On May 7, 1894, President Cleveland approved an Act "to protect the
birds and animals in Yellowstone National Park, and to punish crimes in
said Park, and for other purposes."
This law, as finally enacted, owed much to the efforts and labor of
members of the Boone and Crockett Club, who for many years had
persistently struggled to induce Congress to pass such necessary
legislation. The final triumph is a matter of congratulation to every
sportsman interested in the protection of game, and fulfills one of the
great objects sought to be attained by the foundation of the Club. While
the statute, in many of its details, could readily be improved, it is
still, in its general features, sufficient to serve the purposes of its
enactment. To those not conversant with the subject, the statement may
seem astonishing, that from the establishment of the Park in 1872 to the
passage of the Act in 1894 no law protecting either the Park, the
animals or the visitors was operative within the Yellowstone Park--a
region containing about 3,500 square miles, and larger than the States
of Delaware and Rhode Island. This condition of affairs was frequently
brought to the notice of the National Legislature, and in 1887 their
attention was called to it by a startling episode. A member of Congress,
Mr. Lacey, of Iowa, was a passenger in a stage which was "held up" in
the Park and robbed. The highwaymen were afterward apprehended, but
escaped the punishment suited to their crime because of the great doubt
existing as to whether any law was applicable. As to game offenses,
regulations were powerless for prevention in the absence of any
penalties by law to enforce them.
The explanation of this anomalous situation is to be sought in the
circumstances under which the Park had been set apart. The eminent
scientists, who interested themselves in this important object, were
surrounded with difficulties. The vastness of the tract proposed to be
included, the question of expense, the selfish interests opposing the
measure, were obstacles not easy to overcome. Congress was told, "Give
us the Park; nothing more is needed than to reserve the land from public
sale or settlement." Doubtless the remoteness and isolation of the
region might have been thought, at the time, sufficient to insure
protection. But it was the wonderful scenery and extraordinary objects
of interest in the Park which were then thought of; the forests and the
game did not enter much into the consideration of the founders. And so
Congress passed the Act of 1872, merely defining the limits of the Park
and committing it to the keeping of the Department of the Interior,
which was empowered to make rules and regulations for its control.
A great work was accomplished when Congress was persuaded to forever
dedicate this marvelous region as a National Park, for the benefit of
the entire country; and it was hoped and expected that Congress would,
in time, supplement the organizing Act by the needful additional
legislation. But this was not to be had for many years to come. For
some time after the year 1872, the reservation was occasionally visited
by a few adventurous spirits or Government parties on exploring
expeditions. During that period it became the refuge of the large game
which had gradually receded from the lower country before the advance of
settlement and railroads. The abundance of game astonished all who
beheld it. Bears, deer, elk, sheep, moose, antelope, buffalo, wolverines
and many other kinds of wild beasts were collected within an area which
afforded peculiar advantages to each and all. Nowhere else could such a
gathering of game be found in one locality. It should be remembered that
those who visited the Park in the early days we have mentioned confined
their investigations to a limited portion of it. The great winter ranges
and breeding grounds were almost unknown. During this period, game
killing was so slight and the supply so great that restrictions, by
those exercising a very uncertain authority in the reservation, were
hardly pretended to be enforced.
But from about the year 1878 the depredations on the game of the Park
attained alarming proportions. The number of visitors had largely
increased. The skin hunter and the record hunter--twin brothers in
iniquity--appeared on the scene, and their number grew from year to
year. It was then that regulations and prohibitions were promulgated
from the Department of the Interior, but they were known to contain only
vain threats, which could be defied with impunity. And so the slaughter
continued, and likewise other depredations. Learned associations,
sportsmen's associations, visitors of all lands, showered petitions upon
Congress to pass some protective law. All that Congress did, however,
was in 1883 to confer authority for the use of troops in the Park. This
was something, and the effect of their presence was very beneficial, and
insured the only protection the Park had until the present time.
Congress seemed affected with an apathy which no appeals could change.
The result was non-action.
Some Congressmen thought they were justified in declining to take any
interest in the matter, because few, if any, of their constituents had
ever visited the Park. Others thought that it should be a Wyoming or
Montana affair, and should be turned over to one or the other of those
then territories. A few seemed to labor under the impression that the
Park was nothing but a private pleasure ground, resorted to by the
wealthy class, and that it was no part of the Constitutional functions
of a Republican Government to afford security to wild animals, or to
incur any expense therefor. These narrow views were not shared by most
of the principal men in Congress; among these we had many staunch
friends, including especially several who held seats in the Senate.
