would bear them. 

On the following day, Fry and myself would take our 
axes and his hound into the woods, and just so soon as the 
warm rays of the sun would soften the snow-crust, making 
it damp. she would, on coming to where a ’Coon had been, 
take its trail and follow it to the tree up which it had gone, 
and in an upper hollow of which it was then ensconced. 
We would then cut the tree down and get the ’Coon. 
Sometimes we would get two out of the same hollow. It 
is not the ‘‘cold foot’? of the ’Coon, but the time of 
the night or the day in which it has left its trail, that 
hinders or aids the dog in following it. This is why the 
best nights for ’Coon-hunting are when the wind is from 
the south. 


‘Hark! Listen! What noise is that, away off in the 
Old Town woods?’’ was asked, by a recent arrival in this 
region, of a resident friend with whom he was riding along 
the road skirting the above-named woods, one dark night 
in November. They halted their horses, when ‘‘ Boo-woo- 
ouh!”’ ‘*Youck! youck! youck!’’ ‘‘ Whoop-ee!’’ came 
floating to their ears, on the gentle southwest breeze, from 
the dark and lonely forest. 

‘*Oh,”’ answers his companion, ‘‘ that’s Fry and Arrow- 
smith, out with their hounds after a ’Coon.”’ 


512 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


‘‘After a ’Coon this time of night? Is that the way to 
hunt Coons? Certainly, there can’t be much sport in tramp- 
ing through the dark woods on such a night as this. Why 
not hunt them in the day-time?”’ 

Poor, unappreciative fellow, who has never known the 
fun of racing through the dark aisles of the forest, falling 
over twisted roots or rotten logs, dodging under low, out- 
stretched limbs, keeping time to the enlivening music of a 
dozen hounds in full ery! Yes, and how well would either 
of us like to have him with us, to initiate him by losing 
him and leaving him to keep up with us as best he could! 
The latter he would be compelled, under the circumstances, 
to do; for it would be worse than useless for him to under- 
take to find his way, unaided, out of these dark, wild 
woods, to light. and civilization. A few brier-scratches, a 
slight rent or two in his coat, or a few beggar-lice adhering 
to his garments, would go a long way toward taking all 
the taste for’Coon-hunting out of him. Many’s the time 
we have cooked such fellows. Once was enough; they 
wanted no more. 

But softly, my dear friend; before you condemn such 
sport, come with us, and enjoy the music of the woods 
after night-fall—the low, murmuring trill of the brooklet, 
the soft, gentle breeze in its whispers through the tops of 
the lofty oaks, the tall shell-bark hickories, the towering 
maples, and the wide-spreading elms; the silence broken 
occasionally by the ghostly ‘‘to-who-who-who-who-ah’”’ of 
the great horned owl, as he calls to his mate from his perch 
on the dead limb of some ancient monarch of the forest. 
The very stillness is of itself music to the ardent lover of 
Nature and Nature’s God. 

Silently we travel from point to point, guided, in our 
wanderings through the trackless woods, by the constella- 
tions of Orion, the great Northern Dipper, Ursus Major, 
and the Pleiades, whose silent tongues tell us our course. 

Just at dusk on a warm evening in early November, as a 
gentle breeze came up from the south, Henry Fry rode up 
to my gate, accompanied by his two black-and-tan hounds, 


-’COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. 513 


Drummer.and Blucher, and called to me to get my rifle and 
hounds, and come with him, for it was going to be a 
**boss’’? night for Coons. Having put his horse in the 
stable, I got my old Remington rifle and hunting-horn. 
On the latter I gave three blasts, to enthuse the hounds 
and make them keen for the sport, and we started for the 
woods. ; 

‘¢ Where shall we hunt to-night, Henry ?”’ I asked. 

‘¢ Well, as the moon don’t rise till late, and the fore part 
of the night will be dark, so that we can’t see so well to 
- shoot, we'd better strike for the Funk woods. Funk has 
reserved this tract for the special benefit of us ’Coon-hunt- 
ers. Here we are allowed to cut and carve. If the moon 
was up, we'd hunt along the edges of the timber, where they 
don’t allow chopping, for there we could shoot.”’ 

Funk’s woods was a tract of some six or seven hundred 
acres of the heaviest and best timber in the State, and 
owned by an old land speculator by the name of Funk. On 
it no chopping was allowed, save the cutting of ‘‘ bee-trees”’ 
and ‘‘’Coon-trees.”” Funk lived in a remote part of the 
county, therefore it would have been a huge undertaking 
to find out and prosecute trespassers, even had he wished 
todo so. — 

Soon after entering the woods, old Drummer opened 
up on a fresh trail, some two hundred yards ahead of us. 
Soon every hound responded to the deep, musical bell-tones 
of the old ‘‘ strike-dog,’”’ and joined him in hot haste, mak- 
ing ‘‘ the welkin ring.”” To all was given an encouraging 
‘*whoop-ee”’ by the hunters. 

The hounds for a few moments appeared to be at fault, 
which generally is the case on first striking a trail, no mat- 
ter how fresh it may be. This is due, perhaps, to the zig- 
zag course that the Raccoon generally travels in, especially 
if he be feeding under beech or burr-oaks, or in a corn-field. 
Now, however, they have straightened out:on the trail, and 
are taking it up fast and furious. The voice of each is 
easily distinguished from that of another.. Tenor, soft and 


deep bass are blended in melodious harmony, making the 
33 


514 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


dense woods fairly vibrate. They soon wake up the echoes 
of the far-off hills, as they speedily close up the distance 
between them and the old plantigrade, who is now begin- 
ning to realize that he is about ‘‘to be caught out in a hard 
shower,’’ and had best betake himself to shelter, which he 
does by sealing the largest tree within reach. He is none 
too soon, for the seemingly wild and furious demons, are 
already at the roots of the tree ere he has reached a place 
of concealment. ‘ 

‘ Finding that the Coon has gone up the tree, the tones of 
the hounds change from the musical bawl to sharp, defiant 
barks, plainly announcing the fact that they have treed, 
and need our assistance. An encouraging “ tally-ho’’ tells 
them we are coming. Now it is a blind race to the dogs— 
every fellow for himself—through brush, over fallen logs; 
stubbing our toes against grubs or twisted roots; bat- 
ting our heads against saplings that we didn’t, or perhaps 
couldn’t, see; or, if your course lay, for a time, in an old 
road, plunging from ankle-deep to knee-deep in water and 
mud. Such is the wild race, and no one is worse for the 
wear. Indeed, who ever heard of a real enthusiastic 
>Coon-hunter getting seriously hurt while marching on the 
double-quick to the exciting music of the hounds. No mat- 
ter how dark the night, or how many wild grape-vine tan- 
gles he may encounter, or how rough the ground he passes 
over, he lands at the tree, ‘‘top side up, with care,’’ every 
time. ree 

I once hit a young hunting-friend a severe blow, with the 
muzzle of a long, twelve-pound rifle, across the eyebrows, — 
felling him to the ground; but he claimed that ‘‘it didn’t 
hurt him a bit,’’ although his left eye was black for a week. 
We had put up a ’Coon with our hounds, one dark night, 
on a large, tall red oak, and had built a rousing fire 
near the roots of the tree, to keep us comfortable until day- 
light, when we would be able to locate and shoot the ’Coon. 
On the approach of daylight, I saw the old corn-stealer 
high up in the tree, and knew that from its position it 
was likely to fall, when shot, right into our fire. 


>COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. 515 


I told my friend to be ready to snatch it out should it 
fall there. He was standing just behind me from the fire, 
and at the crack of my rifle, sprung forward as I lowered it 
from my shoulder, and received a murderous blow. Never- 
theless, he regained his feet, and snatched the ’Coon up 
out of the embers as soon as it fell. I was well aware that 
such a blow did hurt, but he insisted that it did not; and 
since then I have had many a laugh at him aboutit. He 
was doubtless so excited at the time, over the securing of 
the game, that he didn’t feel the blow. ~ 

Fry and myself soon reached the point where our dogs 
were baying, found they had treed the ’Coon on a large 
sugar-maple, and soon located him, in a crotch pretty well 
up toward the top. A well-directed bullet soon brought 
him crashing through the branches to terra firma. 

After allowing our dogs to worry him a few moments, as 
a recompense for their chase, we stripped off his jacket, 
and started on for another chase. We soon reached the 
“deep woods of the Funk tract, when, far off to our left, 
we heard Bogus—a splendid, heavy, young hound belong- 
ing to the writer—give mouth to a long-drawn, deep, wail- 
ing tone. 

** A cold track,’’ said Henry. 

**'Yes; he’s come out early.”’ 

We gave a ‘“‘whoop him up, old fellow,” and almost 
immediately he was joined by others of the pack. Here 


they were delayed for some time. ‘‘ Let's go over to them 
and encourage them, and aid them in working it up,’’ was 
suggested. 

** All right.”’ 


The woods here being free from dense underbrush, we 
soon came to where the hounds were trying to unravel the 
trail, beneath some large burr-oaks, where there was an 
abundance of acorns on the ground. Here a ’Coon had 
been rustling around early in the evening, feeding on the 
oak-mast; had gone first in one direction and then in 
another, and had crossed and recrossed his tracks so often as 
to make it almost an impossibility for the dogs to follow him. 


516 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


The dogs were scattered about, endeavoring to decipher 
and solve the problem. One would mount a log; running 
along upon it, and scenting it closely, he would find where 
it had, in its course, crossed the log. Then he would throw 
his head high in air, and give vent to a long-drawn wail, 
when the other dogs would run to his aid, to take up, if 
possible, the trail 

‘* But where is old Drummer? He was here just before 
we came up.”’ ere 

This old hound, being up to the tricks of the Raccoon, 
had struck off to make a wide detour on the outside, and 
soon gave tongue, in a livelier tone, some one hundred and — 
fifty yards away, apparently leading toward a large swamp 
or pond near a field of corn. He was soon joined by the 
others of the pack; but the trail being cold, they could not 
move off on it much faster than we could walk. Having 
now got the general course the ’Coon had taken, they were 
not hindered much when at fault, but would strike out ina ~ 
half-circle in that direction, and soon strike it again. 

‘*Yes, he’s going for that pond, where he will play 
awhile, and then he’ll go over into that corn-field, where no 
doubt he now is,”’ said Fry. 

The hounds are working out his trail, and making good 
headway; but occasionally coming to some burr-oak or 
chinquapin, where the ’Coon had rambled awhile, they 
would follow his windings and then strike out again. 

The pond was reached. Here the’'game had meandered 
again. The dogs race back and forth through the shallow 
water, and give tongue wherever they can find the scent. 

‘‘Hark! Old Spring has found him! Just listen.” 

Sure enough. She had tired of the slow work of trailing 
him in detail, and had struck off into the corn-field. There 
in the dense corn, where the falling temperature could not 
so readily reach the ground, the track of the ’Coon was 
apparently fresh; and now it was a regular Sioux war-cry 
of ‘‘ Hi-yi-ki-yi,’’ in her fine voice. The other hounds hear- 
ing her, and realizing the situation, there was a perfect 
bedlam of hound-music. No time was lost in getting 


>COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. 517 


through and over the fence into the standing corn. Here, 
as well as in the woods, Master Plantigrade had made 
numerous and various windings, but the scent being strong, 
this did not seriously hinder the now excited pack. On 
they went, the music of their voices starting every farm- 
dog in the country to barking. No doubt these curs 
regretted that they were not hounds; that they too could 
have some of the fun. 

The hounds soon reached the far side of the corn, some 
twenty acres, and again turned toward the woods. 

**Let?s get on the fence down in that low piece of 
ground, and keep still, for he is likely to pass out there 
when the dogs get close to him; and if he does, we’ll prob- 
ably hear him.”’ 

‘* Yes, here they come; and they are warming him to his 
work—in fact, making him walk his chunk. Hark! Hear 
him, as he strikes some down stalks that are in his 
course ?”’ 

Yes; and he’s quite a distance ahead of the hounds. 
But hold; the dogs are at fault. He has tacked on his 
course to throw them off, but not for long, for they soon 
find it again; and here they come, knocking down the corn, 
in their wild career, like so many scared cattle. Soon they 
turn back into the field. The moon now lifts her golden 
head, away off in the northeastern horizon, as if to ascertain 
the cause of so much racket—lighting up the gloomy aisles 
of the forest; while two or three old cat-owls begin their 
“‘wah, wah, wah, wah-o-ah,’’ from the dead top of an old 
red oak near by. 

Hark! The hounds have again turned, and now, distant 
some three hundred yards, are coming almost straight 
through the corn to where we are on the fence; each vying 
with the other for the lead. The trail is fresh and hot, and 
each is giving tongue, fast and lively. Listen! We hear a 
slight rustling among the dry corn-stalks, some ten yards 
distant, and soon hear Mr. ’Coon creeping through between 
the rails of the fence. Now we hear him making off 
through the dry leaves that lay thick on the ground. 


518 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


None too soon, old fellow, for here they come; the whole 
pack not five yards apart. They have reached the old 
eight-rail fence, and no time is lost in scaling it, as they 
make the top rails rattle in their displacement by their 
flying heels. 

‘*Look ! do you see that, Cottie?’’ as a rabbit dashed 
out of a corner of the fence, near where the dogs crossed, 
and took down through an open path parallel to the fence. 

Our old owls, too, have made haste and sought some 
other part of the woods, where they can see just as well, 
and not be disturbed by the pandemonium. The old plant- 
igrade, finding things rather livelier in his rear than he 
had bargained for, after running about one hundred yards 
from the field fence, took shelter in the upper branches of 
a large burr-oak. The moon having risen sufficiently high, 
there was no trouble in locating and shooting him. And 
now, having had sport enough for one night, we turned 
our steps homeward. 

One morning, about the first of June, 1886, just at sunrise, 
I had taken a bucket and started to the well, distant about 
eighty yards from the house, when Mrs. A——, who had 
been feeding her poultry, called to me, and said there was a 
young turkey missing. I started on down the path leading 
to the well, when I saw in the dust of the path the tracks of 
an uncommonly large ’Coon, made some time during the 
past night. He had followed the path down to the well and — 
past it, toward a large swamp, of some five acres, that lay 
ten or fifteen rods beyond, and extended into the big woods. 
After returning with the water, I told my wife that I had 
got on the track of her turkey-thief, and that while she was 
getting breakfast, I would get out a writ and have him 
arrested. . ae 

I took my rifle, got my ax, whistled up old ‘‘ Boag,” 
and pointed out the track to him. He sniffed around a 
little while, threw up his head, and gave one of those long 
blasts of Fox-hound music that always means business. 
He then struck off toward the swamp, from which he 
. had already, in times past, started many a Raccoon, and 


*COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. 519 


run it toitsdeath. After a few moments of slow trailing 
among the red willows and small swamp ash-brush, he led 
off into the old woods, making things fairly jingle in his 
course. 

_ After trailing some three-quarters of a mile, I heard 
him change his tune into baying. Knowing he had treed, 
I hastened on, and 
found him baying 
at the root of a 
tall, red elm-tree, 
up which the ’Coon 
had gone and en- 
tered a hole formed 
by the top being 
broken off. I could 
not cut this tree 
without felling it 
across a wire fence, 
over which it 
leaned. Like the 
old man who found 
the rude boy steal- 
ing his apples, I 
said, ‘‘If I can’t get 
you, old sinner, by 
felling the tree, I'll 
just try a plan on 
you, some time dur- 
ing the day, that no, 
doubt will elevate 
you out of your 
cozy den.’’ Sol returned to the house, ate my breakfast, 
and went about my work until the afternoon, when I got 
an old half-pint flask, filled it with gunpowder, took about 
one foot of tape fuse, put one end into the bottle and fast- 
ened it tight. I then got some matches, and a strip of old 
cotton rags to tie to the other end of the fuse, so as to 
make a slow match, thus giving me time after lighting it 


Blown Out. 


520 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERIOA, 


to descend from the tree. I took my rifle, called old 
‘‘ Boag,” also a full-grown young pointer that was as 
plucky as a Wildcat in a tussle with a ’Coon, and put out 
to try what virtue there was in gunpowder. Arriving at 
the tree, I got things in readiness. A good many small 
branches grew from the trunk near the ground, and were 
distributed from thence to the top, making the tree easy to 
climb. I climbed up the tree to a height of about fifty feet, 
and within ten feet of the top, where I came to a hole that 
woodpeckers had dug out and that reached into the hollow. 
Through this hole I could see the old cuss coiled up just a 
little below, inside. The hole was hardly large enough to 
admit the bottle of powder, so I took my pocket-knife and 
enlarged it so that I could pass the bottle in. This the old 
’Coon didn’t like at all, and resented the intrusion by sav- 
age growls. He made several attempts to snap my fingers 
while I was at work. 

‘‘ But never mind, old boy; I'll give you something to 
chew on directly.” 

I struck a match, set the cotton rags on fire, coiled the 
fuse around the flask, dumped the infernal machine in 
on top of the ’Coon, and then made haste to get down the 
tree; for I wouldn’t have been up there when the mine 
exploded for all the ‘Coons in Old Town woods. 

Some fifteen minutes after reaching the ground, I heard 
the fuse begin to sputter, and also heard the ’Coon scram- 
bling up the hollow—concluding, no doubt, that a bumble- 
bee had gotten into his bed; when presently—‘‘ Whang !”’ 
went. the powder, like the roar of an old army-musket fired 
into a large barrel. : 

A dense column of smoke, rotten wood, and other débris 
flew from the top of the hollow, and in the midst of it, out 
popped the old plantigrade, with a tremendous leap clear 
from the tree, coming down and striking the ground like a 
bag full of wind, but apparently none the worse from the 
effects of the powder, save that the wool on his rump was 
somewhat scorched. The Pointer bounced him as soon as 
he struck the ground. The ’Coon was as large-framed as 


>COON-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN ILLINOIS. §21 


any I have ever seen, and gave both dogs a lively fight for 
several minutes before he was overcome. They finally laid 
him out, however; and when I took him to the house, my 
wife said she knew, from his full stomach and his sneaking 
look, that he was outside of her pet turkey. 


