Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales

by Edgar Fritz Randolph

By this time I had been about ten days in camp and was growing quite accustomed to the life. Although the weather was quite cold, at times going to eight or ten below zero at night, yet it often grew warm enough during the day to thaw, but it was dry, light atmosphere and always bracing. Every night for a brief interval we were treated to a serenade from the coyotes, a ridiculous, wild and unearthly chant, which became a positive nuisance when the dogs undertook an accompaniment right at our ears. Occasionally a bull elk, feeding during the full of the moon, would cause the cold atmosphere to vibrate with his shrill whistle as he loped past the camp. In all other respects we were entirely alone for the twenty-two days I stayed in camp except one, when the game warden dropped in to look at my license, and after a brief stay took his departure. How different this was from most of the hunting in the East, where the number of sportsmen has become so great as to render the pastime almost as dangerous for the hunter as it is for game. Particularly is this the case when “green sportsmen” persist in shooting at anything that moves without first finding out what it is. My guide expressed his surprise at the number of accidents which occur every year in the Adirondacks through gross carelessness. He remarked that he believed it would be best if one were hunting in the Adirondacks and saw anything moving in the brush to shoot without waiting to find out what it was, because the chances are that it would be a man, and if you did not shoot him he would shoot you. I was rather amused at this piece of grim humor, which is a sample of what he generally had on tap.

The sun dawned auspiciously upon what proved to be my luckiest day in camp. For some days I had hunted diligently without securing the heads that would satisfy me. We had not journeyed over three miles from camp before we saw, at quite a distance, a large bull move into a thickly wooded valley. We turned our course in that direction, keeping out of view as much as possible, riding along a hill which overlooked the valley into which the bull had taken refuge. We came to an open and slightly undulating country, which was covered with about eighteen inches of snow, and gave evidence that quite a number of elk had recently passed that way, and about 500 yards off saw a herd with several good heads. The country was quite open, but broken up with thick clumps of spruce trees here and there. To get nearer the herd it was necessary to cross a wide open space, but by a timely maneuver of the guide we traveled under cover until we reached a point where a thick clump of trees standing out in the open space obstructed the view between us and the elk. We then rode out in the open toward the clump of trees which concealed us from view. Having gained this point, which was about 175 to 200 yards from the herd, I dismounted and stepped out in the clearing. The cows again provokingly ran between me and the largest bull, which I had marked as my own. Fortunately, the cows ran ahead and I got a quartering view of the large bull. The bright reflection of the sun on the snow made it somewhat difficult to fully distinguish the body of the animal in the dense moving mass, but I succeeded in locating it. Drawing a fine sight on my Mauser I fired. The entire herd disappeared over the crest of the hill. The guide, who by this time had mounted his horse, cried, “You have got a bull.” I asked him if it was the “big one.” He replied, “I don’t know.” In the confused and changing mass it was indeed difficult to keep track of any particular one. We urged the horses to their utmost speed; the antlers of the bull continued growing larger to the view as we drew near. Finally, with an exclamation of satisfaction, the guide slipped off his horse and congratulated me upon the kill. “The largest head in the bunch.” It was indeed a fine bull, with a spread just short of four feet. There were twelve points on the antlers, six tines on each side. The bullet had lodged a little back of the shoulder and the animal had dropped without a struggle. In the space of fifteen or twenty minutes the carcass was dressed; the mantle had been stripped off, and we were ready to return for a couple of pack horses to bring in the antlers and meat.

We had hardly mounted the horses when we saw another bull with a fine head about 250 yards away. I slid off my horse, and getting the distance from the guide, I drew a coarse sight and fired as the animal was going over a hill. We hurried over to the spot where the bull had been and saw faint splotches of blood on the snow. As we descended the hill the guide remarked he hoped we would not have as long a chase after this one as we did after the bull we hunted so long a few days previous. I replied that I was certain we would not. “How do you know?” he asked. For answer I pointed to a lifeless form just beyond lying among some spruce trees. As the guide stepped alongside of me, where he could get a view, he expressed his surprise at the luck I had had in getting two such fine heads in so short an interval. It was barely half an hour since I had secured my first trophy, and now I had a second one which we both regarded as better than the first. The ball had struck back of the shoulder a little above the middle of the body. The spread of this head was a trifle larger than the first one I had shot; the antlers were more solid, especially at the base. My hard hunting had been rewarded. I had obtained inside of half an hour two heads as handsome and large as any that it had ever been my good fortune to secure. I felt like a school boy about to take a vacation, for I had hunted faithfully for about eleven days and I promised myself a rest when I had won out with the bulls.

