There
were eight in this band, and I had to take a roundabout course to
get in gunshot of them, but when I finally did get a shot at them
I killed an elk that carried the largest pair of horns I have ever
seen, with one exception. I unjointed his neck about a foot from
his head and dressed him, but left his hide on. The head and horns
were all I could lift as high as the horse's back.
When I rode up to camp and the negro cook saw that head of horns
he exclaimed: "Hello, Marstah; what you got dar? You must hab
killed de debbil dis time, suah."
From the negro I learned that the officers had all been out, and
had seen more or less deer and had done more or less shooting, but
had only killed one small doe.
That night the elk fever raged high in camp, as that pair of horns
had set them all wild to go elk hunting the next day. That night
we ordered an early breakfast, so as to get an early start to our
hunting ground.
After riding up the river the next morning, to where I had killed
the elk the day before, we all dismounted and tied our horses. I
asked them which they preferred, to go single or two together, and
they thought it the best plan to go in couples.
Being somewhat acquainted with this kind of game, and knowing
where to find them at this time of day, I told them what ridges to
take to lead them to the main divide, also what our signals would
be to come together.
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