-*FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 


By Dr. M. G. Evuzey. 


Fox; one with hounds and horse, the other with 
hound and a gun, after the manner of driving Deer. 

e With the latter of these methods, the writer has 
no acquaintance. It prevails at the North, in country 
impracticable for the chase as practiced at the South, and 
is said by those devoted to it to be very exciting and enjoy- - 
able sport. They desire a slow hound, which is a good 
trailer, that they may stand at a likely place, along the run, 
and shoot the Fox as he ambles along in front of the 
hound. The sale of the pelt is the ultimate object, the 
apparent raison d'etre of the sport. Leaving the descrip- 
tion of this method to those who are familiar with its enjoy- 
ments, I proceed to attempt a description of the Fox-chase 
as I have known and enjoyed it in Old Virginia, where a 
pack of hounds is used to kill the Fox, or run him to earth. 
The chase here is similar to the English hunt in its main 
features, though differing in details, so far as it is ren- 
dered necessary by the nature of the country, the habits of 
the people, and especially by the differences between their 
Foxes and ours. I am persuaded that the American Red 
Fox, as found in the States of Maryland, Virginia, West 
Virginia, North Carolina, and Tennessee, is an animal far 
superior to the English Fox, in speed, endurance, cunning, 
and resource, when in front of a dangerous pack. He 
laughs an inferior pack to scorn. 

I will preface the proposed account of the sport by a 
brief sketch of the Fox. We have about half a dozen sorts 
of this animal, including the varieties of the far North. 


Authors divide them up for classification and nomenclature 
( 528 ) 


524 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


as Sam Weller gave the orthography of his name, ‘‘ accord- 
ing to the taste and fancy of the speller.” ‘‘ For my part,” 
observes Mr. Weller, ‘‘I spells it with a we.”’ 

The Fox is mutually fertile with the Wolf and domestic 
dog, which seems to be true of all existing canine species; 
whether the cross-bred offspring presents the character of — 
mongrels, or of fertile hybrids, has not been determined. 
Not even, as a rule, have naturalists, all run to morpholog- 
ical views as they are, clearly recognized these differences; 
for the greatest naturalists have confounded atavic varia- 
tion with the reversion of hybrids to a parent form. Leay- 
ing this question of specific distinctions as we find it, the 
sportsman’s distinction between our Foxes is, broadly, into 
red and gray. The cross-Fox is merely a Red Fox thus 
marked; the kit-Fox, a dwarfish individual. 

The Gray Fox, treated by some naturalists as being a 
mere color variety, has habits entirely different from the 
Red, in almost all possible respects. So far as my personal 
observations inform me, the following are some of the prin- 
cipal distinctions: First, as to reproduction, the Red Fox 
nearly always brings forth its young in an earth den; the 
Gray Fox, generally in a hollow log or tree, or, at most, — 
under a rock. The last one I found with her young was 
a Gray. The young, only a few hours old, were in the hol- 
low stump of an old rotten tree, broken off about five feet 
high. As I came up, the old one jumped out of the top of 
the stump and ran off. I looked down the hole, and saw, 
at the bottom, five young ones, scarcely dry. I have sel- 
dom seen a Gray with more than five, and often with only 
- four young. I never found a Red with less than five. I 
have seen one with nine, and several with seven. I think 
it certain, therefore, that the Reds are more prolific. 

Second, as to hunting for prey and subsistence: The 
Reds are bolder in pursuit, and hunt over a much greater 
territory than the Grays. Whether the Grays ever climb 
trees in pursuit of prey, Iam uncertain; but they take to a 
tree as readily as a cat when hard run by hounds. I think 
it nearly certain that they climb for persimmons, grapes, 


FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 525 


and berries. Red Foxes never climb trees under any cir- 
cumstances; when hard-run, they go to earth. 

Gray Foxes run before hounds only a short distance, 
doubling constantly, and for a short time, when they either 
hole in a tree or climb one. I have known the Red Fox to 
run straight away nearly twenty miles. Very commonly, 
they run eight or ten miles away, and then run back in a par- 
allel course. I have known them to run the four sides of a 
quadrilateral, nine or ten miles long by about two miles 
broad. It is doubtful whether a first-rate specimen of a 
Red Fox, taken at his best in point of condition, can either 
be killed or run to earth by any pack of hounds living, 
such are his matchless speed and endurance. It is but a 
sorry pack which fails to kill or tree a Gray Fox in an 
hour’s run. : 

The young of the Gray Fox closely resemble small, 
blackish puppies; those of the Red Fox are distinctly vul- 
pine in physiognomy when only a few hours old. 

The above are striking varietal distinctions; character- 
istics of less significance are often given much higher 
value by capable naturalists. Yet, from such information 
as I possess, I am of opinion that all living, and most likely 
all extinct Canida@, constitute a single physiological group, 
mutnally fertile, and their cross-bred offspring fertile infer 
se. This group is at present broken up into many good 
and distinct morphological species. I think the above facts 
clearly show that the Red Fox differs from the Gray in 
many important particulars, and that they are in error who 
seem to regard the two as mere color varieties—the dis- 
_tinctive marks being graded away and disappearing when 
large series of individuals are compared. - Any Fox-hunter, 
not a greenhorn, can tell whether it be a Red or a Gray 
Fox in front of his pack on the darkest night, as readily 
as if the animal were in plain view; and yet the color varia- 
tion of red and gray may bring the two sorts nearly 
together in extreme specimens in a series. I think that, in 
this manner, a comparison of series of kins may lead the 
best naturalist to erroneous conclusions. In this case, 


526 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


we may safely conclude that some Red Foxes are colored 
much like Gray Foxes, and that some Gray Foxes are col- 
ored much like Red Foxes; but if we go further, and con- 


clude that in all other respects the two sorts are one sort, . 


we fall headlong into an error as groundless as absurd—an 
error which a pack of hounds will soon demonstrate, and at 
which anyone in the least degree experienced as a Fox- 
hunter will laugh. 

In this place, it is proposed to offer a few thoughts and 
suggestions as to the true position of Fox-hunting among 
the manly and athletic sports of the field. The proposition 
is boldly advanced that no other riding-school in the world 
can compare with the hunting-field in the production of 
the highest type of horseback-riding—bringing into full 
play, as it does, all the nerve, strength, skill, and judgment 
of the rider. Often, in a moment, some great difficulty 
presents itself, immediately in front of him, to surmount 
which requires a great feat of horsemanship. It must be 
surmounted, or he will simply be left. Is it a thing simply 
not to be gotten over? Then, being in nowise a fool, the 
great horseman will draw rein, and see how best to get 
around it, even though that implies not even being within 
hearing at.the kill. Is it a vigorous difficulty, surmount- 
able by good horsemanship, or only by great horsemanship? 
Then the bold horseman summons all his own faculties, 
rouses all the resources of his steed, and goes over it in 
grand style, as if he had never recognized its presence. 
Courage, good sense, decision, presence of mind—these are 
the qualities brought out by this grand sport. Such 
qualities must be possessed by the horse no less than by 
his rider; otherwise the greatest horseman will be paralyzed 
in the presence of such a difficulty, if mounted on a duffer, 
or a lunk-headed fool and coward of a horse. 

Now, a second proposition is boldly advanced. The first 
place, therefore, among all manly sports of the field, must 
be awarded to riding to hounds. We advance immediately 
to a third and final proposition, viz.: The manliest of manly 
sports should be the recognized national sport of the 


FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 527 


greatest, the most enlightened, and the most progressive 
nation of the modern world, to wit, the United States of 
America. No argument need be advanced in support of 
such a proposition; the truth of it appears to be self-evi- 
dent upon the mere statement of the case. 

I take it no well-informed person will question the 
national value and importance of the preservation, the 
extension, and the development of superior horsemanship 
as a national characteristic of our people. This will carry 
with it the preservation, the development, the improvement 
of that fountain-source of all excellence and greatness in 
horse-flesh, that is to say, the English race-horse. If we 
are to have Fox-hunting as our national sport, we must 
have an American-bred hunting-horse. No horse can be 
bred fit to ride to hounds without large recourse to the 
blood of the race-horse. No horseman will deny that. 

It has been said by one of the greatest of English writ- 
ers on the horse, that the very best hunters in England 
were very nearly, though not quite, thorough-bred. This 
is equally true of the greatest of American trotters. The 
two-minute trotter will be common enough after awhile, 
and will be nearly, but not quite, thorough-bred. It will 
be, practically, the race-horse slightly modified in breeding, 
handled, trained, and selected for a different way of going. 
This statement is liable to paralyze certain people with 
astonishment, not unmingled with scorn. Nevertheless, 
what is writ is writ. 

The hunting-horse fit for the American Fox-chase will 
have to be nearly, though not quite, thorough-bred, but 
not a trotting-horse. Rather a running and jumping horse, 
bred, selected (for temper, especially), handled, and trained 
for the hunting-field—not a race-horse, bred, selected, 
trained, and handled for the turf. Doubtless a skilled 
horseman, versed in the science of heredity, and himself a 
practiced rider to hounds, may select as the foundation of 
a breeding-stud strictly thorough-bred horses, and produce 
from them unequaled hunters. We are not to believe there 
is anything lacking to the blood of the thorough-bred 


528 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


disabling it, when pure, from producing hunters of the 
very highest attainable excellence. 

If such horses as Sir Archy and his great son, Timoleon, 
or Black Maria, had been trained for the hunting-field, they 
could have carried a rider six feet two inches, weighing two 
hundred and twenty-five pounds, a distance in advance of 
any field of hunting-bred horses ever mounted. Or, take 
such an animal as American Eclipse, or Revenue, or Planet,_ 
for riders, say from five feet ten inches to six feet, and from 
one hundred and sixty to one hundred and eighty pounds; 
or, fancy old Ariel, the fairy queen of the running-turf, 
carrying a high-spirited lady rider. We may fancy a high- 
bred maiden, in the first bloom of her beauty, riding through 
a dashing chase at the head of a gallant field of hunters. 
Cold runs the blood in his veins whose whole being does ~ 
not dilate with the thought. I admit that my own heart 
bounds with the conception. 

I confess that I have, for some years, felt that there must 
be some sustaining demand to back up the breed of race- 
horses, outside of the current demand for fast mile-horses 
for the gambling needs of the racing-turf. Are the great 
old four-milers, along with the great race of men who pro- 
duced them, gone without return? I have an opinion that 
a horse may be produced, phenomenally fast for a mile 
and phenomenally unfit for every useful common purpose, 
whether he be trotted or run. If the breed of race-horses 
deteriorates, everything lower in the scale of horse-flesh will 
correspondingly go down. Does anyone believe that any 
fountain of excellence can be led higher and maintained at 
a level above its source? Believe it not! 

If Fox-hunting be established as our national sport, 
there will arise a demand for hunting-horses, for ladies and 
gentlemen, which can not at first be met. It will of course 
ultimately be met. No demand can be made upon the cre- 
ative genius of the American people which can not be met 
in due time. In the earlier stages of that demand, the 
_ breeders who have the knowledge, the skill, and the means 
combined to produce first-class hunters, for ladies and gen- 


FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 529 


tlemen, will be able to sell them for ‘‘ big money.’’ To go 
further with the technical description of the hunting-horse, 
in this place, would lead out of bounds. We must turn 
our attention to the pack, and then to the hunt. 

Less than three couples of hounds can scarcely be called a 
pack. Some persons fancy odd numbers, and would prefer 
a pack of thirteen hounds to one of fourteen or of twelve. 
More than thirteen hounds are, in my judgment, too many 
to run well together, or to be kept well in hand. I have 
seen thirty couples in a chase, but not more than nine of 
the best hounds did the real running. A gentleman of 
moderate means will find that six or seven hounds, well 
trained and kept, will afford better sport than will a greater 
number than can be well used. 

One of the most beautiful and exciting chases I remem- 
ber ever to have witnessed, was made by a eouple of black- 
and-tan spayed bitches. In arun of about forty minutes, 
they killed a fine Red Fox, which for three miles was not 
_ over five to fifteen feet in front of them; nor was there for 
that distance, at any time, three lengths between the bitches. 
This pair—little sisters —owned by my father, were certainly 
the fastest pair of hounds he ever owned in forty years’ 
devotion to hounds and to Fox-hunting. Running with 
the pack, they always led, frequently running neck-and- 
neck thirty or forty yards in advance of the pack. They 
were named Juno and Vanity, and each of them was 
known, in several instances, to start, run, and kill a fine 
Red Fox alone. 

It may be said, then, that a single hound may catch a 
Fox; a pair of hounds, if of the very best breeding and 
training, may afford good sport; that six or seven make a 
nice pack; and that the best number is thirteen. These, 
three neighboring gentlemen may own and keep between 
them, when they will do quite as well, or even better, than 
when all kept in one kennel. Spayed bitches are to be 
highly recommended, if spayed when not more than two 
to six weeks old, which is the best time, for they do not 


exhibit the tendency to become fat and lazy which results 
34 


530 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


from the operation at an age subsequent to sexual develop- 
ment. They are as fast as the best dogs; their scenting 
powers are equal to any; their sagacity in managing the 
working of a Fox in all its details can not be surpassed; 
they are easier to break and train; they are quiet about 
home, and seldom go off, on their own hook, to observe the 
country and make mental notes of the grazing-fields of a 
neighbor’s sheep. It is certain they are far less prone to 
mischief than dogs. In the matter of tongue, they gener- 
ally incline to treble, and their notes are often of a flute- | 
like sweetness. In the matter of endurance, they are not 
surpassed. These observations are the results of personal 
knowledge based on a wide experience. 

The color of hounds is a matter of taste. I have known 
great Fox-dogs of almost every variety of color. The best 
I ever knew were black-and-tans; the handsomest and 
deepest-mouthed were hounds of the old blue-mottled breed 
from the famous Crawford pack of Maryland. I should 
say color is a matter of taste, music a matter of science in 
selection, speed a thing to be tested, and it, as well as 
endurance, belongs to particular strains. If you want to 
breed a litter of Red Fox hounds, you will have to breed 
the fastest bitch to be had to the fastest dog. You can do 
it successfully in that way, and in no other. 

There are few strains of hounds, perhaps, now living, 
which are at all reliable to kill a Red Fox. I do not 
believe that any dogs bred, owned, trained, and run in Eng- 
land can kill our Red Foxes. It is not by resort to 
importations, therefore, that Red Fox dogs are to be had 
here. They must be bred from the few American strains 
which have demonstrated their ability to kill American 
Red Foxes. This is no random, unsupported notion. I 
have seen many imported dogs run, and never saw one 
capable of staying with our own best packs. 

No doubt this declaration will bring loud jeers from 
some people. Very well, let them jeer; | have no objection — 
to that sort of thing. In this matter, I feel that I know 
what lam talking about. In the matter of size, English 


FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 531 


hounds are too large for the country we hunt. It is beyond 
doubt true that medium-sized hounds are best for our work. 
They should not be above fifty pounds in weight. Some 
years ago, I knew an imported pack which I think would 
have averaged eighty pounds, and they could not stay with 
a native pack of small hounds of only moderate excellence. 

The kennel discipline of hounds should be simple, and 
all the accommodations inexpensive. When not in the 
kennel, they ought to be coupled together, in pairs, by an 
iron rod about a foot long, with a ring in each end, through 
which passes a leather collar to be buckled around the neck. 
My father’s kennel was simply a big, square-built log house, 
with a dirt floor, on which clean bedding was kept. During 
the hunting-season, the dogs were kept altogether in this 
house. Out of season, they were coupled, and went in and 
out at pleasure. They were called to be fed with the horn, 
and always worked with the same horn for everything they 
were required to do. They were fed, inexpensively, on 
_ coarse corn-meal, with the husks left in, and baked in large 
pones. They also had scraps from the tables, and sour 
milk, buttermilk, and bonny-clabber from the dairy. A 
case of disease or sickness among them is a thing which, 
during thirty years, I can scarcely remember. 

Probably an average of twenty were kept; sometimes the 
number ran up to thirty; sometimes there were not more 
than thirteen in the kennel. The entire success of these 
simple kennel arrangements, during so many years, seems 
to entitle such a method to great confidence. My father, 
who was doubtless the most enthusiastic and successful 
Fox-hunter of his time, in Virginia, pursued, also, in break- 
ing his young hounds, a method perfectly simple. When- 
ever he went out on horseback, which was well-nigh 
every day of his life, up to within a week of his death, he 
took the young hounds with him, and so accustomed them 
to obedience and a love of companionship with himself; 
and when they were to be taught to run the Red Fox, he 
took them out with a few of the best Fox-hounds he had, 
and let them run. They soon learned all there is for a 


532 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


hound to know; and, be it known to the inexperienced, 
there are few more sagacious animals than the Fox-hound. 
I myself doubt whether any other dog, except the Collie, 
has equal capacity to acquire a knowledge of his work as 
the Fox-hound, if not spoiled by ignorant or incompetent 
handlers. | 

There is left for description the hunt itself. The crowd 
which goes out with the hounds in a genuine English hunt 
is apt to be distasteful to our best Fox-hunters. Their idea 
of genuine sport is, for half a dozen real friends to meet 
quietly, and have the chase to themselves. If, however, a 
neighbor or two joins in uninvited, they are not unwelcome; 
and if the chase goes through a farm, and all hands leave 
work and run for a hill-top, mount the fence, get up a tree, 
or scramble to the top of the straw-rick, to see as much of 
the chase as may be, the hunters take real pleasure in 
adding a pleasant episode to the sameness of the simple 
lives of country work-people. What is meant is, that the 
bustle and display of an English meet is not in accordance 
with the tastes of our country gentlemen; not that they are 
at all selfish or exclusive in the enjoyment of their sport. 
In the case of wealthy clubs of city people, a different feel- 
ing prevails. Generally they are more after display than 
sport. An anise-bag, ora dead Fox, or some other drag, 
suits them equally as well as, or even better than a genuine 
hunt. 
Enough has already been said of the hunting-horse; we 
may, however, re-affirm that there neither is, nor can be, 
any real sport in a Fox-hunt for any person poorly 
mounted. A horse not sufficiently well-bred can not carry 
a rider through a severe chase with either comfort or safety. 
It is a genuine misery to ride a jaded horse; and, moreover, 
unless ridden with great caution, the rider’s neck is not 
safe; and consciousness of the unfit condition of the horse 
is fatal to that enthusiasm and élan which are the life and 
soul of everything deserving the name of sport. Therefore, 
the first thing essential to the enjoyment of Fox-hunting is 
a well-bred, sound, safe horse. The best horses are about 


FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 533 


fifteen and one-half hands high, and weigh about eleven 
hundred pounds. It is much more difficult to find a large 
horse, sixteen hands or upward, of that high form which is 
essential to carrying a rider, at speed, safely over difficult 
country. 