For several days I took it easy; a large part of the time I sat in a comfortable chair in camp and read novels and played cards. I also managed to work up quite a small medical practice, my victims being Sheffield, Charles Herdick and Marcus Imo, the cock and horse wrangler. The remedies which some people of the far West prescribe for their ailments are quite original and simple. One day when I was starting out on horseback to hunt in company with Herdick, I noticed that he had not saddled his horse. I asked him the reason. He replied that he was not feeling well and wanted exercise. Anyone familiar with hunting in Jackson’s Hole knows how often one has to leave the horse to travel on foot over rough country through snow and up slippery ascents for hundreds of feet.

Herdick evidently thought this was not enough exercise to keep him in condition. Another time Imo had contracted a severe cold which I wanted to prescribe for. He replied that it had come on without anything and it would go off without anything. After some persuasion he consented to take a good dose of quinine and a hot drink before retiring. The next morning the cold had about disappeared, but when Imo went out to round up the horses he had great difficulty in hearing the bell on account of the quinine buzzing in his ear, which confirmed his bad opinion of medicine.

After I had tired of loafing I hunted with the dogs, tracking cougars, bobcats and lynx. Occasionally I would take a shot at a coyote to pay it back for some of the unearthly serenades we had been treated to at night. One day, while following the track of a lynx, Herdick came across a No. 5 bear trap. He discovered it by noticing some fresh elk meat near it. The trap was carefully concealed, and had he been an inexperienced hunter or perhaps walking along there at night he might have made discovery by stepping in it. It is against the law to bait a trap with elk meat, and it should be forbidden to set traps around indiscriminately where sportsmen are licensed to hunt; the permission implying reasonable safety, which is not the case when dangerous traps are set without proper safeguards. We sprung the trap and went on. Some men, who are acquainted with the danger arising from this source, always carry a monkey-wrench when hunting or trapping. A steel trap which could hold a silver-tip would inflict a terrible injury upon anyone who was unfortunate enough to become entrapped, even if assistance were promptly rendered, and assistance being remote, might cause a painful, lingering death. I knew of a case where a trapper had set two No. 5 bear traps, and upon his return found a large silver-tip in one of them. Venturing rather close to the bear the enraged animal made a sudden lunge at him, which the man evaded by stepping back hurriedly. In doing so he accidentally fell and sprung the other trap with his knee and was caught in that position. The man was unable to get to his rifle to dispatch the bear, which was making efforts to reach him. Being in uncomfortably close quarters to the bear, and apprehensive of his safety, the trapper devised a clever plan to dispose of his disagreeable neighbor. Fastening his knife to the end of a long pole he repeatedly stabbed the bear until death ensued. His companion, going to examine the traps, at last found him almost dead with pain and released him.

GROS VENTRE RIVER.

The end of my outing at length drew near, and it became necessary to make arrangements to break camp. I had become quite attached to the beautiful spot where I had spent such a pleasant time and had so much luck. Although I had not bagged all the game the law allowed me, yet I felt that I had obtained exceptionally good heads and was satisfied. I had also collected a considerable number of photographs, of which Sheffield took the greatest number; in fact, he proved quite an expert in this line. The horses seemed no more anxious to leave than we were, and occasionally proved refractory and commenced to buck until something was bound over their eyes. The first night of the journey homeward we camped on the banks of the Gros Ventre. We put up no tents, but slept out in the open, because, as I said to the guide, I wanted to see how it felt to rough it.

During the day we had descended into a country where the elevation was considerably lower. The snow, which we had seen continuously in our former camp, had all disappeared and the temperature was much warmer. Early the next day we reached Jackson, where we put up at Nelson’s Hotel and were very hospitably entertained. Although remote from the regular line of travel and the railroad, the people in this locality live remarkably well and in comfort, and on reaching this point I felt I was in touch with the rest of the world. Although it is 100 miles from the railroad, yet it is connected with St. Anthony by telephone. A musical entertainment was arranged here for our benefit by the hospitable inhabitants of the place, which proved very enjoyable.