Chief among them was Senator Vest, of Missouri, who at all times was
found ready to do everything in his power to promote the welfare of the
Park. Senator Manderson, of Nebraska, and many others were quite as
willing. It was largely due to the gentlemen we have named that the
Senate, as a body, was imbued with their views, and on all occasions
recognized the important national objects to be attained by the Park,
not only as a great game preserve, but also as a great forest
reservation of the highest economic importance.
With the assistance of some of the present members of the Boone and
Crockett Club, a bill was framed which afforded in its provisions ample
protection to the Park, while it added largely to its area on the south
and on the east, embracing the great breeding grounds of the elk. This
bill was introduced by Senator Vest. But new difficulties now arose,
more serious than any hitherto encountered. By the completion of the
Northern Pacific Railroad a large influx of travel set in toward the
Park. It was now thought money was to be made there. Railroads through
it were talked about. Mines, situated near its northern border, were
said to contain untold wealth, needing only a railroad for their
development. A mining camp, called Cooke City, was started, and it was
urged that a railroad could reach it only by going through the Park.
Corporate influences made themselves felt. The bill introduced by
Senator Vest again and again, in session after session, passed the
Senate. The promoters of a railroad through the Park thought they saw
their opportunity. Afraid to launch their scheme of spoliation before
Congress as an independent measure, they sought to attach it as a rider
to the Park bill. They reasoned that those who desired the passage of
that bill regarded it as so important that they would be willing to
consent to its carrying a railroad rather than see all legislation on
the subject dropped or defeated. The plan was well conceived, but failed
of execution. The friends of the bill recognized that it was wiser to
leave the Park unprotected than to consent to what would be its
destruction. They recognized that, once railroads were allowed within
the Park, it would be a reservation only in name, and that before long
the forests and the game would both disappear. They therefore refused
the bait held out to them by the railroad promoters, who thereafter
always blocked the passage of the Park bill. In return they were always
defeated in their own scheme. The House Committee having the protection
bill in charge never failed to burden it with the railroad right of way
whenever it came to them, blandly ignoring the evident fact that a
railroad was not an appropriate nor a relevant feature to a law for the
protection of the Park. And so it happened that the bill which had been
the child of affection became an object of dread, and was denounced as
bitterly as it had before been advocated by its original friends. It was
thought better to have it die on the calendar than to take the risk of
its adoption by the House of Representatives with the obnoxious
amendment incorporated by the committee.
Apart from that amendment, it was feared the bill would not only
encounter an opposition instigated by pecuniary interests, but might
itself fail to call to its support any counteracting influence. Those
who opposed the railroad, and notably the members of the Boone and
Crockett Club, who invariably appeared before the Public Lands Committee
to argue against it, were at the very least stigmatized as
"sentimentalists," who impeded material progress--as busybodies, who,
needing nothing themselves, interfered to prevent other people from
obtaining what was necessary and beneficial to commerce. With practical
legislators such animadversions are frequently not lacking in force, for
nothing more incurs their contempt than a measure which has not what
they call a _practical object_, by which they mean a _moneyed object_.
While throughout the country there was considerable general interest
taken in the preservation of the Park, such influence was not
sufficiently concentrated to make itself felt by Congress. The Park was
everybody's affair, and in the House of Representatives no one could be
found to take any special interest in it. And so the fight went on from
year to year. In Congress after Congress the bill was passed in the
Senate, and emerged from the House Committee on Public Lands weighted
down by the burden of the railroad. Secretary after Secretary of the
Interior protested against this feature of the bill, and so did every
officer of the Government who had any part in the administration or
exploration of the Park. But their protests were without effect on the
committee, which in those days seemed to regard the railroad as the most
important feature of the bill.
It was clearly shown that the railroad would not only be most harmful to
the Park, but could serve no useful purpose; for it was quite possible
for a railroad to reach the mines without touching the Park, whereas the
projected route cut through the Park for a distance of some fifty miles.