A man who has sense enough to value his own neck, 
must ignore the fashionable taste in choosing a horse to 
hunt on; and if not himself a skilled judge of the points of 
a horse, he should take the advice of a man who is, and 
upon whose impartial friendship he can rely. There are 
ten good medium-sized horses to one good large horse; 
hence it is far easier to mount a man of medium size than one 
above medium height and weight. A small man is unsuita- 
bly mounted on a large horse; a large man, more unsuitably 
mounted on a small horse. 

Our best hunters do not jump their horses over every- 
thing they can find to put them at; often they hunt a great 
part of a season, or a whole season, without taking a single 
considerable leap. It is not practicable to follow the hounds 
as seems to be done in England; for, in the first place, our 
Foxes, in almost every case, take such a course that no 
horse can possibly go overit. They take to the bluff, along 
water-courses, and through pine-thickets, that no man can 
ride a horse over or through at speed. The hunter must, 
in such a case, perforce make a detour and strike for the 
open ground, where he may again join the chase. 

No sensible man goes Fox-hunting for the mere sake of 
leaping his horse over fences and ravines; he goes over such 
places when the exigencies of the chase render it necessary. 
‘He does not leap his horse over a stone wall if there is an 
open gate three rods out of his line, unless he is riding for 
the brush, close to the hounds in the act of running into 
the Fox. A good hunter rides fearlessly when he has a 
rational object in view, and always judiciously, reserving 
his own powers and those of his horse to be put to the test 
when necessary. He takes no stock in the absurd cavort- 
ings of the riding academy. It is also true that cur Red 
Foxes run farther and faster than any horse whatever can 


a oemntiial -_ 


534 * BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


follow them, over their own course. The best horses, in 
the best condition, carrying light weight, over our finest 
race-tracks, can scarcely maintain their rate through four 
miles. A Red Fox, in front of a dangerous pack, scarcely 
gets down to business in less than three times that distance. 
I have seen a chase in which the Fox’s course was twenty 
miles, the running being desperate from start to finish. 
I was never out of hearing, and much of the time in full 
view of the chase; but I did not ride more than two-thirds 
as far as the pack ran. t 

At this point, I can not forbear to turn aside to comment 
briefly on the remarks upon the speed and endurance of 
our Red Foxes, by a distinguished scholar. In a costly and 
pretentious work on natural history, he says: ‘‘It runs with 
great swiftness for about a hundred yards, but is easily over- 
taken by a Wolf, or a mounted man.’’ Even great authors 
must slip sometimes, but probably a more complete display 
of ignorance was never made by a competent writer than in 
the above brief sentence. I doubt if any creature lacking 
wings is fully equal to the American Red Fox in speed 
and endurance combined. I have seen him, when at his 
best, outfoot and run away from as fine a pack of hounds 
as ever was seen, and also leave out of hearing a whole field 
of sportsmen, not one of whom was meanly mounted. I 
know but little, practically, of Wolves, but I do know some- 
thing of mounted men, and I doubt whether the finest rider 
in the world, mounted on the finest horse in the world, can 
easily overtake an American Red Fox, or overtake him at 
all, or in a race of twenty miles keep within four miles of 
him. I have seen the thing tried many and many a time, by - 
many distinguished riders finely mounted; I have tried it 
myself often—but never yet saw a race between a mounted 
man and a Red Fox in which the Fox was easily outrun. 

The best season for hunting the Fox is, with us, in the 
months of October, November, and December, or as late in 
winter as the weather may be open and the ground not 
frozen. Some persons hunt in the spring months, until the 
vegetation is too far advanced to permit either hearing, 


FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 535 


seeing, or riding well, and with pleasure and safety. Some 
have a run any day in the year they may have a mind to do 
it. Fox-hunting is for pleasure, for health, and for the 
acquirement of skill on horseback, and it ought not to be 
pursued under circumstances dangerous to the health of 
the hunter, nor cruel to his horse or hound; as when the 
weather is severe and the ground icy, or soft and miry. The 
best weather is a temperature of about 60° Fahrenheit, and 
a relative humidity of about 75°, clear, and without wind 
beyond a moderate breeze. This will be an atmosphere 
sufficiently moist for good scent and not too cool for the 
rapid movements of the chase, which greatly increases evap- 
_ oration, both from the pulmonary and cutaneous surfaces, 

which of course implies rapid loss of animal heat; and a 
great-strain is thereby thrown upon both the great organs 
of circulation and respiration, in man and beast. 

Therefore it is that dry, cool wind makes the very worst 
hunting-weather, and therefore it is that horses have com- 
monly made their greatest records on the turf on very hot 
days. Observations made by the writer on temperature 
and relative humidity, in connection with the air-supply of 
the Hall of Representatives at Washington, led him to the 
conclusion that a temperature of 60° Fahrenheit, and a 
relative humidity of 75°, gives us our most delightful vernal 
and autumnal weather, and those conditions are recom- 
mended as constituting nearly the optimum of hunting- 
weather. In such weather, Foxes lie much in the open 
fields, or on- the border of some glade or open woodland. 
We often ousted them from such spots, before Setters and 
Pointers, when ont shooting on such autumn days. 

In describing the modus operandi of the hunt, I will 
detail our own usual practice; not that it is the best prac- 
tice, but it is the result of long experience, and has been 
found satisfactory in the region where we were accustomed 
to hunt. It is by no means necessary to get up shortly after 
midnight, and hastily swallow a cold, uncomfortable break- 
fast; to be in the saddle and unkennel the hounds while it is 
yet dark. It is better to eat a comfortable early breakfast, 


536 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


have the hounds fed lightly on stale bread, and to be in the 
saddle a little before sunrise. The horses should have, the 
night before, a good feed of oats and only a little hay, and 
in the morning, an hour before the start, a moderate feed of 
oats. When brought out, they should have a dozen or so 
swallows of water. 

The hounds should be kept well in to heel until the 
place for making the cast-off is reached. They should be 
handled, as far as possible, by one person, and one person 
should have general direction of the hunt. When the 
start is made, the Fox lays out the course, and, in racing 
parlance, cuts out the running. The hunt will, in a good 
degree, take shape at its own wild will. Often a crisis will 
arrive when everything is at sea, every man is for himself, 
and the ery is, ‘‘ Devil take the hindmost,’’ whether that 
hindmost be Fox, hound, horse, or huntsman. Neverthe- 
less, an eaeperionesd Fox- inter never quite loses his head, 
and acts always with care and judgment. 


' I will now attempt a description of one of the greatest 
races in which I can remember to have been a participant. 
A few brief notes as to the scene of the hunt will facilitate 
an understanding of the narrative. The residence of my 
father, in the old commonwealth of Virginia, was situated 
centrally in the grand old county of Loudoun, about two 
miles from Goose Creek, the beautiful Indian name of 
which was To-hong-ga-roo-ta, and about the same distance 
from Aldie Gap, in the Bull Run spur of the Blue Ridge 
Mountains. It was about eight miles from our home east- 
ward to the mouth of the creek, where its waters are emp- 
tied into the Potomac, at the upper end of Selden’s Island. 
In this part of its course the creek is a bold and rapid 
stream, from seventy-five to one hundred yards wide. Its 
banks in places are long, level bottoms; in other places 
rising into precipitous bluffs and rugged cliffs, covered 
with hemlocks and dense ivy-thickets. 

In the fields, thickets, strips of woodland, and glades 
bordering this creek, it was always an easy matter to start 


* 


FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 537 


a Red Fox. I have never heard of a Gray Fox being seen 
there, although in the King country, seven or eight miles 
to the southeast, Grays are numerous. 

In front of us, to the north, was the creek; west of us 
three miles, the mountains. Eastward four or five miles, 
running north and south, was a low line of hills called the 
Old Ridge, covered with black-jack and broom-sedge; and 
in many parts lay huge boulders, and more or less extensive 
tracts of loose magnesian shale, seamed and scarred all over 
with galls, washes, and gulleys. In places, these hills were 
densely covered with scrub-pine and tangled masses of 
green-brier, hawthorn, and grape-vines. Behind us, to the 
south, extended an open country, from the foot of Bull 
Run Mountain eastward, some ten miles, to Broad Run, a 
considerable tributary of the Potomac. 

Our Foxes usually ran a quadrilateral, going up the 
creek west to Negro Mountain, a low, brushy range of hills 
extending from Bull Run Range; along Negro Mountain 
from two to five miles southward; thence eastward to Broad 
Run, and thence northward along the Old Ridge to the 
creek, and up the creek to Negro Mountain. My father’s 
estate extended northward to the creek, and eastward 
down the creek several miles, occupying a central position 
in the quadrilateral described, the circuit of which was 
about twenty miles as the Foxes ran it. Foxes started in 
front of us, almost invariably ran down the creek to the 
Old Ridge, southward along the Old Ridge to Broad Run, 
up that run and across the open country to Negro Mount- 
ain, northward along Negro Mountain to the creek, and 
again down the creek. 

In what we called the mill- dan field, a splendid old Red 
dog-Fox had taken up his quarters, and my father, some- 
times alone, sometimes in company with some friends, with 
select hounds from their packs, had run him around the 
quadrilateral divers times without being able to do any- 
thing with him other than to put him in perfect training; 
and it began to be thought that no pack could either kill 
him or run him to earth. 


588 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


My father himself doubted whether this Fox was not 
superior to any pack in the world. However, he deter- 
‘mined to try a final conclusion with him, and, with this 
end in view, took measures to get nine of his best hounds 
in the highest attainable condition. He had in his pack, 
at that time, a strain of black-and-tan hounds which he 
had owned and bred for thirty years, and which his father 
had long owned before him. At this time, there were 
in the pack, besides the brood bitch and four or five dogs’ 
of that strain, the two spayed bitches already mentioned, 
named Vanity and Juno, which were undoubtedly the best 
pair of hounds which the strain, great as it was, ever pro- 
duced. Of course, these great bitches were first choice for 
this race. They were backed by two dogs of the same 
strain, but not full brothers in blood, called Leader and 
Rogue. The next selections were blue-mottled hounds 
from the Crawford strain of Maryland; three dogs, Drum- 
mer, Farmer, and Trump, and a spayed bitch, Countess. In 
addition to these, a lemon-and-white hound of great excel- 
lence, called Frowner, was put in. My father believed that 
these were, in all points, as good Fox-hounds as were ever 
seen, and he thought the great sisters, Juno and Vanity, 
the very best he had ever seen run. 

Our friends were notified that all was ready for the race 
the next day, and that the meet, for those who did not 
breakfast with us, would be at the upper end of the mill- 
dam field, within a few minutes after sunrise. 

My father and I saw personally to the feeding and bed- 
ding of the hounds, and each of us to his own horse. We 
went early to bed, after a light supper, and so slept well 
all night. At early dawn we were up, and quickly dressed 
in hunting-clothes, and out to attend to matters at the ken- 
nels and stables; for our experience had taught us that such 
details must have our personal attention. | 

By the time these matters were settled, some of our 
neighbors arrived, and brought several additional couples 
of hounds. Breakfast was a simple affair. As soon as 
dispatched, we mounted and rode to the meeting-place, 


’ 


_ FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. §39 - 


arriving there three or four minutes before the sun rose. 
We found most of those expected already at the spot, and 
the others arrived almost simultaneously with our party. 

After brief and simple morning salutations, and a couple 
of minutes’ chat, my father announced all ready, and the 
hounds were cast off. In less than three minutes, Drummer 
challenged, and the whole pack (fifteen in all) closed in and 
took the trail. In about two minutes, and before we had 
advanced three hundred yards into the field, the invincible 
old Red rose over the rag-weed, and took a deliberate view 
of the forces advancing against him. ‘‘Tally-ho!’’ rang out 
in chorus from the horsemen, and the pack burst into full 
ery, as the gallant quarry bounded away on the race for his 
life, with not more than one hundred yards start of the 
hounds. 

The Fox made direct for the upper end of the cliffs, 
where a man and horse could not pass between the rocks 
and the water, and where, for half a mile down-stream, the 
running would be over rocks and through dense timber. 


_As the course to reach this point was up-stream, whether 


the Fox would make a short turn, and adopt the usual tac- 
tics of breaking away down-stream, we could not know. 
If we rode to the edge of the cliffs, and the chase turned 


_down-stream, we should gain nothing; for half a mile 


below, a rocky ravine, impassable by horses, made up from 
the creek, about three hundred yards, to a spring in the 
field. We therefore held our position for a moment, to 


await developments. The wily Fox, fully realizing the 


importance of increasing his lead by taking advantage of 
the rough ground, turned short down-stream at the head of 


the cliffs, as was instantly detected by the practiced ears of 


my father and his friend, Mr. Edward Jenkins, who was as 
great a man at all points afield as ever bestrode a horse. 
At this point, the echoing music of the pack was splendid 
beyond description, and seemed equally inspiring to horse- 
man and to horse. My father gave the word, and we 
bounded away at speed for the spring at the head of the 
ravine, expecting the chase to continue its sweep around 


540 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA, 


the horseshoe curve of the creek. If so, position at the 
spring, being on the chord of the are when we should 
- arrive at that point, would give us a view of the race for 
about a mile, when we could join in the chase as it turned 
into the long stretch of bottom-lands at the lower end of 
the mill-dam field. : 

When we reached a point within one hundred yards of 
the spring, the roar of the mill-dam, mingling with the 
thunderous echoes of the pack behind the cliffs, was like 
the peal of a great organ along the aisles of some vast 
cathedral. The splendor of the early morning scene may 
be imagined, but it can not be adequately described. My 
father reined in to a full stop, and called out: 

‘‘Gentlemen, they are coming up the ravine to the 
spring. Hold in, or we shall ride over the hounds;’’ and 
immediately shouted ‘‘Tally-ho!”’’ pointing to a spot near 
the head of the ravine, where Reynard appeared for an 
instant, and then disappeared in the bushes. It was obvi- 
ous he had not inereased his lead by many yards, as the 
tremendous cry distinctly showed the hounds were already 
coming well up the ravine; and my father’s marvelous ear 


must have detected the turn at the very instant it was — . 


made. The Fox had now cleared the head of the ravine, 
and broke away across the open field toward the Broad 
Rock, in a southeasterly course, toward the far side of the 
quadrilateral, leaving the water-course entirely. 

‘‘ Did you ever see so bold a rascal?”’ said Mr. Jenkins. 

‘“ Aye,” responded my father. ‘I do not understand 
him, but that is a fatal mistake. Nothing can save his 
brush to-day but a decree of fate.”’ 

The pack by this time had cleared the ravine; the Fox 
had two hundred yards start, and a mile and a half across” 
the old field to reach cover. Vanity leading, Juno at her 
flank, the rest closed up; the pace was so tremendous that 
some of us thought we should run into him before he struck 
Broad Rock. 

‘*Hark! away!’’ shouted my father, touching old Alice 
gently with the spur; and away we went. The first fence 


TALLY-HO: 


Rear sistas bh Leos Peder iy 


Pay eae 


4% 
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| aod 
apt 
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i ted 
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; 


FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 541 


_was three hundred yards away, a trifling affair, and over it 

Reynard led like a bird on the wing. Like screaming eagles 
swooping on their prey, followed the fiercely clamorous 
pack. Pell-mell the horsemen pressed upon their heels; 
and over we went. 

Here followed a run perhaps never surpassed in the 
hunting-field. Gallantly did Reynard maintain his lead; 
gallantly followed the flying pack, and gallantly the horse- 
men rode. As the last quarter of the stretch was reached, 
Vanity showed three lengths in front of Juno, who just 
maintained her place at the head of the pack, and, as it 
' were, by inches she began to close the gap between her- 
self and Reynard’s brush, which was still flaunting defi- 
antly in the breeze. She had crawled up to within forty 
yards of him, with several hundred yet to run before the 
Broad Rock was gained. She was now twenty yards ahead 
of the pack, Juno just clear of the bunch. The horsemen 
were well closed up to within from fifty to one hundred 
yards of the pack. In nearly this position, this splendid 
panorama closed by Reynard leaping both-fences of the 
highway and sweeping directly across the face of the Broad 
Rock, gaining cover at the head of a bad rocky ravine lead- 
ing to the banks of Beaver Dam Creek, about two miles 
above its mouth, where it falls into Goose Creek. 

Going over the fence, the horsemen gathered in the road 
at the Broad Rock, and there was a pause, while the chase 
developed its future course. My father and his friend sat - 
side by side on their horses, following the pack by the 
sonorous music of their furious cry, and gazing intently 
‘into the woods toward the run. 

‘*They are going up Beaver Dam,”’ said Mr. Jenkins. 

** Aye,’ said my father, turning old Alice’s head down 
the public road; and remarking, ‘‘ We can get in at Mount 
Hope,” he jogged off, so as to keep nearly abreast of the 
chase as it rushed roaring along the meanderings of the 
rock-bound stream. 

The object of my horsemanship was to keep as near as [ 
could to my father’s side, his friend, Mr. Jenkins, riding 


542 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


always with him, followed by his son William, nearly 
my age; so that this latter young gentleman and myself 
fell into a natural companionship. The other gentlemen 
rode to suit themselves, but recognized my father’s leader- 
ship of the hunt, as a matter of course. My mount was 
a beautiful, thorough-bred, bay filly, coming five years 
old, which was my saddle-mare for many years. She was 
a delightful goer and jumper, and safe even for alady. Old 
Alice was a mare of extraordinary power and speed, seven- 
eighths bred; a daughter of Grigsby’s Potomac, her dam a 
daughter of that good horse Hyder Ali. TI still own some 
of the descendants of that great mare. She was killed 
by lightning, with a splendid foal at her side, when twenty 
years old—long after this memorable chase. The Jenkinses 
were well mounted on horses that had outlasted many and 
many a hard day’s run, and the other gentlemen of the 
hunt were all well mounted. | 

As the cry came abreast of us, some three hundred yards 
to the left, we again gave our horses rein, and were going at 
full speed along the road, having the short lines on the 
pack; but their pace was tremendous. 

