Good Hunting

Part 1

Good Hunting

GOOD HUNTING In Pursuit of Big Game in the West

BY THEODORE ROOSEVELT

Illustrated

“Good hunting all That keep the Jungle law.” RUDYARD KIPLING.

New York and London Harper & Brothers Publishers 1907

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Copyright, 1896, 1897, 1907, by HARPER & BROTHERS.

All rights reserved. Published February, 1907.

Publisher’s Note

This book offers to younger readers a series of pictures of out-door life and big-game hunting in the West. More than this, the author makes us feel not only the zest of sport and adventure, but also the interest attaching to the habits and peculiarities of the remarkable animals which he describes. It is a field-book, since it is written by a true sportsman out of his own experiences, and its general spirit tends to a better appreciation of the value of close observation of animal life. The elk, bear, goats, deer, and other animals which are described, represent the most remarkable large fauna of our country. These descriptions, by one whose acquaintance with them has been so intimate, have an added value in view of the diminution in their number.

It is interesting, also, to remember that the influence of the author has been constantly exerted in favor of the preservation of big game and the maintenance of national parks and forest reserves, which, in addition to other advantages, include the protection of these noble forms of animal life.

This series of articles upon big-game hunting was written for Harper’s Round Table, and published therein in 1897. The picture of ranch life which forms the closing chapter appeared in Harper’s Round Table in 1896. These articles are now presented together in book form for the first time after consultation with the author. For the title of the book and the proof-reading the publishers are responsible.

Contents

CHAP. PAGE I. THE WAPITI, OR ROUND-HORNED ELK 13

II. A CATTLE-KILLING BEAR 27

III. A CHRISTMAS BUCK 41

IV. THE TIMBER-WOLF 53

V. SHOOTING THE PRONG-BUCK 67

VI. A TAME WHITE GOAT 81

VII. RANCHING 95

Illustrations

A WOUNDED BULL ELK Frontispiece

SIX-POINT ELK-ANTLERS Facing p. 18

FOLLOWING AN ELK-TRAIL IN WINTER „ 20

GREAT WAS THE BULL’S ASTONISHMENT „ 22

THE GRIZZLY AND A VICTIM „ 32

“THE SHAGGY BEAST WAS FOUND LYING DEAD WITHIN A DOZEN „ YARDS OF HIS LAST VICTIM” 36

Part 2

“‘I DROPPED ON ONE KNEE AND FIRED’” „ 46

CANADIAN WOLVES AT AN INDIAN GRAVE „ 54

DOGS IN PURSUIT OF AN OLD WOLF „ 60

STALKING BIG GAME „ 68

“‘I LEAPED OFF, AND HELD WELL AHEAD OF THE REARMOST AND „ LARGEST BUCK’” 74

A WOUNDED ANTELOPE „ 76

FINALLY THE GOAT GOT USED TO THE MOTION OF THE CANOE „ 90

COW-BOY AMUSEMENTS „ 96

TAILING A BULL „ 100

“THERE IS A GREAT DEAL OF EXCITING GALLOPING” „ 102

The Wapiti, or Round-horned Elk

I THE WAPITI, OR ROUND-HORNED ELK

No country of the temperate zone can begin to compare with South Asia, and, above all, tropical and subtropical Africa, in the number and size of those great beasts of the chase which are known to hunters as big game; but after the Indian and African hunting-grounds, the best are still those of North America. Until a few years before 1897 there were large regions, even in the United States, where the teeming myriads of wild game, though of far fewer and less varied species, almost equalled the multitudes found in South Africa, and much surpassed those found anywhere else in point of numbers, though inferior in variety to those of India.

This, however, is now a thing of the past. The bison, which was the most characteristic animal of the American fauna, has been practically exterminated. There remained in 1897, however, a fair abundance of all other kinds of game. Perhaps, on the whole, the one affording most sport from the stand-point of the hardy and skilful hunter is the big-horn, though in size and in magnificence of horn it is surpassed by some of the wild sheep of Asia.

