The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1886-04-02
BUFFALO AND ANTELOPE.
Ranch Life and Game-shooting In the
West.

Mr.. Theodore Roosevelt thus writes in
Outing for March: To see the rapidity
with which the larger kind of game
animals are being cxterminated through
out the United States is really melan-
choly. Twenty-Five years ago, or even
fifteen years ago, the western plains and
mountains were in places fairly
thronged with deer, elk, antelope and
buffalo. Indeed, there was then no
other part of the world. save South
Africa where the number of individuals
of large game animals was so large.
All this has now been changed, or else
is being changed mt really remarka-
BILE speed The buffalo are already gone;
few Struggling individuals, and per-
haps here and there herd so small
that that it can hardly be called more
than squad, are all that remain. Over
four-fifths of their former range the
same fate has befallen the elk, and their
number, even among the mountainous
haunts, which still afford them refuge,
is greatly decreased. The shrinkage
among deer and antelope has been rel
atively nearly MS serious. There are
but few places left now where it is pro-
| lOI IL lllttll " ltkc w 40
professions; the brutal skin-hunters
and meat-butchers of the woods and
prairies have done their work, and
these buckskin-clad and greasy Nimrods
are now themselves sharing the fate OF
the game that has disappeared from be-
fore their rifles.
Still, however, there is plenty of sport
to be had by men who are of a more or
less adventurous turn OF mind and sutfi-
GENTLY hardy and resolute to be willing
to stand rough work and scant fare;
and of course, excepting men who go
out to spend some months in travelling
solely for purpose of sport, no class has
as much chance to get it as is the case
with the ranchmen, whose herds now
cover the great plains of the West, and
even range well up on the foothills of
the Rocky Mountains. All my own
hunting has been done simply in the
intervals of the numerous duties of
ranch life; and in order to understand
the way we set out on II trip after game
it is necessary also to understand a
little about the nature of our homes and
surroundings.
Many of the ranches are mere mud
novels or log shanties, stuck down in
any raw, treeless spot where there hap
pen to be water or grass; but many
others are really beautifully situated,
and though very rude in construction,
are still large enough and solid enough
to yield ample comfort to the inmates.
One such now in my mind, which is
placed in bend of the Heart river,
could not possibly be surpassed as re-
CARDS the romantic beauty of its sur
roundings. My own house stands on
bottom of the Little Missouri nearly two
miles in length, and perhaps half u
mile or over in width, from the brink of
the current to the line of steep and
Jagged buttes that rise sharply up to
bound it on the side farthest from the
river. Part of this bottom is open,
covered only with rank grass and
sprawling sage-brush; but there are
patches of dense woodland, where the
brittle cottonwood trees grow close to-
gether and stretch their heads high in
the air. The house itself made out of
hewn logs, is in large open glade
many miles in extent. 1t fronts the
river in its length of sixty feet, and
along the front runs a broad veranda,
where we sit in our rocking-chairs in
the Summer time when the days work
is done. Within it is divided into sew
eral rooms; one of these is where we
spend the Winter evenings at the time
when the cold has set in with q bitter
intensity hardly known in any part of
the United States. A huge fireplace
contains the great logs of cedar and
cottonwood; sinks of elk and deer
cover the floor, while wolf and fox furs
hang from the walls; antlcrs and horns
are thrust into the rafters to serve us
pegs on which to hang coats and caps.
In the glade. beside the house, there
are several other buildings stable, II
smithy and two or three sheds and out
houses, besides high, circular, horse
corral, with q snubbing post in the
center, and fer cod-n patch of garden
land. The river itself is usually shall
low, rapid stream that man can wade
across, but that can not carry the light
est boat; but when the snow mclts, or
after heavy rains, it is changed into
boiling, muddy torrent that can not be
crossed by man or beast, and that will
bear huge RATS. 1t is ut all times dam
gerous to cross on account of the qsick-
SanuS, Duu altcr u series OF lrcSnClS inc
whole river can be described as simply
four or five feet of turbulent water run
ming down over moving mass of
quicksand three feet in depth, that fills
the entire bed of the stream. In ordi-
nary floods there will remain certain
fords and rapids that can be crossed, but
at times any horse that dared to at
tempt passage, no matter where,
would be almost certainly lost.
| Back from the river for several miles
extends stretch of broken and intense
! ly rugged country, known in plains par
| lance us ''bad lands" II consists of
chains of steep buttcs or hills, often
| spreading out into table-lands and sepa-
rated by network of deep ravines and
winding valleys, which branch out in
every direction. When we pass these
| bad lands we come to the open prairie,
which stretches out on every side in
level or undulating eXpanse as far as
the eye can reach. In few of the gor-
| rac IN, fha hoI In lie q a,.o .,ro orrnyoS of