Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales

by Edgar Fritz Randolph

The following day I went out with the guide to try my luck. We had not traveled more than two miles before discovering a small herd of elk. We circled around them sufficiently to size them up, but could find no heads worth picking out. Our course was then changed, and we hunted toward a high mountain north of Mt. Leidy. From this point we obtained a fine view of the surrounding country, which I carefully swept with my Seitz glasses in quest of game. Far off on a distant ridge we finally saw some elk slowly moving out of the timber into the open. Their brown shapes showed very distinctly against the snow-covered hills, but, although there was a considerable number in view, no good antlers were visible. My strong glasses proved of very great service to me. With them I could ascertain plainly what otherwise I would have had to guess at, and they saved me many a long excursion over rough country to determine the value of a set of antlers. My guide was quite as anxious as myself that I should not have any trophies unworthy of a sportsman’s ambition. The law allows one only two heads, and it is necessary to take great pains to avoid making mistakes. I made up my mind that I would go back empty-handed rather than pack out antlers which would reflect discredit upon my skill. The guide was particularly anxious that I should obtain specimens which would do no injury to his reputation. I think I must have passed unfavorable judgment upon twenty-five or thirty heads—for which the guide was mainly responsible—before I finally secured my trophies. Any number of bulls presented themselves, some of them quite easy marks, only to be snubbed and turned down. Paris, in passing judgment upon the goddesses to determine which was the most beautiful, could not have been more critical or discriminating than the guide. I doubt if the unsuccessful rivals of the bulls I finally chose as worthy specimens were seriously disappointed.

To illustrate the ease with which I could have secured my legal allowance of two bulls, to say nothing of cows, I will cite a few instances of the opportunities I had. On one occasion I was going through the timber where I heard a number of elk. The guide called my attention to a bull lying on the ground not sixty yards away, partly concealed by the spruce brush. He was facing directly toward us, his front feet folded under his body and his nose close to the ground. We stood quite still and surveyed him carefully, sizing up the head, which had twelve points, but not large nor heavy at the base. The glasses were brought into service to make a more critical examination. A couple of minutes we stood discussing him, when finally he gave a brief snort, which sounded like an expression of disgust at our impertinence, and then jumped up and loped out of sight.

Shortly afterward we managed to approach close to a very large herd of elk, mostly hidden in the timber. From our concealment we could see a number of the animals not over thirty or forty yards away. About 150 yards off were a couple of young bulls exercising their skill by fencing with their antlers, evidently in sport. We could hear the frequent clash of the horns and often got a good view of the contestants. We waited in this spot over an hour, until despairing of seeing anything worth shooting at before it grew too dark, we suddenly rose up in plain view. The peaceful scene was soon converted into one of great confusion. For a moment the elk stared at us with their beautiful large brown eyes in astonishment, then a general panic communicated itself to the herd, and every animal in sight began moving off. Each clump of vegetation that could conceal a form seemed suddenly animated by a creature breaking from its hiding place, fleeing for safety; the cows and calves gave vent to their peculiar bleat of alarm, while the bulls snorted and rattled their antlers against the trees in their haste. For some hundred yards in the timber, and well up on the mountain side, the scene became particularly animated. I hurried to an opening in the timber, where I could get a good view of the retreating herd, which had drawn together into quite a solid moving mass. The number of elk greatly exceeded my expectations. Nine-tenths of the herd had been as carefully concealed from us as we had been from them. There must have been at a conservative estimate not less than 400 in the herd, and possibly 500. A sportsman could only admire this striking and beautiful spectacle because there was no head worth securing. A tooth hunter or a butcher, with a high-power repeating rifle, could have repeated one of those scenes which sickens every lover of sport.

At another time I came upon a band of elk quite as numerous, and, although there were a couple of good heads in view, yet the number of cow elk was so great that it was practically impossible to get a good shot. The entire mass fled straight up the side of a steep mountain covered with quaking aspen and spruce. For some time we could see them crowding one another in dense masses in their ascent, but the only shot attempted was with the camera, and without success.