The public press throughout the country was almost unanimous in
denouncing the threatened invasion of the reservation. But the railroad
in interest had a strong lobby at work, and many of the inhabitants in
the territories and States nearest the Park showed the most selfish
indifference to its preservation, and a greedy desire to plunder it. The
railroad lobbyists were very active. They saw the necessity of trying to
avoid openly outraging public opinion. Accordingly they changed the
bill, so that, instead of conferring a right of way through the Park, it
segregated and threw out of the reservation that portion through which
the railroad was to go. This was supposed to be a concession to public
sentiment; but it must have been thought that the public were very
easily deceived, for there was really no concession at all, save to the
railroad interests. Instead of a _right of way_ through a portion of the
Park, they now asked, and were offered by the committee, the land
itself. The Committee of the House proposed that this land should be
thrown out of the Park, and any and all railroads be allowed to scramble
for it. The area thus doomed is situated north of the Yellowstone River,
and constitutes one of the most attractive portions of the Park. It
includes the only great winter range of the elk. In the winter there can
be seen there some 5,000 animals, and no one who has traveled over this
region in summer has failed to observe the enormous number of shed
horns, showing how extensively the range is resorted to by this noble
animal. Here too can be found a large band of antelope at all times,
numbering about 500, and a smaller, but considerable, band of mountain
sheep.
The friends of the Park succeeded in stopping the proposed railroad
legislation, but they could accomplish nothing else in Congress. They
had more success with another branch of the Government. There was a
statute authorizing the President to set apart any part of the public
domain as a forest reservation. Taking advantage of this, certain
members of the Boone and Crockett Club saw an opportunity of
substantially obtaining the enlargement of the Park which they had been
vainly endeavoring to obtain from Congress. They laid the matter before
General Noble, then Secretary of the Interior. He recommended to
President Harrison that the tract in question should be constituted a
forest reserve. This was done. In 1891 the President issued a
proclamation, establishing the Yellowstone Park Forest Reserve. It
embraced some 1,800 square miles, abutting on the east and south
boundaries of the Park. The Secretary afterward had the same regulations
extended to the Reserve as had been put in operation in the Park. This
important action was followed by further proclamations, instituting
other forest reservations in different sections of the country. The
Executive and its representative, the Department of the Interior, have
at all times been most sympathetic and helpful in the movement for
forest and game preservation. They have sternly resisted all assaults
upon the Park.
The organization of the Boone and Crockett Club had been a great step
toward Park protection. Its membership included those who had shown most
interest in obtaining legislation. One of the main objects of the
society was the preservation of the game and the forests. It brought
together a body of men whose motives were entirely disinterested, and
who were able to make their influence felt. To their efforts must be
largely attributed the success which was ultimately attained. But that
success might have been indefinitely deferred had not Congress been
awakened to its duty by an event as shocking as it was unlooked for.
For years one of the cherished objects of the Park had been the
preservation of perhaps the only surviving band of buffalo. It had
sought refuge in the mountains. It was known to be on the increase and
it was supposed that it would remain unmolested. Its number had been
estimated as high as 500. Its habitat was a wild and rugged country,
affording a seemingly secure asylum. For a long time these buffalo
remained comparatively safe. In the summer it would have been of no use
to slaughter them for their heads and hides. In the winter the snow was
so deep and their haunts so remote as to render it well nigh impossible
to pack heads or hides out to a market. But a desperate man was found to
take desperate chances. The trouble came to the Park from the mining
camp of Cooke. A notorious poacher named Howell made it his
headquarters. Its proximity to the northeast boundary of the Park made
it a convenient point from which to conduct his raids and to which he
might convey his booty. If he killed even a single buffalo, and safely
packed out of the Park its head or hide, he was sure of realizing a
large sum. If he was captured while making the attempt, he knew he was
safe from punishment, and that there was no penalty, even if there was
an offense. A less lawless man might have indulged a flexible conscience
with the idea that, as there was no punishment, there was no crime. A
similar view of ethics had been indulged in by a prominent member of the
gospel, who had killed game in the Park, and sought extenuation on the
ground that he had not violated any law. But Howell was not a man who
sought to justify his actions; it was sufficient for him that he
incurred no risk. The time he selected for his deed of destruction he
thought the most propitious for covering up his tracks. His operations
were conducted in the most tempestuous weather in that most tempestuous
month, March, in the year 1894. The snow then was deepest, and Howell
felt there would be little chance of interference by scouting or other
parties. Eluding the guard stationed in the northern portion of the
Park, on stormy nights, he stole into the Park and built a lodge in the
locality where the buffalo wintered. In it he stored his supplies, which
he had conveyed on a toboggan. He traveled on _skis_, the Norwegian
snowshoes, ten feet long, which are generally used in the Northwestern
country. This enabled him to traverse the roughest mountain range with
ease and great rapidity, even in the deepest snow. Once established, the
killing was an easy matter. He had only to find the buffalo where the
snow was deep. The ponderous, unwieldy animals had small chance of
escape from his pursuit. His quarry was soon located, and he needed no
assistance to make a surround; for, while the frightened, confused
beasts were plunging in the snow, in a vain attempt to extricate
themselves, the butcher glided swiftly around them on his snowshoes,
approaching as close as he chose. With his rapid-firing gun he
slaughtered them as easily as if they had been cattle in a corral. How
many he killed will never be known. The remains of many of his victims
will never be found.