Coming up on the hill above the ford of Beaver Dam, we 
paused again for the chase to develop; but only for a 
moment, when Reynard bounded clear into the middle of 
the road on the far side of the stream, and broke away 
down the road right through the village of Mount Hope, 
and leading the pack three hundred yards. We held our 
positions until the hounds had passed. They came with 
incredible speed, considering the ground, Vanity leading 
easily, and went down the road at a terrible pace. 

As soon as the hounds had cleared the fence, my father 
rode forward, followed by the hunters, all closed up, and 
we were soon going again at speed. The race led along 
the road about a mile, when Reynard took to some rocky 
woodland on the right, and it seemed he might break away 
for Negro Mountain. Hesitating a moment as to our 
course, ‘‘Tally-ho!’? from the venerable huntsman, Mr. 
John Macamblin, who had reinforced the pack with a 


- 


FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 543 


couple of blue-mottled hounds of the Crawford strain, and 
we knew that the Fox was coming back to the road. He 
would surely cross it near our position, and break away to 
Broad Run, over ground favorable to him, and returning 
by the Old Ridge route to Goose Creek, would now give us 
a tedious run of an hour or more, with many losses by the 
hounds, and we should have to make the finish going up 
the creek-bottom again. 

Horsemen could not follow closely over this course. 
Therefore, guided by my father, who knew every foot of 
the ground, we kept as well in hearing as we might, and 
saved our horses as we could, for the final conclusion 
going up the creek-bottom. Over this part of the course, 
we however had full enjoyment of the bracing air of the 
glorious autumn day and the superb melody of the hounds; _ 
- now near, now far, echoing and reéchoing among the rocky 
glens, and through the dim aisles of the weird old forest, 
for many a mile. 

So at length we rode out into an open field on the sum- 
mit of the Old Ridge, half a mile from the creek, at a place 
known as Powers’ Hill, whence is a prospect hardly sur- 
passed by any inland scene within my knowledge. Here 
we sat upon our horses, enjoying the magnificent prospect, 
listening to the distant pack, whose course my father knew 
as well as if the running had been in full view all the way. 

‘* Where will we get in the race again, ’Squire?’’ asked 
Mr. Macamblin. 

** Right here, sir,’’ said my father. 

‘*Yes,”’ said Mr. Jenkins; ‘‘and we shall not be waiting 
ten minutes.’” 

‘“They are crossing Moran’s Bottom now,” said Mr. 
Swartz, one of our party, distinguished as one of the finest 
riders in the State. 

‘“ Yes,” said my father; ‘‘and the cry is very keen. I 
know they are pressing him hard; we will see the position 
of things as they pass here. I think he will die near the | 
starting-point; he will never go to earth, and he can’t live 
it out before that pack to-day.”’ 


544 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


‘‘Tally-ho!”’ from the keen-eyed Jenkins, and Reynard 
hove in view, coming over the fence at the far side of the 
field ‘in which we were, and making almost direct for our 
position. Not a hundred yards behind came Vanity, fol- 
lowed quickly by Juno and several Crawford hounds, with 
Rogue and Frowner; the rest strung out a little, but com- 
ing well along. It was obvious that the Fox knew that he 
must do his best, or die; his manner and aspect showed as 
much. He had now run, almost without a break or pause, 
fully twenty miles, and there were six miles before him 
before he could gain the friendly cover of Negro Mountain. 
Once there, he would be safe; but could he get there? My 
father said not, in his opinion, and so we all believed; for 
the next six miles was wholly favorable to the dogs: It 
however abounded with earths, and as Swartz put it: 

‘‘T’m afraid he’ll den under some of those cliffs, and we 
can’t get him out.”’ 

‘*T think not,’’ said my father; ‘*but he may.”’ 

On we sped for awhile, beyond the mouth of Beaver Dam, 
from whence Broad Rock was once more in view, half a 
mile to the left; but the chase was now up the creek-bot- 
toms, clinging to the meanderings of the stream. Passing 
round in front of the pack, along the are of the horseshoe 
curve, we had a straight mile stretch. 

‘*T want to see them across this bottom,’’ said my father, 
‘and then I think I can tell how it will be for a cer- 
tainty.” 

‘‘Tally-ho-ooo!’’? from several horsemen, and Reynard 
swung around the bend before us, a hundred yards off, fol- 
lowed now within sixty yards by the pack, well closed up; 
and as they broke from cover and caught sight, a grand 
chorus saluted our ears, which had in it the unmistakable 
do or die. There was now before us a view-chase of nearly 
a mile, and we followed hard upon the hounds—the sight, 
the fury of the cry, carrying us almost beyond ourselves 
with an excitement which enthused, with one common im- 
pulse, rider, horse, and hounds, and must have carried 
terror to the heart of poor Reynard. 


es 
= 


a Wee 


wes 
eth 


ies, 


FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 545 


It was a tremendous burst, and briefly over, when Rey- 
nard once more hid his brush in friendly cover, and swept 
into an alcove behind a cliff in the bend of the creek. 
Making a detour to the left, we encountered a stiff fence, 
at the border of the ravine, too dangerous to attempt; so, 
swinging some yards farther to the left, we struck into a 
farm-road, and took the bars, the most considerable leap of 
the hunt. 

Bounding toward the creek at once, we met the chase at 
the head of the cliff; but there was no time for exchange of 
words. Getting over an easy fence, each horseman in his - 
own way, we reéntered the mill-dam field along the water’s 
edge, riding with the pack at the heels of the Fox—Vanity 
nipping at his brush as he went over the fence, the others 
strung out a little; Juno a few feet in his rear, and Drum- 
mer running second. It was evident that this was the final 
rush; and seeing my father settle himself in the saddle, and 
turn the spur on Alice’s flank, I rode for all I was worth 
for my place at his side, and in an instant I was at his 
stirrup. 

‘*Hark!’’ he cried, as Vanity seized Reynard full in the 
back, and giving him a snatch, rolled over, and turned 
him backward. In an instant, poor Reynard was seized by 
Drummer, and in less than a twinkling of an eye, Juno 
had hold. My father, Mr. Jenkins, William, and I were 
in together at the death, and William, leaping from his 
horse, seized the Fox, and cutting away the hounds with 
his whip, held him up by the nape to the view of the 
admiring company—the largest and finest specimen of a 
Red Fox any of the party had ever seen, 

My father awarded the brush to William Jenkins, and 
the great race was finished; every horseman and every 
hound being well closed up at the death. Mr. Macamblin 
said: ; 

‘‘T am an old hunter. I have seen many hundreds of 
runs, in Ireland, in England, and in America. I think we 
have had to-day, in some respects, the grandest run I ever 


saw. I shall never see such another, I am sure. I ama 
35 


546 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


partisan of the Crawford strain; they are natives of my 
native country; they are great Fox-hounds, but Vanity and 
Juno are the greatest couple I ever saw run.”’ 

‘“Yes,’’ said Mr. Jenkins; ‘‘there is not another such 
couple living, in my opinion. Through this great race of 
twenty-five miles, Vanity was never once headed, and never 
made a serious fault; and Juno was second until close to 
the finish, when her foot was badly cut.” 

*“Well, Ned,’ said my father, ‘‘I agree with you gen- 
tlemen. This black-and-tan strain is a great strain, and 
these sisters are its greatest representatives; yet undoubt- 
edly the Crawford strain has also produced great hounds. 
I think Drummer, Tanner, and Countess nearly equal to 
any three I ever had in my pack.”’ 

‘‘Squire,’’ said Mr. Macamblin, ‘‘we are indebted to 
you fora great day's sport, and we are happy that not a 
single circumstance has marred our pleasure in the smallest 
degree.” 

‘‘Well,”’ said my father, ‘‘I hope we may all live for 
many another successful meet. And, gentlemen, my house 
is nearest; I insist that you shall all dine with me. Come!’’ 
And with a blast of his horn, the well-trained pack came 
to heel, and we jogged home to dine, and discuss the events 
of the day. 


Years have rolled away to join the past. Lately I had 
occasion to revisit the place of my birth, and riding alone, 
my road led through the village of Mount Hope. Not 
one of those who saw the great chase go through their 
quiet hamlet is living there now. Of those who followed 
the hounds that day, I only am left. Reaching the Broad 
Rock, I reined up and paused a few moments, regarding the 
spot. I love to recall my father as he sat old Alice at 
that spot—a splendid type of physical manhood, six feet 
and an inch, broad-chested, square-shouldered, erect, weigh- 
ing about one hundred and eighty pounds; in the splen- 
did skill of his horsemanship, the peer of Turner Ashby; in 
the dignity of his bearing, of the Old Virginia type, of 


i I a a a 


FOX-HUNTING IN VIRGINIA. 547 


which Gen. Robert E. Lee was the modern exemplar. My 
eye followed my thoughts to the distant hill, where, tow- 
ering vast against the clear, blue sky, survivor of ten gen- 
erations of my ancestors buried at its feet, a gnarled and 
mighty oak points from the place of my father’s honored 
ashes to the rest of his noble soul. I rode slowly on. 


‘* Tears, idle tears; I know not what they mean. 
Tears from the depths of some divine despair, 
Rose in the heart and gathered to the eyes, 

In looking on the happy autumn fields 
And thinking of the days that are no more.” 


ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 


By Cyrus W. BuTuer. 


ROM the day that Mother Eve was accused of the 
questionable taste of being tempted by a serpent, 
we have had for that order of Reptilia so little 
interest, aside from fear and aversion, that this 

dislike has not stopped with snakes, but has extended, in a 

modified degree, to the entire reptilian class. It is but 

natural, therefore, that of all classes of animal life, that of 

Reptilia should afford the least attraction to the sports- 

man; for, in addition to,this aversion, you can neither shoot 

them on the wing nor angle for them with a split bamboo; 
and, as a rule, its species are small, their capture void of 
pleasure, and they are worthless when caught. 

But, thanks to the molecule whose differentiation first 
started in its development the order Crocodilia, we have in 
the United States two species, the Crocodile and Alligator, 
whose size and ferocity are sufficient to interest the sports- 
man and furnish employment for his best rifle. The sight 
of the huge, glittering body, as it lies basking in the sun- 
shine, may well cause his heart to beat as hard and his 
breath to come as heavy as though a more beautiful and 
useful game animal lay before him. 

The American Crocodile occurs only in South Florida, 
and has never been taken in any great numbers. In the 
winter of 1888 and 1889, Dr. J. W. Velie, of the Chicago 
Academy of Sciences, secured twenty specimens on the 
southwest coast of the State, the largest of which was 
fifteen feet and six inches in length. ; 

The most distinguishing characteristic of this Crocodile, 
as compared with the Alligator, is that the end of the jaws 


are wider than they are farther back, so that a rope can be 
(549) 


550 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


tied around them without slipping off. The upper jaw is 
narrower than the lower, and the canines of the latter 
extend through holes in the former, so that the ends of 
those teeth protrude above the upper jaw. However, as Ll 
know little of the Crocodile, I will say nothing more, but 
proceed with an intimate acquaintance, Alligator Missis- 
sippiensis, more commonly known as ‘‘’ Gator.”’ 

As with all animal life, he begins as an egg, and like most 
reptiles, his external existence as such is in the form of a 
pretty, white, and hard-shelled egg, much harder than that 
of the domestic hen, about three inches in length, and one- 
half as wide. The nest is composed of vegetation and 
earth, piled a foot or two high and from four to five feet in 
diameter, in the center of which are laid, sometimes, as 
many as seventy-five eggs, which are covered with earth 
and hatched by the heat of the sun; the mother meantime 
carefully guards them from depredators. 

When hatched, the young are six or seven inches in 
length, and in spite of their reptilian characteristics, have a 
decidedly infantile appearance. In order to get a plentiful 
supply of tadpoles and small fish, and to escape their affec- 
tionate papas, who, it is said, love them, alas! only too 
well, the mother then takes them to some secluded nursery, 
perhaps a hole in a small creek, or a wet place in a swamp, 
where, if the water be low, she digs a hole, beneath the 
surface, into which she and her young may retire. What 
their period of growth or attainable age is, I do not know, 
but they sometimes reach a length of fifteen feet and a 
probable weight of four hundred pounds. 

‘With the appearance of the ’Gator, all are acquainted— 
his immensely elongated jaws, armed with a hundred teeth; 
long, dark, and knotty reptilian head; brown, cat-pupiled 
eyes, that in the heat of anger burn with such dark ferocity, 
and say, only too plainly, ‘‘ No quarter here;’’ no external 
ear, but an aperture covered with a valve-like flap, to keep 
the water out; round neck; rather small and short legs; 
body swelling from just back of the fore legs to the center 
and then decreasing to the hinder legs; a heavily muscled 


ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 551 


tail, as long as head and body combined. The whole body is 
covered with a tough skin, brownish-black above and white 
beneath, all creased with square-cornered checks beneath 
_ and on ‘the tail and smaller irregular forms on the sides 
and legs. The entire upper surface is more or less covered 
with round plates of bone set on the skin, each plate having 
a median keel, that gives the animal’s back his rough 
appearance. The keels on the outer row of tail-plates are 
much higher than the rest, thus giving the outer sides 
sharp, high edges, which converge until they meet, back 
of the center, to form the sharp upper edge of the tail, 

which is much flattened there. 

The Alligator is found as far north as Memphis, Tennes- 
see; is common in the Gulf States, but to-day is probably 
most abundant in Florida. Where it is cold enough to 
freeze, he hibernates during the cold spell; but in South 
Florida he may be found wide-awake and enjoying life 
throughout the year. 

They feed on any animal life obtainable, from horseshoe 
crabs to dogs and pigs, and are commonly regarded as 
being fond of negro babies; but their most common diet is 
fish. Of thirty-six specimens—from six to eleven feet in 
length—whose stomachs I examined, twenty contained noth- 
ing but fishy-smelling water and oil, remnants of a few small 
minnows, and, in almost every case, one or two small sorts 
of an aquatic plant. Two had dined on a brace of wild 
ducks each, while the remaining fourteen were all killed at 
a time when the surface of the lake was strewn with dead 
fish; and each ’Gator had laid in a stock of provisions lim- 
ited only by his storage capacity. 

From the frequent occurrence of the aquatic roots in their 
stomachs, it appears that they are not entirely carnivorous. 
A ‘*Cracker’’ informs me that he planted a crop of cucum- 
bers near a pond, and that when the ‘‘ cukes were big enough 
to pull, the ’Gators come up and cleaned out the hull crop.”’ 

It is evident that a square meal is an uncertain event, 
and doubtless weeks often elapse during which the Alligator 
has little or nothing to eat. In confinement, they are said 


552 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


to have lived six months without food. When prey is 
caught of sufficient size to offer resistance, the Alligator 
sets his jaws with a vise-like grip; then, by using his tail, 
rolls rapidly over and over until the prey is drowned, 
when, if it be too large to swallow whole, a mouthful is 
seized, and the rolling process repeated, until it is bitten — 
and twisted off. 

In their common walk, the central surface just clears 
the ground, and the end of the tail drags so as to leave a_ 
sharp cut in the mud between the foot-prints. But, when 
necessary, the Alligator can arch his back, straighten his 
legs so as to raise his body some distance from the ground, 
and shuffle off at a surprising gait. As a rule, he seldom 
goes far from water, and when he does, it is in traveling 
from one body of water to another. If the water dries up, 
he selects the lowest place in the basin, and digs a hole, 
usually five or six feet deep, running back under some pro- 
tecting growth, whose roots keep the roof from falling in 
upon him. Here he lies and dreams the hours away, in a 
chronic state of mud-bath. 

The swimming is done entirely by the tail, the legs being | 
laid back against the body; the powerful, flat-ended tail 
sweeps from side to side, just as a fish uses its tail, excepting 
that a ’Gator’s tail, being longer, -has a more serpentine 
motion. As usually seen swimming, the upper half of the 
head is above water, and moving slowly along; but at times, 
when startled from the shore, he will plunge quickly in, 
and swim off underneath the surface for a short distance, 
at the rate of six or seven miles an hour. 

As to his disposition, I am afraid that, aside from its 
most prominent features, it will remain to the human mind 
a sealed book; for however well we may understand him 
from our own stand-point, we are utterly at a loss to under- 
stand him from his, as outside of obedience to the two 
most prominent laws of life—-the preservation of the indi- 
vidual and the perpetuation of the species—he seems to 
take so little interest in existence that you can not help 
wondering what it may all mean to him. 


ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 553 


Where the death-dealing hand of man has not set 
the seal of fear upon the Gator, you can approach, even 
in open water, to within a few yards of him without attract- 
ing any more attention than a wide-opened mouth and 
an aspirated hiss; but after a few days’ shooting, their 
noses, ears, and eyes all detect your presence, and their | 
fast-disappearing forms suggest an unsuspected aptness in 
receiving object-lessons. On the whole, he is a sluggish, 
very sluggish, animal, not even being an active hunter; but 
loafs around in hope that something may turn up—that 
probably a fish may unwittingly swim near enough to be 
snapped up by a quick motion of his long jaws. But lazy 
and sluggish as he is, and cold as is his blood, there are 
times when it must course swiftly through his veins; for on 
a little island of muck, in the center of a pond, a femaie is 
heaping up a pile of saw-grass and dirt for a nest, while 
~ upon opposite sides of the pond, and just upon the edge of 
the saw-grass, eying her with warm glances of admiration, 
and each other with the sullen glare of hatred, lie two old 
males, whose scarred and bleeding bodies testify that even 
a’Gator’s cold blood is thicker than water. The smaller 
one moves painfully, for his right fore foot is missing— 
the larger one got his jaws upon it, a few rapid turns, and 
the foot was gone, probably soon buried in the stomach 
of the victor. This loss of a foot in fighting is quite com- 
mon, for I have taken three thus maimed and heard of 
others. Again, they may fight for no apparent reason, as 
a reliable witness tells me of a severe and, on the part of 
both, voluntary fight between a large ’Gator and a Shark 
of equal length, in which the former came off victor. 

