The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-01-28
AN ELK HUNT IN IDAHO.
BY RoXEY NEWTON.

When the first November snow had clothed the narrow Salmon river val lev and the rugged mountains in q downy shroud my work was ended for the season. It was holiday for the mining camp. It was the signal for a shutdown, which means a spree for the average miner. My heart bounded with joy, too. Not that expected to get drunk but the report had reached me every day for two weeks that large herds of elk and deer were low down on the mountain in the open timber. My rifle was bright as new silver dollar. had cleaned and oiled it ten times since I had fired it, just because I enjoyed the work by lamp light. I was busy daytimes.
 There was young English gentle man in the camp who had been tied down to business for the same weary months. His responsibility was great, but when night came he sought my lodgings, and it was reaction for us all to see the spirit with which he en- tered into the hunting we did by the fireside. He had new Winchester which had never frightened wild animal by it's report, but he dreamed of many trophies which he should bring down with it and forward to his noble father when the season of rest from business and of sport should arrive. He sought me at night when snow began to whiten the ground, and insisted that we go fifteen miles up the mountain to Fish Lake, and that we invite no one to accompany us. So on the first day of snow we were off. We employed packer with pony to take our outfit to the place designated. The stage road passed within three miles of the lake, and we could, of course, walk that distance. Besides, the hunting was good on the timbered mountain between the road and the camp ground we had selected. We paid the stage fare to Granite Ridge, and after a two hours run in four horse sleigh were put down in the silent, trackiess forest. We knew that Fish Lake and our bed and board were over the mountain southward. We could see the frowning barrier through the breaks in the trees. It was high and gloomy, but we had six hours of daylight. We started, tramp, tramp. The snow was foot deep where we left the stage road. On we ascended; it grew sleeper. But we came to the fresh trail of a herd of elk. Then we had beaten path. The elks were evidently aiming to cross the mountain toward the lake, but were hunting around to avoid increasing depth of snow and to find pass that was less abrupt.
 We followed them for a mile or more, when we came to very deep canyon which seemed to almost cut the mountain in two, but in reality was a sort of pocket. We discovered that the walls grew sleeper and fenced in the little cove. Our game was iu g trap. They could only escape by coming back as they went in, or by crossing the rocky washout along the width of the valley and returning or the opposite slope between us and the rock wall.
 While we were discussing a plan ot attack we caught sight of the moving mass of brown against the snow They were feeding slowly about 1T the shelter of the towering piles o1 serrated basalt. They were browsing the slender red willows that grew il clumps in the moist ground at the head of the ravine.
 My young friend, of hot, aristo. cratic blood, became restless. The scene was not a new one to me, SO advised caution and finally succeeded in securing his consent to what seemed to be the most rational course tt adopt. But the young Britisher wal like the proverbial. war horse. H. must rush to the battle. desired that he should walk across the narrow strip of woods to the open ground and wait in ambush for his quarry. But no, he must go forward and shoot down this noble antlered elk in oper field. And he went, nor did he wal on the order. A quarter of an houl later the report of his gun echoed down the canyon. The thump o heavy feet and the snapping of brusf was soon heard all over the narrow valley. was not "out of the woods, but I saw a grand buck going at 1 trot that was equal to J. l. C's besl gait, and I fired, fired, fired, but thu buck still trotted on with stride never saw equaled before. His fee,