One more instance, which will not only aid in proving the ease of securing an indifferent specimen, but goes to show that when game is too plentiful it is an actual handicap to the sportsman. I saw a fine head across a gulch at a considerable distance. I fired and missed it and the animal escaped beyond range. I crossed the gulch to examine the spot where the bull had stood and followed his tracks to see if he had been wounded, and if so, how badly. Although the ground was covered with two feet of snow, yet I could discover no signs of blood. While discussing the matter with the guide we became conscious that we were not unperceived, for a great number of elk began to move among the trees, having evidently “spotted” us. We made at once for concealment and ran as fast as we could through the deep snow to an open place toward which the herd was heading.

Carefully hidden from view we saw a great brown mass thunder past, and before it had disappeared from sight I caught a glimpse of the precious set of antlers belonging to the bull I shot at carried in triumph out of sight. They appeared but for a moment in the narrow opening, in which the intended victim was well protected by cows, which formed a perfect wall of flesh which no bullet could pierce and speed on to its mark. We made another run under concealment in the hope of being able to come upon the herd again in case it should halt, which it did. In an open space on the further side of the mountain we confronted the elk at close quarters. The rapid traveling in the deep snow over rough country left me very much exhausted. The first object that attracted the attention of the guide and myself was a large bull of twelve points at very close range. I thought in the hurry of the moment, my vision perhaps being blurred by nervous strain and exhaustion, that it was the same magnificent specimen I had shot at before and was trying to secure, and the animal’s position—turned quartering toward me—aided the deception. I soon discovered the mistake, however, my attention being called by the guide to another bull which proved to be the one I so earnestly desired. I brought my rifle in position to draw a bead on a vital spot, but the bull was immediately blanketed by several cows running between. If I could have had a clear range the shot would have been about the easiest I ever had, but the faithful cows with their calves swarmed around their lord, and I beheld with disappointment as fine a pair of antlers as I ever saw borne safely out of sight. The old bull must have evidently believed that “there is safety in numbers.”

There is another disadvantage in encountering a great quantity of game when attempting to secure a good trophy. Each animal, however poor a head it may possess, has generally a good pair of eyes, a keen scent and excellent hearing. Each addition to a herd is another sentinel, always on duty and ready at any moment to sound the alarm. On a previous hunting trip, when the elk were not nearly so plentiful, I got the heads I wanted in less time. I cannot place the blame for the trouble I had in securing my heads on the cows entirely.

A couple of days before the scarlet letter day of my hunt I fired at a fine bull in a gulch quite a distance off. He immediately quickened his pace and was soon out of range. I glanced at my rifle and I found that the elevation of the sight had been misplaced, being ranged for fifty yards. I think it is best to have the sight of a high power gun with a very flat trajectory sighted for 100 yards, and to draw a fine or coarse sight on the object as occasion may require. We examined the spot where the bull had been seen when fired at and discovered a sprinkling of blood along his tracks. Tying the horses, we started to follow the trail on foot. The course the bull took favored the higher elevations more than the depressions, which was a bad sign, so with grave misgivings we continued the pursuit. The increasing signs of blood inspired us with hope; here and there he occasionally stood, as was evident from the quantity of blood and the character of the impression his feet made in the snow. In other respects the signs were disappointing; the tracks showed no indication of weakness, and frequently led us across high fallen trees and along steep places, where I followed with difficulty. The blood, although quite plentiful, was a light red, and not the dark color which would be discharged were some vital spot injured. Finally, after traveling about six miles, the flow of blood began to lessen. At length we reached a point where he entered a tract of thick timber, evidently at a walk. We concluded that it was best not to pursue him in this retreat, because his slow pace might indicate exhaustion and a disposition to lie down. The only hope I had of securing him would be in case of his lying down and becoming stiff from his wound and not being able to get up. We concluded to allow plenty of time for this to happen. The guide made a circuit around the timber and could discover no trace of his having emerged from it. We then went back to the horses and rode to camp. The succeeding day we returned to the spot, traced the steps of the elk to a place where he had lain down, and saw a slight discoloration of the snow where his brisket had touched it, his tracks led onward, and signs of bleeding had ceased. All our trouble had been in vain because of an improperly arranged sight.

CHAS. HERDICK SKINNING A BULL ELK. THE AUTHOR AT THE RIGHT.