There is a spice of danger in the pursuit of the grizzly-bear—the largest of all the land bears—especially in Alaska, where it is even larger than its Kamtchatkan brother. The moose and the wapiti—ordinarily called the elk—are closely related to the Old-World representatives of their kind; but the moose is a little larger and the wapiti very much larger than any of their European or Asiatic kinsfolk. In particular, the elk, or wapiti, is the stateliest of all deer, and the most beautiful of American game beasts.

It is a pity we cannot always call the wapiti by its right name, but the hunters and settlers never know him as anything but the elk, and I fear it would be pedantry to try to establish his rightful title. In former days the elk ranged to tide-water on the Atlantic coast. A few lingered in Pennsylvania until 1869, and throughout the middle of the century they were abundant on the great plains. In 1888 I shot one on the Little Missouri, however. In many parts of the Rocky Mountains and of the Coast Range the species is still as abundant as ever, and this is especially true of northwestern Wyoming, since that great animal-preserve the Yellowstone Park swarms with elk, and is their natural nursery and breeding-ground.

The elk is the lordliest of his kind throughout the world. The Scotch stag is a pygmy but a fourth his size. The stags of eastern Europe are larger than those of Scotland, and in Asia larger still, approaching in size a small wapiti. They are all substantially alike except in size.

The wapiti is rather easier to kill than the deer, because his size makes it easier to see him; and he is slower in his movements, so that he is easier to hit. When pressed he can gallop very hard for a few hundred yards, but soon becomes tired. The trot is his natural gait, and this he can keep up for hours at a time, going at a pace which makes it necessary for a horse to gallop smartly to overtake him, and clearing great logs in his stride, while he dodges among the thick timber in a really marvellous way, when one comes to think of the difficulty he must have in handling his great antlers.

Late in September the rut begins, and then the elk gather in huge bands, while the great bulls fight vicious battles for leadership. Hunters call this the whistling-time, because throughout its continuance the bulls are very noisy, continually challenging one another. Their note is really not much like a whistle. It consists of two or three bars, rising and then falling, ending with a succession of grunts; the tone of voice varies greatly in different individuals; but when heard at a little distance in the heart of the great wooded wilderness the sound is very musical, and to me—and, I suppose, to most hunters—it is one of the most attractive sounds in all nature.

At this season the big bulls are quite easy to approach by any man at all skilled in still-hunting, for their incessant challenging betrays their whereabouts, and they are so angry and excited as to be less watchful than usual. Some of my most pleasurable memories of hunting are connected with stalking some great bull elk in frosty weather, when the woods rang with his challenges.

One evening in early October I was camped high among the mountains of western Montana. We were travelling with a pack-train, and had pitched our small tent among some firs by a brook, while the horses grazed in the little park or meadow close by. Elk were plentiful round about. We had seen their trails everywhere, and late in the afternoon we had caught a glimpse of a band of cows as they disappeared among the pines.

Towards morning I was awakened by hearing a bull challenge not very far from camp. The sound of the challenge kept coming nearer and nearer, and finally I heard one of the horses snort loudly in response; evidently the elk saw them, and, not making out exactly what they were, was coming down to join them. Sometimes horses will stampede when thus approached; but our ponies were veterans, and were very tired, and evidently had no intention of leaving their good pasture.

Sitting up in my blankets, I could tell from the sound that they were still in the park, and then the challenge of the bull came pealing up not three hundred yards from the tent. This was more than I could stand, and I jumped up and put on my shoes and jacket. The moon was bright, but shooting by moonlight is very deceptive, and I doubt whether I would have hit him even had I got down to the park in time. However, he had moved on before I got down, and I heard his challenge in the woods beyond.

Looking at my watch, I saw that it was nearly dawn. I returned to the tent and laid down as I was under the blankets, and shivered and dozed for half an hour, then I came back to the meadow, where the pack-ponies stood motionless. In the brightening light the moon paled, and I was very soon able to pick out the bull’s trail on the frost-covered ground, where it was almost as plain as if he had been walking in snow. I saw that he had struck up a long valley, from which a pass led into a wooded basin. At the top of the pass I lost the trail entirely, and as it was almost impossible to see for any distance through the woods, I came to the conclusion that the best thing to do was to sit down and await events.

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