While the Gator has been known to make an unpro- 
voked attack on a man, and while in isolated regions, when 
not acquainted with fire-arms, it would not be wise to vent- 
ure into water near large ones or the nests of females, still, 
as a rule, they are only too glad to make good ‘their 
escape. 

To those who anticipate sport with the ’Gator, the ques- 
tion naturally arises as to what is the best fire-arm for the 


554 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


purpose. The idea seems prevalent that it requires an 
Express charge to get a bullet into his head. It is a mis- 
take. A thirty-two-caliber bullet, driven by a fair charge 
of powder, would, if it hit squarely, enter any ’Gator’s 
head, and, properly placed, would be as effective as a can- 
non-ball; while a charge of No. 6 shot, at thirty yards, would 
enter his side. Of course, Ido not mean to say that a thirty- 
two-caliber would be a desirable size, but only to make it 
understood that a large, eight-bore Express charge is 
wholly unnecessary. For all-around ’Gator-hunting, I 
would prefer a thirty-eight or forty caliber repeating- 
rifle, giving the flattest possible trajectory consistent with 
accuracy. These sizes are large enough, and in many cases 
a repeater will be found preferable to a single-shot; while 
the flat trajectory will be found especially desirable in 
making long shots over water, where the distance is diffi- 
cult to estimate with a sufficient degree of accuracy to put 
the ball into the small portion of the ’Gator’s head that is 
visible above the water-line. 

As for myself, I used a thirty-eight-caliber Winchester, 
model of ’73, on which I replaced the front sight with one 
made from a’Gator’s tooth, which reflected less light than 
the original metallic one, and filed the rear sight flat on 
top; then with a rough-edged case-knife I cut a fine groove 
in the center. Of all open sights, I like this best, as 
at a quick glance it gives the clearest idea of just how 
coarse or fine a sight you are drawing, and is especially 
advantageous in shooting in twilight. With this rifle so 
sighted, and reloading my own shells, I have killed from 
a moving boat, at from forty to one hundred yards, eight 
swimming ’Gators in as many consecutive shots, hitting 
them all in the ear; but of course this was an exceptional 
run of luck, that Icould never hope to duplicate. In shoot- 
ing any game, it is usually now or never. If the distance 
be great, it is necessary to estimate the same as the gun 
comes to the shoulder—and even with the most experi- 
enced, these estimates are often far from correct; and espe- 
cially over water is this the case. 


ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 555 


When it came to shooting two hundred yards or over, 
unless the ’Gator would kindly wait for a second or third 
shot, he usually escaped, and this escape was. most always 
due to under or over shooting; consequently the desirability 
of a flat trajectory. To be sure, three-fourths of the game, 
at least, killed in wooded countries is killed within one 
hundred yards; but the remaining one-fourth is of sufficient 
importance to justify special effort, first in securing the 
proper rifle, and second in diligent and careful target 
practice, until you can tell just where the ball is going to 
strike at a given distance. In wooded countries, you should 
carry the rifle sighted at say one hundred yards; then at 
fifty yards aim a couple of inches under where you 
desire to hit; at two hundred yards, six inches above, etc. 
In a short time you will learn to estimate distances cor- _ 
rectly, and to hold over or under just enough to bag the 
game, in the majority of cases. 

On the west coast of Florida, between Tampa Bay and 
the Gulf of Mexico, lies the little sub-peninsula of Pinellas, 
which runs out from the west coast much the same as the 
State does from the south coast of the United States, thus 
making a little sub-Florida, with all of her climatic peculiar- 
ities in a slightly intensified degree. Like its mother penin- 
sula from which it springs, Pinellas has its fair number of 
ponds, some creeks and small lakes, all of which support 
their share of animal life; but in this respect Lago Magoire 
outranks all the rest, for, from microscopic crustaceans to 
fish, its shallow waters are unusually full of life. So richa 
part should have its guests, and so it has; for scattered over 
the suface of its waters, and upon the banks of Lago 
Magoire, lie many ’ Gators. 

So much for our game and the arms to take him with; 
and now for a few hunts for him in Lago Magoire. It is 
often as desirable to know what not to do as to know what 
to do; so let us begin with my first ’ Gator. 

Looking across the smooth waters of the lake toward 
its palmetto-lined shore, we saw its surface broken by many 
a long, dark head and an occasional rough back, all lux- 


556 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


uriating in the morning sunshine just reaching them over 
the tops of the tall pines and cabbage palmettos. Confi- 
dent of success, with so many in sight, we pulled for them 
in a boat; but, one by one, as we glided almost near enough, 
sunk slowly beneath the water, leaving but the vanish- 
ing ripple to mark the place where each went down. 
Finally, despairing of finding any asleep, blind, or absent- 
minded, I landed, leaving W—— and the ladies in the boat, 
fishing. After creeping through a hummock of live oak, 
cabbage-palmetto, and undergrowth, I came to a more open 
growth of pines and saw-palmetto, where I could get a view 
of the lake; and on looking down the shore, saw, just off 
a point of land, a half-dozen suspicious-looking objects. 
Making a detour back from the shore, I crept through the 
palmettos toward the point. On arriving at the shore, and 
cautiously looking over my cover, I saw the heads of six 
of the great saurians, all within one hundred yards of 
where I stood. Having always heard that the eye is the 
proper place in which to shoot a ’Gator, I picked out the 
largest, and aiming for his visual organ, fired, only to see 
him start off for deep water at a rapid rate. I kept on 
pumping balls from the Winchester until I had fired seven 
shots, when he halted, lashed the water with his tail, raised 
his head, shook it in a tragic way, and snnk. 

Having to give him up, I soon found others; and by 
repeating my stalking, got within fifty yards of two, who 
discovered me at the same moment, and made such haste to 
leave as to forget to take their heads under water. At the 
first shot, the farther one sunk dead; at the second, the 
nearest one rolled over, raised one fore leg above the water, 
and waved it in a manner so suggestive of ‘‘ Good-bye, 
Brother Watkins,’ that I thought he too was dead. No 
boat being near, and fearing that he would soon sink, I con- 
cluded to wade in and float him ashore. As I intended to 
prepare his skin for mounting, I did not want to tear up 
his skull with any more bullets; so, leaving my rifle on the 
high ground, and cutting a green pine sapling, about three 
inches in diameter, to use in case of necessity, I waded con- 


ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 557 


fidently toward his ’Gatorship, now lying toes up. When 
within a few yards of him, he suddenly began a series of 
revolutions that would have done credit to an acrobat, and 
as he turned the top of his head, displayed a hole as large 
as an orange, where the bullet had knocked out a bone. 

In his struggles, he came within reach of my club, when 
I dealt him a blow that I expected would finish him; but 
the green pine proved too springy to be effective, as it only 
called his attention to my presence, and, with a stroke of 
his tail, he shot toward me. Not having time to retreat, or 
even to raise my club, I quickly stuck the end of it into the 
hole in his skull, and thus keeping him at a short distance, 
began backing toward shore. 

_ Time and again he freed himself from the end of my 
club, and each time advanced to the attack, but only to 
again realize the point of my protest in the sharp end of 
the sapling firmly inserted in his sore spot. 

Thus remonstrating, I finally reached shore, where I 
expected him to give up the attack; but no, his blood was 
up, and in spite of the blows that I rained upon him with 
the springy sapling, he followed me a couple of rods on 
land, when, by a quick grasp, he got my pole in his mouth, 
and by rolling rapidly over in the mud, twisted it from me. 
I soon regained it, however, and belabored him so severely 
that he turned and ran to the water. Having’*begun to look 
upon his skin as belonging to me, I did not like the pros- 
pect of losing it, and so grasping’ the end of his tail as he 
was entering the water, a struggle ensued that fanned me 
around pretty lively, and frequently landed me in the mud; 
but he finally became exhausted, and taking advantage of 
a passive moment, I dragged him back, and beat him until 
he was. stunned; then, turning him over, used a knife on 
him in a way that I thought would be effectual. After 
regaining my breath, I measured him, and found him to be 
eight feet in length. 

On returning to the boat, I saw W —— fast asleep, with 
fishing-line in hand. In response to my excited calling, he 
jumped up, grasped the oars, and began making earnest 


558 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


but awkward efforts to row, that resulted in no movement 
of the boat, but much merriment among the ladies. They 
laughed all the louder as W——’s awkward efforts grew 
more tragic, until, tired of the splashing that they were 
getting, they told him that it was customary to take up the 
anchor before rowing away. 

After reaching the Alligator, we found him again on his 
feet. He was again subjected to the killing process, and 
tied to the landing, where I found him the next day, not 
dead, but still able to walk. I have recounted this advent- 
ure, not in order to show how to kill an Alligator, but to 
illustrate his wonderful vitality and his tenacity of life; 
also to teach Northern sportsmen what course to shun. 

On reaching the place where I had killed the Alligator 
dead at the first shot, we fished him up, and found that I 
had hit him in the ear; and on dissecting his head, learned 
that the brain of a ten-foot Alligator is no larger than a 
man’s thumb; that owing to its small size and location, it 
is not to be reached from the eye unless the ball ranges 
backward and downward after striking; that some of the 
topmost bones of the skull could be removed without 
exposing the brain, and that the proper place to shoot a 
’Gator, when broadside to you, is in the ear, which, ina 
ten-foot animal, is about three inches back of the eye. 
Acting in accordance with the knowledge gained in dissect- 
ing that head, I have since shot over fifty ’Gators, from six 
to eleven feet in length, and seldom failed to kill them 
at the first shot. As a dead ’Gator is such an uncer- 
tain quantity, it is well to run the small blade of a pocket- 
knife down between the occiput and the first cervical 
vertebra, thus severing the spinal cord, which is the most 
effectual way of killing any animal. After treating them 
in this way, I have taken three ’Gators, weighing at least 
two hundred pounds each, into a skiff at one time. 

In regard to the different methods of approach, any 
experienced hunter would be able to choose the best on 
seeing the lay of the land. Shooting from the shore is 
usually most successful; but a boat should be handy, for a 


7 


ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 559 


’Gator usually sinks as soon as killed, if his lungs are not - 
filled with air, and in case they are so filled, it is likely 
to escape as soon as the animal is dead. 

When not too wild, they can be approached in a boat 
even in plain sight; but this depends upon how much they 
have been shot at. Like all reptiles, they learn quickly, 
especially when taught in such impressive ways. 

On warm, sunshiny days, they are especially fond of 
basking on the bank; for even a ’Gator appreciates the 
hygienic value of a sun-bath. Taking advantage of a cer- 
tain morning when the wind was blowing parallel with the 
shore, rigging a skiff with oar-lock in the stern, wrap- 
ping the oar with cloth so as to make it noiseless, and 
tying it to the boat so that it could be dropped without 
losing, I stood, rifle in my right hand and oar in my left, 
only steering when the wind was in my favor, but sculling 
when necessary. Thus gliding noiselessly along the edge 
of the saw-grass, which in places was trampled down by 
Alligators into beds that grew more and more frequent as 
I progressed, I ‘‘kep’ an eye skun,’’ as the Cracker ex- 
presses it, for the long game. As | rounded a small. point, 
I heard a splash, and caught sight of a huge serrated tail, 
as the fast-traveling waves reminded me that the eyes, ears, 
and nose of even a’ Gator are often too sensitive for us, and 
that their sluggish muscle is capable of rapid motion when 
necessary. 

Another and another plunge; but it would not pay to 
wait for them to come up, for it might not be for half an 
hour, and then they might be far out in the lake. 

As I rounded another point, straining every nerve of 
sight and hearing, whack! came a mullet against the boat 
with such force as to give me a nervous start; but the same 
noise gave something else a start, for first a rustling in the 
grass, and then a long, dark head appeared at the edge, 
and, unfortunately for its owner, cast his first glance down 
the lake, and before he could turn his head, a ball had 
crashed through it, and lodged under the tough skin on 
the opposite side. The shot aroused three more saurians, 


‘ 


560 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


the nearest of which fell an easy prey, and turned toes up, 
one foot moving to and fro in a dreamy sort of way. I soon 
sculled alongside of him, threw a noose around his neck, 
took a half-hitch around his jaws to keep them shut, drew 
his head over the stern of the boat, and with a small knife 
severed his spinal cord. He was not over eight feet in 
length, so I easily dragged him aboard. 

Returning to the first "Gator, I got the rope around his 
neck and began pulling him up, when he began rolling, thus 
winding the rope around his body until my hands were 


brought against his rough back, when I had to let go, and 


he went down, and, as the rising bubbles plainly told, was 
crawling along the bottom. Picking up my striking-pole, 
to which was attached a lily-iron and long line, I followed 
the path of bubbles, and when over my game endeavored to 
plunge it into him; but striking under such conditions is 
uncertain work, and it was a good half-hour before I made 
a fortunate throw that buried the iron in his back: Then 
away we went. I rested from my exertions, while taking a 
ride at his expense, until, tired out, he sulked at the bottom. 

Being anxious to dispatch him, I punched him with the 
oar until he, now in fighting humor, came up in good style, 
with an ugly glare in his eyes, and with open mouth made for 
the boat. I thrust the pine oar into his mouth, and picked up 
my rifle. With a snap and a twist, the oar flew throngh the 
air, the handle striking against the boat; the ’Gator having 
broken off a mouthful. He again made for the boat, when, 
with the muzzle of the rifle within two feet of his head, 
another bullet met him, and caused his jaws to drop 
together limp and lifeless. He was eleven feet long, and too 


heavy to lift aboard; but tying a rope near each end of the . 


boat, and passing the loose ends under the ’Gator, then 
taking an end in each hand, and standing on the gunwale so 
as to sink it to the water’s level, by heavy hauling on the 
ropes I rolled him aboard, just as a log is rolled upon a 
wagon. 

On the way to the landing I killed a third ’Gator, that, 
from the way in which he allowed me to approach him, 


ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 561 


must have wanted to commit suicide. The boat was now 
heavily loaded, and sitting astride of the largest, with a 
smaller one on either side, I moved slowly homeward. I did 
not notice the high-piled white clouds that tipped the dis- 
tant pines until the threatening thunder shook the air, and 
the softest of Florida zephyrs, that caress your cheek as 
gently.as the hand of a babe, grew into a breeze, ruffled the 
water, bent low the grass and rushes. Then it came stronger 
and stronger, causing the great pines and palmettos to sing 
their solemn song of complaint, until the heart of Mother 
Nature was full, her passion had reached its height, and 
tears followed. They fell until everything was drenched; 
and then, as quickly as it had come, the storm passed away, 
across the low land beyond the lake, and disappeared over 
the distant pines. The sun came out, and each glittering 
drop did its best to acknowledge and reflect back his smile. 

The rain-drops had beaten the waves down, so that in a 
few minutes the surface of the lake was as smooth as a mir- 
ror. It was soon broken, however, behind me, by a rising 
head and an arched tail. Both raised well out of water, when 
from his mouth came the deep, sepulchral roar of an old bull 
’Gator. Scarcely had its last vibrations died away, when, as 
far as eye could see them, the lake became dotted with high- 
raised heads and arched tails; while from every throat came 
the deep roar that, swelling into a weird chorus, rolled 
across the lake, over the flat shore, and into the pines, as if 
following the rain. 

As to the cause of this Gator concert, I leave others to 
guess. I can not explain it, but would suggest thatall being 
subjected to the same conditions of weather likely to cause 
them to roar, the governing impulse of example of the 
leader was sufficient to start the others—just as a flock of 
chickens, standing idly by the barn, may all stretch out 
their necks, spread their wings, and run in play, simply 
because one of their number started them by his example. 

Next, we concluded to try striking ’Gators by firelight, 
and rigging a jack in the bow of the boat, stored away 


a few armfuls of fat pine. As darkness closed around us, we 
36 


562 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


lit the torch, and with Doctor A—— at the oars, and myself 
standing in the bow, striking-pole in hand, with two hun- 
dred feet of line coiled carefully at my feet, we glided out 
into darkness; yet we were always surrounded by a circle 
of light, that, when the water was not too deep, lit it up to 
the bottom. . 

To our right, darted away an old red-fish, with a speed 
that seemed to be born of the knowledge that he was good 
to eat; while to the left, ran, in hurried confusion, a school 
-of mullet. Sidewise, backward—any way to get away— 
scampered the crabs, every motion showing lively abeyance 
to fear, yet ever presenting their defensive claws in a defi- 
ant way, as if to say, ‘‘ You had better not; I'll bite.”’ 

As we neared the opposite shore, the shadows of the 
tall trees added their strange charm to the dark water, and 
the harsh cry of the startled heron, as he rose from his bed, 
gave filing voice to the weird scene around us. __ 

‘Ouch! Great Cesar!’’ These exclamations gave ex- 
pression to the fact that a sudden gust of wind had swung 
the jack of burning pine against my head and shoulders; 
but there was no harm done beyond singed hair and a 
spattering of hot pitch, that refused to be removed without 
taking the epidermis with it. Then turning my back to 
the light, I saw, off to the left, a pair of ’Gator’s eyes 
lighted up by the glare of our beacon. The Doctor now 
put the boat within twenty feet of the owner of the eyes, 
who blinked wonderingly at the strange apparition. I had 
a fair strike, but the lily-iron happened to strike a bony 
plate, glanced off, and the head of the reptile disappeared 
beneath the dark water. 

Soon the white chin of another appeared within our 
circle of light, and as the pole left my hand, I grasped the 
line, now running out as fast as a nine-foot ’Gator could 
‘travel. The boat was now under headway, the ’Gator 
doing his level best to get away, and swimming head and 
shoulders abeve water; our light swinging to and fro, and 
the water splashing against the boat—all served to give us © 
a novel midnight ride. But our tow-horse soon became 


gE gra emme— 
Dae Gu sewn TRE ng 


A PUGNACIOUS PASSENGER, 


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ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 563 


balky, and a revolver-bullet rolled him over; but as we 
attempted to take him in, he suddenly darted beneath the 
boat, and we could hear and feel his teeth splintering the 
keel. This not being on our programme, we hauled away 
on the line until his head appeared at the surface, when 
the Doctor dealt him.a heavy blow with an ax. 

We then hauled him into the boat, supposing him to be 
dead. He soon recovered from the blow, and seemed to 
conclude that he would paddle the canoe himself. At any 
rate, he did paddle it with his huge tail in a manner that 
- threatened instant destruction to it and to us. We would 
gladly have got out and walked, had the walking been 
good, but it was not; and as for swimming, there were so 
many other ’Gators in sight that we shrunk from the 
thought of escaping in that way. The old saurian was 
reaching for me with his yawning jaws, and fanning the 
Doctor and the boat with his tail in such a terrific fashion 
that it became necessary for us to act promptly in self- 
defense. I managed to get hold of the ax again, and this 
time split our passenger’s head wide open. 

Then we resumed our fishing, and soon had another, a 
small one, not over four feet long, which we took into the 
boat alive, but again had to do some active hopping to avoid 
his snaps. After dispatching him with a piece of ‘ light- 
wood,”’ his infantile appearance relieved us of the desire to 
kill any more, and we turned homeward, fully persuaded 
that, owing to its weird surroundings, spearing by firelight 
is one of the most interesting methods of hunting the Alli- 
gator. « 

Having now tried most of the common ways of approach- 
ing the ’Gators, still another remained to us, and that was 
hunting them with a dog. This is not based upon the 
dog’s love of ’Gator-hunting, but upon the ’Gator’s love of 
dog-hunting. Now, Doctor A—— had a large, worthless 
dog, for which I lacked that kind regard that I usually 
feel for worthy members of his race; for did he not step . 
quietly up behind me, one dark night, and by his sud- 
den ‘‘bow-wow-wow,”’ spoken in close proximity to my 


564 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


coat-tail, cause me to spend the next five minutes in feel- 
ing around on my hands and knees for a lost slipper ? 

The Doctor readily gave his consent to the use of Nep 
as an Alligator-bait, with the request that I would not 
bring him back. After the usual amount of compliments, 
Sek as ‘‘good dog,’’ ‘‘ pretty Nep,’’ ‘‘fine old fellow,” 
etc., had been addressed to his dogship, he kindly con- 
sented to being alternately dragged, led, and carried to the 
lake, where I tied him toa bush at the water’s edge, and 
retiring from his sight, hid in the bushes where I could 
get a good view of the water. . 

Nep supposing that I had left him, set up a series of 
dismal howls, interjected with short, sharp notes, that for 
ear-splitting qualities could only be equaled by a prima 
donna. Soon a few heads, discernible in the distance, 
turned and began to move slowly toward the dog; some in 
~a business-like way, and others so slowly that they scarcely 
seemed to move at all. After reaching the shore, they swam 
back and forth, casting longing glances in the direction 
of the dog, but apparently in no hurry to venture upon 
shore for him. 

After this performance had been kept up for an hour, I — 
tied a heavy stone to Nep, anchored him in water up to his 
neck, and retired to the shore with ready rifle, but anxious 
to see as much of their method of attack as was consistent 
with the safety of the dog. Nep sniffed the water sus-. 
piciously, and made frantic efforts to escape. Soon a dozen 
heads reappeared and moved cautiously toward the poor 
dog, who, with ears laid low, lips rigidly contracted, and 
wild eyes, was alternately uttering defiant growls and 
terrified yells, altogether presenting a fine study of enforced 
defiance. 

One old ’Gator finally approached to Sikh twenty feet 
of the dog, stopped, and slowly began to sink, preparatory 
to darting upon the now frantic Nep. As his attack was 
to be under water, this was as far as I dared let him go; 
and just as his head. was disappearing, q put a bullet 
through it. 


ALLIGATOR-SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. 565 - 


I was tempted to see the attack through, but the pitiable 
cries of the poor dog, worthless though he was, would 
have haunted me if I had not relieved him from the terrible 
position in which I had purposely placed him. When I 
waded in and released him. from his perilous plight, he 
started for home, and only touched the ground a few times 
en route. 


ES OT a ERE LAN TOA BENE Mer Oa ENS Pe PEO 
. 


THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. 


By JonHn DEAN CATON AND W. B. LEFFINGWELL. 


LOVE to leave the noise and rush of city life, where 
man is ever striving with his fellow-man, and set my 
face toward the green wildwood, where Nature reigns 

em supreme. Not alone I go, but with one whose tastes 
are congenial with my own. Aye, not with one only, but 
with two or three, I love to make a journey to some old, 
familiar camp-ground, or to some new and attractive one, 
in the deepest forest we can find, there to pitch our tent 
beside a fountain gushing from the living rock as if some 
Moses in former times had touched it with his wand. The 
music of its waters, as they leap from rock to rock on their 
way to the greater stream below, has often soothed to sleep 
when a hard day’s chase has necessitated repose. 

In the morning, at the break of day, we have climbed 
the bluff above to catch the music of the birds, whose mel- 
ody told of happiness and love. Seated on an old moss- 
clad log, I love to watch the nimble squirrels as they leap 
from bough to bough, or chase each other up and down the 
old pine-trees, or gather acorns from the oaks hard by. 
While thus absorbed in contemplation of these cheery little 
strangers, I have been startled by the great antlered buck, 
as, in bounding leaps, he rushed madly through the brakes, 
startled by the report of my friend's rifle, or in pursuit of 
the timid doe. Oh, how delightful are such scenes! Their 
very remembrance is a joy renewed. 

But it is not alone the charms of solitude that lure us 
from the haunts of men to the wild life of the woods; 
such scenes are but episodes in the hunter's life. He seeks 


the wilderness or the mountain in pursuit of game. When - 
(567 ) 


568 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


upon the chase, he forgets hunger and fatigue. With labo- 


rious, yet cautious steps, he follows the signs that tell him 


there is game ahead; and finally, when in response to the 
echo of his rifle he sees the great quarry plunge forward, 
fall upon his knees, and then stretch himself upon the 
ground, then it is that an exultant thrill flashes through 
every fiber of his frame, so intense as not to be compared — 
with any other joy. Then itis that he measures the pro- 
portions of his capture, and carefully seeks for some new 
feature of the animal to add to his store of knowledge. 
The hunter, above all others, can study the habits of the 
animals he pursues and captures; and so, if he will, may 
gather a fund of knowledge which will be of untold value 
_ to the scientist, who must study only in his laboratory, his 
library, or in his parks. The hunter, who seeks and takes 
the game in its native fastnesses, may thus, I say, give him 
valuable assistance. 

To most sportsmen, companionship is indispensable to 
the full enjoyment of a life in camp. For myself, I have 
ever made this the first consideration when contemplating 
a hunting excursion. One disagreeable companion will 
poison the pleasure of a trip. One who is ever seeking 
some advantage over his associates, and ever boasting of 
his superior skill and greater captures, must soon lose 
favor in the camp. He it is who will shirk some little 
duty which at times is liable to fall upon any member of 
the party. If he discovers a favorable pool for fish, he will 
sneak off by himself, in the hope of capturing a big string, 
and of boastfully triumphing over those who may have | 
been less fortunate. If he happen to make a good shot in > 
the course of the day, he will come rushing into camp with 
a loud whoop, fairly swaggering over his success, and 
insisting that nobody ever made such a shot before, or ever 
will again. He will boast of it for the rest of his life, with- 
out noticing the smile of contempt which his auditors se 
not repress. 

The true sportsman enjoys and commends the success of 
his companions as much as his own achievements. Selfish- 


THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. 569 


ness is the bane of camp life. The selfish man is ever seek- 
ing his own pleasure and gratification regardless of others. 
He appropriates without shame the best of everything 
within his reach. He shirks without scruple his share of 
the duties which devolve upon each, without appreciating 
in what a contemptible light his conduct is viewed by other 
members of the party. He forfeits the respect of his associ- 
ates, and soon contempt takes the place of the mutual 
respect so necessary to a pleasant outing. 

Egotism is scarcely less to be regretted than selfishness; 
indeed, it is closely allied to it. The egotist is ever boast- 
ing of his own achievements and belittling those of others. 
The success of another affords him no pleasure, but rather 
mortification. His ambition is to be considered superior to 
others, and, to secure this end, he will not hesitate to belit- 
tle their acts, if not by direct words, then by covert insin- 
uations. 

Geniality is indispensable to a happy life in camp, and 
this is best promoted when each one seeks to gratify the sen- 
sibilities of the others, by commending their achievements 
rather than by boasting of his own. Sportsmen should, above 
all others, cultivate a cordial,fraternal feeling, in which the 
highest honor, integrity, and liberality should prevail. 

I was once at Cedar Key, Florida, and borrowing some 
fishing-tackle, went down to an old, dilapidated wharf to 
try my hand for sea-trout, which I was told were taken in 
those waters. There I found an elderly man fishing, to 
whom I introduced myself. I told him I was fond of fish- 
ing, but was a stranger to those waters and to the sea-trout, 
which I understood prevailed there. That was introduction 
enough. He kindly offered to tell me what he knew about 
them; and, as he was short of bait, I gladly supplied him 
with some of mine. He explained the mode of angling for 
sea-trout, and then proposed that we go ‘‘cahoots,’’ to 
which, of course, I gladly assented. I imitated his casts as 
closely as 1 could, but somehow the fish knew the ‘differ- 
ence, for every few minutes he landed a fine specimen, after 
a lively run; but very few touched my bait. When we 


570 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


finished, as beautiful a string of fish as one could wish to 
look at lay upon the wharf, the sight of which I admired 
more than I possibly could the taste. The charm was soon 
broken by the old cord-wainer, who proceeded to divide our 
spoils into two equal parts. This I protested should not 
be; but he said it was all right, for if luck had favored him 
the most, the difference was but very small, and as we were 
partners, I was entitled to my half. I could not consent, 
however, to thus deprive him of his game, and settled the 
matter by picking up four out of the pile of perhaps fifteen — 
or twenty, and telling him that was more than I could use. 

We shook hands and parted, with a warmth of feeling 
which, under other circumstances, it might have taken a 
long time to engender. : 

I refer to this incident to illustrate the feeling and 
friendship which should always prevail among sportsmen, 
whether hunting or fishing. He was a man after my own 
heart, and I only regret that opportunity never permitted 
me to meet him again. He had a great heart, and between 
us there at once grew up a fraternal feeling; a cord of sym- 
pathy was drawn out between us which made us brothers, 
and would have prompted us to make great sacrifices for 
each other, if need had been. Would that all sportsmen. 
could thus feel and act toward each other. 

Good-feeling is indispensable to the enjoyment of the 
sportsman’s life. Cordiality alone can make it enjoyable. 
Selfishness and egotism beget dislike; harmony begets cor- 
diality; discord engenders dislike, which not unfrequently 
degenerates to hatred. : 

Allowance may be made for the enthusiasm of the neo- 
phyte, and even approval of it; for who will ever forget the 
exultation which he himself felt when he saw his first Deer 
fall to his rifle? Had he not felt exultant then, it would 
have bespoken a lack of spirit, which one needs to become 
a sportsman; nor will he ever cease to feel a high degree of 
gratification at the moment of a successful capture. But 
to exult in this to the disparagement and discomfort of 
one’s companions is what I wish to discourage. 


THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. 571 


A mere love of slaughter does not bespeak a sportsman; 
that feeling might be better gratified in the abattoir than in 
the woods. No matter how abundant the game, none but a 
brute would ever kill it for the mere pleasure of killing, 
and leave it torot on the ground. The feeling of utility 
must be associated with its capture. If it can not be util- 
ized, a pang of regret must take the place of gratification, 
in the breast of a true sportsman, when he sees his game laid 
prone before him; and how glad would he be were it alive, 
and bounding away through the woods or over the prairie! 

The true sportsman’s camp is a school for the young 
beginner, where he may learn many things besides the mode 
of pursuing and capturing his game. If he be fortunate 
in selecting his associates in his early outings, he will learn 
many things, besides the mode of hunting, which will con- 
tribute largely to the pleasure of his life in after years. 
He will learn how largely acts of kindness and courtesy 
toward his companions contribute to the happiness of all; 
to commend the skill of others rather than to boast of his 
own; to strike or pitch a tent; how to dress his game; to 
cook a meal, when occasion shall require; and a thousand 
other things which need not be mentioned here. He will 
learn that a sportsman may be a gentleman, and indeed 
should be, if he would make himself agreeable to his com- 
panions, and contribute his share to the enjoyment of the 
excursion. 

The true sportsman does not hunt solely for game, but 
for the pleasure it affords him, for health, and to rest him- 
self from the toil of business. In this he is rarely disap- 
pointed. Look about you and see what a large proportion 
of those who have, each year, torn themselves from busi- 
ness, and spent a few weeks in the hunter’s camp, or on the 
banks of streams, enjoy robust health, even in advanced 
age. Their systems, when young, become well knit together, 
their constitutions greatly strengthened, and so they are 
enabled to perform more labor, and with less fatigue, than 
those who lack the energy or the inclination to leave their 
common avocations and seek much-needed rest. 


572 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


I speak not now of those who hunt for game only, for, 
as a general rule, they have no business, which could 
fatigue their minds, at least, if they have minds to be 
fatigued. If they would devote the same effort to some 
other honest pursuit, their gains would be vastly greater, 
taking the season through. That class of men have always 
been called shiftless, and have lacked that degree of 
respectability for which all honest men should strive. 

I regret that there are some who aspire to the name of 
sportsmen, who, on occasion, fall beneath that rank. I 
refer now to those who do not hesitate to shoot game 
or take fish out of season. In a wild and uninhabited 
or sparsely settled country, where the streams are swarm- 
ing with fish, which are never taken because there is no 
one there to take them, or in the far-distant wilds, where 
an abundance of game is found, which is-rarely hunted, 
game laws would be out of place; and so it would be quite 
proper at any time of the year to take as much meat, or as 
many fish, as one’s necessities might require—but even 
then, to capture more than could be utilized would be to 
indulge a brutish and unmanly instinct. But in countries 
where civilization has, to a large extent, driven off the wild 
animals or game birds, all right-thinking men must appre- 
ciate the necessity for laws to protect them from extermi- 
nation; and these laws have just as binding a force upon 
every citizen as that law which says ‘‘Thou shalt not 
steal.’ At least, such is its legal obligation, and so, 
indeed, should it be binding morally. No game law can 
ever be framed which will meet the approval of all; and if 
one man says that he thinks that the close season com- 
mences too early, and therefore he will not observe it, 
another may, with equal propriety, claim that there should 
be no law which would prevent him from shooting game 
animals when he pleases—his father, fifty years ago, shot 
all he wanted, and why should he not enjoy the same right? 

He forgets that conditions are changed, and he must 
admit that it would be very unwise to exterminate all our 
game birds and animals; and yet, unless he and his like 


THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. 573 


are restrained, utter extermination must soon follow in 
those countries where game is beginning to grow scarce. 
The wild animals in any country belong to the State, and it 
is only by sufferance that the State allows anyone to kill 
them; hence the right of the commonwealth to protect the 
wild animals within its borders is as unquestioned as is 
its right to protect its treasure in its vaults. 

On this important subject, civilization may learn some- 
thing valuable from savage life. When the great prairies: 
were first visited by the white man, they fairly swarmed 
with great herds of Bison, and so they continued till they 
were exterminated by the white man’s rifle. As late as 
1840, I saw large collections of their bones on the Illinois 
prairies, still in a good state of preservation; and two miles 
up the south branch of the Chicago River, at a place now 
within the heart of the City of Chicago, for more than half 
a mile the whole surface of the ground was covered with 
Buffalo-wallows, so that it was difficult to drive a wagon, 
except at a very slow rate, over the surface. Other large 
game was equally abundant throughout this great valley at 
an early day, and so it had undoubtedly been for untold 
ages. During all this time, large tribes of Indians inhab- 
ited every part of it, whose principal subsistence was the 
game they killed and the fish they caught; but they wasted 
none, they only killed to supply their wants, and the 
result was that the game was never depleted, but continued 
as abundant year after year, and century after century, 
as it had ever been. While this could not continue 
in a country densely settled by civilized man, there 
are large districts of country where the conditions are 
such as to be well adapted to the well-being of every 
species of wild animal known to the country, if the 
white man, who seeks them, would only kill enough to 
supply his wants. The smaller game, such as grouse and 
water-fowl, are still with us, and would be in great abun- 
dance forever, were they but reasonably protected, and no 
more killed than enough to supply the legitimate needs of 
those who hunt them, and at the proper seasons. Let us, 


574 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


I say, learn a lesson from the Indians who preceded us, and 
not extend our slaughter beyond reasonable limits. If we 
will not spare the game from choice, then society must 
interpose, and compel us to do what we should do volun- 
tarily. Imagine a country entirely destitute of wild ani- 
mals, where all the native fauna have become extinct, and 
to most men it would seem like a desert, many of its 
choicest charms would be gone, and it would become the 
most fitting abode for the miser, whose happiness consists 
in counting his gold. | 

When the white man drove the Bison beyond the Mis- 
souri River, it gathered in countless herds on the great 
plains east of the Rocky Mountains, and filled the country. 
from Texas to the Saskatchewan. But twenty years ago 
that whole country was covered with the Bison, in numbers 
almost beyond computation, and there was the grandest 
hunting-ground ever known in any part of the world. So 
great were their numbers that it was thought they never 
could be exterminated; and yet, a single score of years has 
sufficed to blot them from the face of the earth, with but 
very few exceptions. Had Congress done its duty, and 
stretched out its arm to protect this, the grandest game 
animal in the world, we should now have a preserve which 
would be the boast of every true American; but it is too 
late now—that great opportunity is forever gone. A few 
may be preserved in the Yellowstone Park, but only 
enough for specimens; the area is too limited for more. 
Other large game may be there preserved, but only to the 
same extent. Had the Government acted upon General 
Sheridan’s recommendation, made some years ago, to greatly 
enlarge that park by the addition of a mountain district 
adjoining it, which can never be useful for any other pur- 
pose, then indeed we might in time have had a collection of 
wild animals peculiar to our country, approximating, at 
least, their condition in a wild state. 

Had each white man who went to hunt the Buffalo been 
as reasonable in his tastes as the ignorant red man; had he 


killed to supply his reasonable wants, and no more—law or — 


THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTs. 575 


no law—we should yet have had the great herds of Bison. 
Would all men do so from this time on, we should always 
have Elk, Deer, Moose, and Caribou. But if men continue 
to kill everything they can reach with their lead, whether 
they need it or not; if men are allowed to hunt for the 
market: and for simply the skins of these noble animals, 
then all of them will soon be extinct. 

In conclusion, let me beseech all sportsmen to maintain 
the dignity of the craft to which they belong, and to exert 
all their influence to elevate the standing of that craft and 
to preserve our game and fishes. Jon 


Let any man wander through the forests, and let there 
come wafted to his ears, on the wings of the wind, sweet 
melody from the throat of some feathered songster; let 
him trace, through the ambrosial leaves, the secreted 
place of his serenader; yet, when he sees the bird, he may 
not behold one resplendent in brilliant colors, clothed in 
gaudy raiment, cloaked with feathers dazzling in their 
sweeping or trailing beauty, but rather one modest in 
appearance, subdued in colorings, but whose lack of luster 
is more than balanced by the heavenly music that warbles 
and tremors, that pipes and is lost in mournful cadence as 
its flute-like tones vibrate and thrill deliciously through the 
woods. So it is with man. Clothing does not make a gentle- 
man; gentility, if he possess it, is born and bred in him, and 
asserts itself unsolicited; is ever on the surface, and, like 
the gurgling spring, bubbles forth and is never-ending. 

We are nearly all more or less barbarians, not in the 
sense of lacking enlightenment and rejoicing in the fruits 
of civilization, but in our love for out-of-door life and the 
sports of the field; and when I find a man who is not easily 
drawn toward the pleasures of the field; who does -not 
rejoice in the opportunity to walk forth and commune with 
Nature; who does not love to follow the banks of some 
winding stream, and tempt the trout or the gamy bass with 
his alluring bait; or to follow the baying hounds as they 


576 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


leap from crag to crag, rushing through the dells, over hill 


and dale, in the thickets, or in the tall prairie-grass; orin 


milder sports, with faithful Setter and armed with light and 
easy-hanging gun, to seek the woodcock among the alders 
and brakes, or the confiding quail on the golden stubble— 
when I find a man who does not love these pastimes, it 
seems to me that Nature has been derelict, and has neg- 
lected to engraft into his being the highest attributes of 
manhood. : 

Not love Nature ?—the flowing streams, the placid lake, 
the waving prairie, the majestic forest, the grand, towering 
mountain, the sublime, peaceful valley? When a man can 
say, truly, that the cares of business have weaned him from 
the love of these things, then the longing for wealth, its 
power and influence, has torn from him the enjoyment of 
some of the greatest blessings of our life. We often wish 
some dear friend or some honored guest, as he bids us good- 
bye after having favored us with his companionship for a 
time, health, wealth, and prosperity; but the greatest bless- 
ing we could bestow on him, had we the power, would be 
perfect health. Yet it is within the province of nearly every 
man to possess it, if he will. Itis not to be found in the 
shop, the office, the store, or beneath the roof of buildings 
made by man; it can be realized in its entirety only in the 
open fields, in the forests, on the streams, when the earth is 
bathed in sunshine, or when the Goddess of Night casts her 
mantle over tired Nature, and kisses to rest the departed 
day, breathing into her sleeping form the sweet incense of | 
renewed life, as she bathes the verdure with her tears of 
dew which gladden our existence. : 

A selfish person we despise; but he who loves the fresh- 
ness of the fields is not, nor ever will be, selfish. There is 
a charm which seems to dwell in the balsam of the firs, in 
the purity of the fields, in the odor of the flowers, which 
descends from the blue vault of heaven by day and lingers. 
through the starry night, forever ennobling and enriching 
the heart of him who loves the fields. You say of him, he 
loves dogs or horses. Show me the man who does, and 1 


THE ETHIO8 OF FIELD SPORTS. 577 


will see in my presence one who is kind, generous, and 
brave; for one can not love animals and delight in their 
companionship without learning from them lessons of 
unselfishness, and without becoming himself the soul of 
generosity. Still, we must admit, reluctantly, that there 
are exceptions to this as well as to all other rules, and we 
would not conceal the fact that there are so-called sports- 
men who are selfish. These exceptions simply prove the 
rule we have stated. 

As at times that which seems most perfect in appearance 
is sullied with hidden defects, so it is with some sportsmen. 
It often takes years, in the ordinary coursé of business or 
social life, to find out a man’s true nature; but if you will 
but camp with him, hunt with him, or tramp with him, on 
some nomadic excursion for a few weeks, his real character 
will become as open and plain to read and to understand 
as an open book when the day is at its brightest. 

Were I to invite you to my house, you would be an hon- 
ored guest. All the sources within my power, so far as my 
means might permit, would be brought forward in order to 
make you feel that you were welcome, and that my aim 
and desire were merely the gratification of your pleasures. 
The hospitality which one friend so gladly extends to 
another, you would expect, and I would accord you. Sup- 
pose, however, I broaden the invitation, and, instead of 
inviting you to my house, solicit you to enjoy, as my guest, 
the pleasures of my fields. Should there be a distinction 

in my manner of treatment of you, as between my house 
and my fields? Most assuredly not. Yet I have been 
received with the greatest cordiality at a man’s house, who 
left me under many obligations to him as I bade him good- 
night, but who has chilled me, and canceled all the kindly 
feeling I had for him, by his selfishness on the following 
day. Taking me to fields where game was plentiful, he has 
shot throughout the day, taking first choice of ground and 
of shots on all occasions, apparently without the least com- 
punction of conscience, regardless of all etiquette or com- 


mon decency. 
37 


578 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


If you were my guest, my desire would be to make your 
_ visit a pleasant one; it would make no difference whether 
at home or afield. Were I to seat you at my table, then 
help myself before offering you the choicest before us, you 
would rightly consider me a boor. Yet some men, who pro- 
fess to be sportsmen, and who would show no such ill- 
breeding at their table, will, in their shooting, rob their 
guest of his shots regardless of the birds’ flight. Then, at 
the close of the day’s sport, after having acted the part of 
the swine in picking out the choicest ground for themselves, 
and shooting birds that did not belong to them under the 
rules of the field, and that they knew would have been 
bagged by their guest, they will boast to some country 


bumpkin of how they killed ‘‘twiced as many as the other — 


feller, who is considered a mighty good shot.” 

I know of no one so despicable to hunt with as such a 
man; and yet, linked to him in the closest alliance is the 
one who fires at every bird, and constantly claims that he 
kills each one that falls.. There is nothing more disgusting 
than this; and when a gentleman is unwittingly found in 
the company of such a man, the day is spoiled for him. 
He wonders what he has done that a punishment so hard to 
endure should have been inflicted on him. 

The fields may be broad, the space unbounded wherein 
to hunt, and yet there is neither breadth nor depth enough 
to any field to justify a gentleman sportsman in shooting in 
company with such a man. . 

When a man claims the killing of a bird at which both 
he and his companion have fired, the claimant not only 
shows his selfishness, his lack of gentlemanly qualities, but 
shows his lack of confidence in his own skill. The crack- 
shot doesn’t need to claim his bird, for when the trigger is 
pulled, it seems to him that he intuitively sees the charge 
of shot reach its intended mark, notes its effect, and knows 
whether or not he has bagged the bird; therefore, the true 
sportsman will not claim the bird under such circumstances, 
and will say nothing; or, if with a younger and more inex- 
perienced companion, will insist that his comrade made the 


ayer 5 


Pee as ee 


eee eT ee nd 


T 


THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. 579 


successful shot, and that his own aim was untrue. It is 
such trivial acts of self-denial and generosity that endears 
to the hearts of inexperienced shots their more skillful and 
experienced brothers. 

When a sportsman shows the courtesies in the field, 
which he should do unsolicited, and with pride and pleas: 
ure, he is entitled to no reward for merit, but simply car- 
ries out the lessons of unselfishness which his association 
with Nature and with gentlemen has taught him. 

When you invite a friend to be your guest on a hunting 
or fishing trip, you honor yourself with his presence. Your 
path is plainly before you, and leads in only one direction. 
It is plainly your duty to make the day one of the happiest 
possible for him. How best to do this, the circumstances 
of the case and your own gentlemanly instincts should 
teach you. You should insist on his accepting the first 
shot; and if he should be so unfortunate as to miss, don’t 
add to his chagrin by trying to bag the bird before he has 
fired his second barrel, but let him shoot again. Better let 
the bird go free than violate the courtesies of the craft. 

As you enter the field with him, tell him he is to shoot 
first; then, placing him at your left—because most men can 
shoot better at left-quartering birds—tell him you will take 
turns with him on straight-away birds, but he is to fire at 
those going to the left, while you will take those going to 
the right. Should it happen that most of the birds fly to: 
the right, exchange places, or insist that he take every alter- 
nate shot going to the right. Human life is like a piece of 
machinery—they both need the best of oil to make them 
work smoothly and successfully; and there is nothing 
which attains its end with a man so effectually as gentle, 
unobtrusive, thoughtful preferences which are delicately 
thrust upon him. They may be small, but they show that 
a man’s heart is right; and by showing your guest such 
attentions and courtesies, even for a day, you make him 
your friend for life. 

The old saying, that ‘“‘Two is company, and three is a 
crowd,”’ is true here; for, in upland shooting, but two 


580 BIG GAME OF NORTH AMERICA. 


should hunt together. Where there are more than two 
shooting over the same dog, or pair of dogs, it causes con- 
fusion to the hunters, excites the dogs, and smacks too 
strongly of game extermination. 

It would be impossible to live up to the rules of field 
etiquette were we to indulge in club-hunts. They ought 
not to be called club-hunts, but, rather, extermination 
hunts; for this is the effect, although not primarily the 
object of them. Iam opposed to the congregating of indi- 
viduals for the purpose of choosing sides, then hunting and 
declaring the winners on a score of points, on game of any 
kind. No matter how honest a man’s intentions are, if he 
allows himself to join these destructive forces, he lowers 
himself to their level, and in his anxiety that his side shall 
win, may stoop to secure game by unsportsmanlike methods. 

Let him see a covey of quails on the ground, and he is 
extremely liable to forget for the moment his love of legiti- 
mate sport, his desire to give each bird a chance for its life, 
and to fire at the covey. He picks up the result of his pot- 
shot, looks guiltily around, then secretly congratulates 
himself on the number of ‘‘points’’ gained. When aman 
allows the element of profit to enter into the day’s hunt, 
avarice, greed, and the desire for a big bag cloud the mind, 
dull the conscience and the beauties of Nature, and the 
proper love for field sports are for the time forgotten—the 
hunter is converted into a mercenary creature who deserves 
the contempt of honorable sportsmen. ‘The same precepts 
and principles here declared as to the shooting of feathered 
game, apply with equal force to the hating of Big Game 
or the taking of fish. 

Our game, both large and poe. is fast disappearing, 
and our attention should at all times be directed to its pres- 
ervation. The true sportsman will limit himself to a 
decent-sized bag, whether the law of the State wherein he 
shoots requires this or not; and when he has killed sufficient 
for himself and friends, ilk cease to shoot, even though 
there be whole. coveys of birds, or whole herds of Elk or 
Deer, still in sight. 


SS —— ee ee. 


— a 


ae ee 


ee a ee ey Te ee ce 


a a. oe 


~ 


THE ETHICS OF FIELD SPORTS. 581 


I have neither the space nor desire to enter into an elab- 
orate discourse, giving advice to young men as to their 
duties afield; but a gentleman is the same in the field as in 
the drawing-room, and when a man is found who is selfish 
in the field, depend upon it he is so elsewhere, and in busi- 
ness-life will prove decidedly unpleasant to deal with. 

Many of our greatest minds have found steadfast and 
undying friendship among children of the forest; untaught 
they were, and deprived of ordinary educational advantages 
~—but the solitude of the wilderness, and the purity of the 
untainted and unpolluted fields and streams, imbued them 
with honesty, generosity, and freedom from deceit. The 
sportsman, then, will find his greatest happiness in the 
open air, and his life will be prolonged and bettered for it; 
and as he wanders through some shady dell, and feels and 
knows he is alone, he notes the golden bars of sunlight 
streaming through the clustering leaves, seats himself 
beside some gurgling brook, and as the birds sing sweetly 
to him, soliloquizes: ‘‘ Nature never did betray the heart 
that loved her. ’Tis her privilege through all the years of 
this, our life, to lead from joy to joy; for she can so inform 
the mind that is within us, so impress with quietness and 
beauty, and so feed with lofty thoughts, that neither evil 
tongues, rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, nor 
greetings where no kindness is, nor all the dreary inter- 
course of daily life, shall e’er prevail against us, or disturb 
our cheerful faith that all which we behold is full of 


blessings.”’ W. B. L. 


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An analytical treatise on American deer hunting, and the use of the rifle in the field. With 
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CALIFORNIA 


S REACHED in the most comfortable manner through 
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by snow and extreme cold experienced on more northerly 
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Rates, Maps, and all information furnished on application 
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The Northern Pacific Railroad is the Shart Line to Helena, 
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THE ANTELOPE AND DEER 


OF AMERICA. 


A Comprehensive Treatise on the Natural History, Including 
the Characteristics, Habits, Affinities, and Capacity 
for Domestication, of the 


ANTELOCAPRA AND CERVIDA 


OF NORTH AMERICA. 
By JOHN DEAN CATON. 


8Svo, 426 Pages, 54 Illustrations. Cloth, $2.50 


PUBLISHED AND FOR SALE BY 


FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CoO., 
318 Broadway, New York City. 


FRED. AAEMPFER, 


TAXIDERMIST, AND DEALER IN 


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: 


ARTIFICIAL GLASS EYES FOR STUFFED BIRDS, ANIMALS, FISH, Etc. 
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Birds and animals of all kinds mounted to order. Mounting of deer, elk, and buffalo 
heads aspecialty. 


FRED, KAEMPFER, No. 169 E. Madison St., Chicago, III. 


CRUISINGS IN THE CASCADES 


A NARRATIVE OF 


Travel, Exploration, Amateur Photography, Hunting & Fishing 
With Special Chapters on Hunting the 


Grizzly Bear, the Buffalo, Elk, Antelope, Rocky Mountain Goat, and Deer; also 
on Trouting in the Rocky Mountains; on a Montana Roundup 3 : 
Life among the Cowboys, Ete. 


BY G. O. SHIELDS (“COQUINA"), 
Author of “ RUSTLINGS IN_THE ROCKIES,” ‘‘ HUNTING IN THE GREAT WEST,” 
“‘THE BATTLE OF THE BiG HOLE,” Etc. 


12mo. 3)0 Pages. 75 Illustrations, Cloth, $2.00; Half Calf, $3.00. 


The learned writer, scientist and = tig er Col. W. D. Pickett, better 
known as ‘P.,” says of this book: ** The true lover of nature who delights 
to occasionally escape from the annoyances and worriments inseparable 
from so-called civilized life, and to wander amid scenes that tell only of the 
infinite power, the beneficence, and the grandeur of the Great Ruler; who 
delights to worship in the grandest of all His temples—the mountains; who- 
realizes and feels His presence on every mountain peak, in every dark 
canyon, in every rushing wind, in every gentle zephyr, and who, amid such 
scenes, above all realizes his own weakness and 4littleness; he it is who will 
take pleasure in following the author amid some of the grandest and most 
beautiful scenery on this continent.” ; 

Mr. T. 8. Van Dyke, author of “The Still Hunter,” and other popular 
books, says: ‘It is one of the most entertaining books on field sports yet. 
publishe . Mr. Shields always has something to say, and says it ina way 
that makes one see it. He is never dull, and there is an air of truth about 
his work that fully satisfies the reader.” 

Mr. Orin Belknap, known and loved of all sportsmen by his familiar 
pseudonym of ‘* Uncle Fuller,’’ says: ‘* The author of this work has placed 
the sportsmen of America under pte Wedanns rear by his pleasing descrip- 
tions of his adventures in the wilds of these little-known mountains.” 

‘In all that pertains to exploration, the wild journeys into wild places, 
the dangerous ascent of rugged peaks and no less perilous descent into 
obscure valleys, hitherto untrodden by the foot of man,the lungs expanded. 
with deep breaths of untainted air, the blood bounding with sudden pros- 
pects and unexpected discoveries, the keen feeling of full and abundant life 
and the nearness of the great heart of nature—in all this the author wins,. 
and deserves to win, the hearty sympathy of readers of every cast of 
thought, opinion and condition.”—Belford’s Magazine. 

en B. Leffingwell, the gifted author of ** Wild Fow! Shooting,” and 
of ‘*Shooting on Upland, Field, and Marsh:” ‘I have rarely encountered, 
anywhere, such vivid descriptions of life in the mountains as are found in 
*Crusings in the Cascades.’ ”’ 

**Men who enjoy jaunts into the woods in search of big game will find. 
this book extremely interesting.”,—New York Herald. : 

‘**Cruisings in tne Cascades’ is by far the best thing Coquina has ever 
written.”—American Field. : 

“It is a handsomely printed and finely illustrated volume, made up of 
spirited sketches of travels, explorations, hunting and fishing. It is charm- 
ingly interesting. The author mingles solid facts of great value with 
accounts of his wild adventures, and tells the story with an off-hand style 
that banishes sleep from tired eyes.””—Chicago Inter-Ocean. 

‘**Cruisings in the Cascades’ is Mr. Shields’ latest, and, we think, best. 
publication. It will be heartily appreciated by American sportsmen.”— 
Shovting and Fishing. . J : 

“The pages are breezy and the illustrations numerous and attractive, 
the camera having. been freely used by the author in his travels.”--Turf,. 
Field and Farm. 

** Mr. Shields is not only a hunter, but an angler, and an amateur photo- 
grapher, and on his excursions in the mountains has made good use of his 
opportunities. Asa narrative of adventure the book is entertaining, and as. 
a record of sport it will delight many readers.”’—The Literary World. 

‘‘Tt is sure to meet with a large sale.”— Chicago Tribune. 

“It is by all odds the most fascinating book on big game hunting ever 
published.”—The Journalist. i 

This book will be mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by 


RAND, McNALLY & CO., Publishers, 
CHICAGO... 


The American 
Book of the Dog 


The Origin, Development, Special Characteristics, Utility, 
Breeding, Training, Diseases, and Kennel Manage- 
ment of all Important Breeds of Dogs. 


A Book for Dog Fanciers and Dog Owners 


- 


EpITED BY G. O. SHIELDS (“‘Coaquina”), 


Author of ‘‘Cruistnes IN THE CASCADES,” ‘‘ RUSTLINGS IN THE RockrEs,” 
‘““HUNTING IN THE GREAT WEsT,” ‘‘ THE BarrLe oF THE Bic 
Ho.z,” ‘‘TaHe Bra GAME oF NortH AMERICA,” 

‘* CAMPING AND CAMP OUTFITS,” etc. 


8yo, 700 Pages, 85-Illustrations. 


Cloth,-$4.00; Half Galf, $5.00. 


CONTENTS. 


The irra | Setter — Bernard Waters, Kennel 
Editor The American Field, and author of 
“Modern Training, Handling, and Kennel 
Management.” 

The Irish Setter—Max Wenzel, Secretary The 
Irish Setter Club of America, and B. F. 
‘Seitner, Vice-President The Pointer Club 
of America. 

The Gordon Setter—Harry Malcolm, prominent 
The American Gordon Sctter Clu 

The Pointer....... Charles K, WeetbrookpA. M 

The Greyhound—Col. Roger D. Williams, Presi- 
dent The Iroquois Hunting and Riding Club. 

The Deerhound........ .. Dr. o. Van Hummell. 

The Foxhound—Dr. M. G. El zey, Associate 
Editor The National Economist. 


The Bassethound........... Lawrence Timpson. 

The Dachshund...............- William Loeffler. 

The Bloudhound............c000. J.L. Winchell 

The Russian by ee eo Redte ees William Wade. 

The Peco ie Schelihass President The 
can Eiigiish Beagle Club 


The Irish Water Spaniel—P. T. Madison, Secre- 
tary T 


he Indiana Kennel C 


President he American Spaniel Club, 
The Cocker Spaniel......... .... . Otis sig oat 
The F x Terrier—August Belmont, Jr., Presi 


dent The American Kennel Club, and ithe 
American Fox Terrier Club, 


The Chesapeake Bay Dog- Gores W. Kierstead. 


The Bedlington Terrter.......... WV. H. Russell. 
"THE ITISh: TOrrie?... 6cic kes ends ees pr. "3.8. Niven. 
TH BOIL TOrPier 5 5. cscs vee ctcens Frank F. Dole. 
The White English Terrier......... E. F. Burns. 
The Airedale Terrier........... F. H. F. Mercer. 


The Scottisn Terrier............ John H. Naylor. 
The Dandie Dinmont Terrier—John H. Naylor. 
The Skye Terrier............ Lawrence Timpson. 
The Black and Tan Terrier.....Dr. H. T. Foote. 
The Maltese Terrier........ Miss A. H. Whitney. 
The Collie—Henry Jarrett and J. E, Dougherty. 
The Old English Sheep Dog. . William Wade. 
The Great Dane ba ints ~ Dog eS PERS 
"rc 


. H. Maenner. 

The St. Bernard....... Beakousic teed F. E. Lamb. 
pg oe ts), ee ...William Wade. 
The Ah de semi L. F. Whitman. 
TMG BUUNOG his vidscsuectiereses John E, Thayer. 
The Dalmatian Coach ty ESCA eee 
faj. T. es Woodcock. 

ETI OOUG ss ic hao she pe CRS Ra ce eS . R. Furness. 


ey kaigu she ceed caeseh de ccopes G. W. Fisher. 

The Mexican Hairless Dog....Mrs. a! Foote, 

The Toy Spaniels—Miss Marion E. Bannister, 
Secretary The New York Pet Dog Club. 

The Schipperke... 2.0... +-ceseess E. R. Spalding. 

Diseases of the Dog, and their Me gh 

J. Frank Perry (“Ashmont”), author of 


‘Dogs; Their Management and Treatment 
in Disease.’ 
Spaniel Training.... ......+.... F. H. F. Mercer. 


This book will be mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by 
RAND, McNALLY & CO., 162 to 172 Adams St., Chicago. 


Camping s¢Camp Outfits — 


A MANUAL OF INSTRUCTION FOR YOUNG 
-AND OLD SPORTSMEN. 


BY G. O. SHIELDS (“COQUINA”), 


3 

7 

Author of ‘‘CRUISINGS IN THE CAscADEs,” ‘‘THE Bia GAME oF NoRTH L. 
AMERICA,” ‘‘ RUSTLINGS IN THE RockrEs,” HUNTING IN THE GREAT 3 
West,” ‘‘THe BaTrLe oF THE Bia Hoe,” ete. : 7 

a 

3 

* t 

12mo. 170 Pages. 30 Illustrations. Cloth, $1.25. x 

# 

? 

The book also contains a chapter by Dr. CHARLES GILBERT DAVIS, on : 
CAMP HYGIENE, MEDICINE, AND SURGERY; one by Col. J. FRY a 
LAWRENCE, on CAMP COOKERY; and one by FRANK F. Fs 
FRISBIE, on THE DIAMOND HITCH, OR HOW TO * 


LOAD A PACK HORSE. 


“Every reader of sportsmen’s literature will recognize, at once, the fact that, herein, 
Mr. Shields has a subject on which he is thoroughly competent to instruct. The book is the 
result of thirty years’ experience in the woods and mountains, and bristles with points from 
cover to cover. The articles by Dr. Davis, Col. Lawrence, and Mr. Frisbie, on Camp Medicine s 
and Surgery, Camp Cookery, and the Diamond Hitch are also timely and full of instruc- 
tion.”"—American Field. 


‘** Any young man, or old one either, not experienced in camp life, who is anticipating 
an outing in the woods, will find this neat volume a good investment. It is no theoretical 
writing, but a book born of experience, wise in its suggestions, and good upon every page. 
It is not often one sees a more thoroughly practical writing. It covers everything: The 
outfit in clothing, ip food, in tackle, in implements, with valuable advice to govern life in : 
camp. Old sportsmen will enjoy this volume so pleasantly written, although it may tell 3 
them little that they have not already learned from experience, and young ones will find it 
invaluable.”’-—Chicago Inter-Ocean. 


‘‘This book should be in the library of every sportsman, and will save its cost many 
times to each and every purchaser, by the practical and useful instruction it imparts.”— 
Chicago Herald. 


‘“‘Mr. Shields has been camping and studying woodcraft for a quarter of a century, 
and surely should and does know about all there is of camp lore. In ‘‘Camping and Camp 
Outfits ** he wastes no words, but gets to the point by the shortest route. Every page, and 
every line, conveys valuable information. Old campers will enjoy reading this book because 
it is practical, and young campers can not afford to be without it.”"—Sports Afield. 


This book will be mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by 
RAND, McNALLY & CO., 162 to 172 Adams Street, Chicago. 


- 


merican —*t 


Game 


ishes 


How, When, and Where to Angle for them. 


EDITED PY 


G. O. SHIELDS (“COQUINA”), 


Author of ‘‘CruisinGs In THE CASCADEs,” ‘‘ RusTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES,” 


“HUNTING IN THE GREAT WeEst,” ‘‘THE BATTLE OF THE BiG 


Hour,” ‘‘ THe Big Game or Norra AMERICA,” 


**CAMPING AND CAMP OUTFITS,” etc. 


; | CONTENTS. 


TRS BOIMON sss. svccesen cosecne Charles Hallock, 
Associate Editor The American Angler ; 
author of ‘The Sportsman’s Gazetteer,” etc, 

The Pacific Salmon..W. A. Perry(“‘Sillalicum”’), 
Author of “ Elk- -Hunting in the Olympic 
Mountains " ete 

The Land- iy Salmon...J. = er ae. 


“Camping aud Cruising in patel * etc, 


FHS OPPO eee eae a poke N. Haldeman, 
Proprietor The Louisville easier Journal. 
oe Striped Bass. ..........- Francis Endicott, 


nguns ng Editor Opting. brag 
The BIQSNA i viccsviedss Prof. G. Brown Goode, 
scaltant Secretary 1 ne Smitnsonian Insti- 
tution, andauthor of ‘American Fishes” etc. 
The MusKallonge............. Dr. J. ae Henshall 
and A. A. Mosier. 
The Brook Trout....F.H. Thurston (*Kelpie”). 
Trouting on the Ni pigon...... 1. H. Murray, 
Pete” ot of “Daylight Land, * Adirondack 

etc. 

The Rocky Mountain Trout........G. O. Shields 
(“Coquina”’). 


3 


The Mackinaw Trout...... Rev. Luther Pardee. 
Sea Bags, Sea Trout, Spanish Mackerel,Grouper, 
Mangrove Snapper, Sheepsheusd, and other 


Southern Fishes,........... +. 8. C. Clarke, 
Author of ‘Fishes of the Atlantic Coast,’’etc. 
THO Greviing. 50:65 cscs civss, ssaes F. H. Thurston. 
The Wall-Eyed PUG sins Suara ces ha A, A. Mosier. 
ERG PIGKEPON. <5. 5 382s ccursa eee. be? W. D. Tomlin. 
THO WHItE POrOn: 2 sci vacavevcsous Fred. Mather, 


Late Angling Editor Forest and Stream, and 
member of United States and New York 
State Fish Commissions. 

The Yeliow Bass, White Bass, Strawberry Bass, 
Rock Bass, Crappie, Sunfish, Yellow Pere h, 
and other minor Fishes ........ 

Prof, David Starr Jordan, 

President The University of Indiana; author 

of “Synopsis of Fishes of North America,” 
“Science Sketches,” etc. 

The paueee of Fishes ..:..... bb aes C. Harris, 


E 
Fishing Tackle, and How to Goce 1 aerate, 8 
J. shatahegy ton Keene. 
Reels, Their Use and Abuse.. . C. Milam. 
The Angler’s Camp Outfit... .... .G, O, Shields: 


This book will be mailed, post-paid, on receipt of price, by 


RAND, McNALLY & CO., 162 to 172 Adams St., Chicago. 


BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 


THE BATTLE OF THE BIG HOLE 


A History of Gen. Gibbon’s Engagement with the 
Nez Perce Indians, in the Big Hole Basin, 
Montana, August 9, 1877. 
l2mo. 150 Pages, Profusely Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00. 


. 


Read the following indorsment of the book from General Gibbon: 


A HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE COLUMBIA, 
VANCOUVER BARRACKS, W. T., August 11, 1889. 
Mr. G. O. SHIELDS, Chicago, Ill. ‘ 

DEAR Sir: I was very much pleased with your account of the Big Hole 
fight, and I believe your statement of the facts are all ee, given. The 
book is well written and handsomely printed and bound. The likenesses 
are all goodand easily recognizable. If I were to criticise your book at all, I 
should say that your comments on the story are somewhat too complimen- 
tary to myself. ‘ ; 

I thank you for piacing on record, in a permanent shape, such a satis- 
factory account of the battle. 

; Very truly yours, JOHN GIBBON. 


And this from Captain Coolidge: 

CAMP PiILoT Butte, Wyoming, March 17, 1889. 
Mr. G. O. SHIELDS, Chicago, 111. 

DEARSriIR: Ihave read witha great deal of interest and pleasure the 
manuscript of your book, entitled “The Battle of the Big Hole,” and as a 
participant in the tragic affair it describes can cheerfully commend it to 
all who are interested in obtaining a true history of the Nez Percé campaign. 
It is a graphic and truthfulaceount of the Big Hole fight, and of the events 
leading up to it, and must prove a most valuable contribution to the history 
of our Indian wars. 

I trust the book will meet with the generous reception it deserves. 

Yours truly, CHAS. A. COOLIDGE, 
Capt. 7th U.S. Infty. 


“It is good to recall from time to time the gallant conduct of our sol- 
diersin the West, and Mr. Shields isto be thanked for refreshing people’s 
memories in regard to this important event.”—New York Times. 


“Ttis a graphic story of Indian warfare, and the author is to be thanked 
for the manner in which he has agai brought to remembrance the story of 
a battlein which the brave and historic Seventh Infantry won a great 
renown. The book is a valuable addition to the history of the Great West.” 
—Chicago Herald. 


“It isan exciting history of Gen. Gibbon’s engagement with the Nez 
Percé Indians. Itisa well-told story, printed in large, clear type, with 
many portraits of the actors in the contest.’’—Chicago Inter Ocean. 


“In the battle of the Big Hole, Mr. G. O. Shields (Coquina) gives an 
exceedingly interesting description of one of the most desperate fights in the 
-history of our Indian wars. e gives his readers a very accurate idea of 
some of the hardships necessarily endured in such Western campaigns, and 
takes occasion to eulogize, in no faint terms, the American soldier in gen- 
_ and General John Gibbon in particular.”—Journal of the Military Serv- 
ice Institution. 


This book will be mailed, post-paid,on receipt of price by 
RAND, McNALLY & CO., Publishers, 
CHICAGO. 


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BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 


Hunting in the Great West. 


(Rustlings In the Rockies.) 


12mo Cloth. Over 300 Pages, Illustrated. Price, 75 Cents. 


TENTH EDITION LATELY ISSUED. 


C-O:-N°T-E:N:°T’S. 


PART !. RUSTLINGS IN THE ROCKIES. 
PART Il. IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 
PART III. TEN DAYS IN MONTANA. 
PART IV. THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 
PART V. MISCELLANEOUS. 


“Lovers of all kinds of sport will be charmed with these pages. The author 
tells the story of his various hunting experiences in such a genial, modest, pleasant 
manner that you are very sorry when the book comes toanend. You unconsciously 
catch the hunting fever, and feel like packing up rod and gun and starting away to 
the mountains. 

‘*For those whom stern fate confines to the boundaries of civilization—who lack 
the time necessary for interviewing the bear, the elk, and the antelope m their 
native homes, there is nothing better or more entertaining than a perusal of Mr. 
Shields’ book. 

“Tf you can not rustle in the Rockies, you can read ‘ Rustlings in the Rockies,’ 
which is the next best thing.’’—Belford’s Magazine. 


“Tt is one of the most thrillingly interesting works on field sports extant. There 
are many fine things in the book, but Mr. Shields’ description of the death of the 
ag elk is a masterpiece in its line, and stamps the author as a writer of rare narra- 


ive power.”—The American Field. 


““We have received a copy of Mr. Shields’ book, ‘Hunting in the Great West,” 
and confess to the reading of every word of it. We were sorry when we reached 
the last page, and hope this gifted writer will soon favor the world with other books 
on field sports.”"—The American Angler. 


‘An intensely interesting work. It should occupy a place in every sportsman’s 
library.”’— Outing. 

‘“* Hunting in the Great West’ must prove both interesting and instructive to 
every lover of field sports.”"— Chicago Times. 


“Tt will occupy a prominent place in the literature of the chase.”"—New York 
Herald. 


“A thoroughly readable and enjoyable work.’’—Chicago Tribune. 


“Tt is a captivating volume on out-door sports and adventures. One of the good 
points of the author is his devotion to the cause of protecting game and fish by 
igen laws. * * * * The volume is highly entertaining, and is full of incidental 
rersrenccane a For hunter and fisherman it constitutes a feast.’ — Cincinnati 

mmercial. 


The book will be mailed, postpaid, on receipt of price by 
RAND, McNALLY & CO., Publishers, 
CHICAGO. 


"W40A MON pue OSBd1YO ‘Sudysiiqnd “OO F ATIVNOW ‘GNVY 
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WVSYLS GNV HSYVW “GNV1dN NO DONILOOHS 


WILD FOWL SHOOTING 


WILLIAM BRUCE LEFFINGWELL. 


TREATS OF 


Guns, Decoys, Blinds, Boats, $7 Retrievers, 
FOR WILD FOWLING. 


This Book has never Received an Adverse Criticism. 
First Edition of 1,000 Copies sold in less than 30 Days. 


Endorsed by Every Prominent Sportsman and Sporting Paper in America. 


DR. N. ROWE, of American Field, the leading authority in America, says: 


Frank Forester has the reputation of having been the best writer on field sports we 
ever had, but he never wrote a work of such enduring merit as this. I consider it the best 
book on field sports ever written. 


Forest and Stream; Shooting and Fishing; Outing; Turf, Field, and Farm; 
Breeder and Sportsman; Sports Afield; Sporting Goods Gazette; Charles W. 
Budd; James R. Stice; H. MeMurchy, and hundreds of others, endorse it as the 
best work on the subject extant. 


Write for Descriptive Circular to 


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Price, $2.50 Cloth ; $3.50 Half Morocco, 


The Universal Base Ball Guide 


Being the most comprehensive collection of tnformation 
about the National Game ever before gaps pes 
between the covers of one book. 


It Contains Special Articles on the Leading Points of the Game 


FROM THE PENS OF 


A. G. Spalding, Frank H. Brunell, Chas. A. Comiskey, F. H. Carroll, N. Fred. 
Pfeffer, William E. (Buck) Ewing, Timothy J. Keefe, E N. Crane, Wm. 
A. Sunday, W. A Latham, Mark E. Baldwin, Ed. Hanlon, James 
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Also the full and complete schedules, players’ averages, etc., of the leading 
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By John C. Eckel and Frank Connelly, 


OF THE CHICAGO TIMES. % 


illest share commas idan ENDORSED. 


Bound in Handsome Paper Cover. Illustrated. Price, 50 Cents. 


Stories of the Base Ball Field 


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TOGETHER WITH THE ‘ 


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AN ENTERTAINING COLLECTION OF DRESSING-ROOM YARNS 
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RAND, MCNALLY & Co., PUBLISHERS, 
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ee Pe ROTO ee on dao bela odes nkcueeeccncsconats 
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