[Illustration: IN YELLOWSTONE PARK SNOWS.]
But while the ruffian was busiest in his bloody work, a man was speeding
over the snow toward him from the south. He too was on _skis_. He too
was a mountain man, who thought as little of the obstacles before him as
Howell did. But the object of his trip was not the buffalo, but Howell.
It was human game he was pursuing. Howell had not covered up his tracks
as well as he thought. The trailer had struck a trail which he never
left till it brought him to the object of his pursuit. This man was
Burgess, the Yellowstone Park scout. He had learned of Howell's presence
in the Park, and was sent out, with the intention of apprehending him,
by the energetic superintendent, Captain Anderson. He proceeded on his
course as swiftly as a howling wind would permit, when he was surprised
by seeing suspended from some trees six buffalo scalps. He now felt that
he was in close vicinity to the man he was hunting, and that his
business had become a serious one. He knew the man who had done that
deed was prepared to resist and commit a greater crime. But this did not
deter him and he again took the trail. He had proceeded only a short
distance when he heard six shots. Hastening up a hill, he saw Howell
engaged in butchering five buffalo, the victims of the six shots.
Howell's gun was resting on the body of one of the slain animals, a few
feet away from where he was engaged in removing a scalp from another of
the bison. So occupied was he in his work that he did not perceive the
scout, who had emerged in plain view, and who silently glided to the
weapon, and, securing it, had Howell at his mercy. The demand to throw
up his hands was the first intimation Howell had that he was not alone
in the buffalo country. It must have been difficult for the scout at
that moment not to forget that ours is a Government of law, and to
refrain from making as summary an end of Howell as Howell had made of
the buffalo.
The poacher accepted his capture with equanimity, casually remarking
that if he had seen Burgess first he never would have been captured. He
was conveyed to the post headquarters. As soon as the Secretary of the
Interior heard of his arrest, he ordered his discharge, as there was no
law by which he could be detained or otherwise punished. Howell was
proud of his achievement and of the notoriety it gave him, boasting
that he had killed altogether eighty of the bison. This statement may
only have been made for the purpose of magnifying his crime and so
enhancing his importance. It may, however, be true. Besides those
actually known to have been slaughtered by him, the remains of thirteen
other bison, it is said, have been found in the Park. It is probable
they were all killed by him.
When the intelligence of what had happened reached the country, much
indignation was manifested. The public, which after all did have a vague
sense of pride in the Park, and a rather loose wish to see it cared for,
was shocked and surprised to discover that no law existed by which the
offense could be reached. They were aroused to the knowledge that the
Park was the only portion of our domain uncontrolled by law. The Boone
and Crockett Club took prompt advantage of this awakened feeling, and
redoubled its efforts to secure action by the National Legislature.
Congress had long been deaf to the appeals of the few individuals who,
year after year, endeavored to obtain a law; but now, at last, they
realized that some action was really needed if they desired to save
anything in the Park. Mr. Lacey, of Iowa, the gentleman whom we have
mentioned as having had a practical experience of the condition of
affairs in the Park, was naturally the first to take hold of the
opportunity which public opinion afforded. He willingly adopted the
chief jurisdictional and police features contained in the Park bill to
which we have so frequently referred as repeatedly passing the Senate.
He readily acquiesced in all the amendments which were proposed by
members of the Boone and Crockett Club. The Club pushed the matter
vigorously. The aid of many prominent members of the House of
Representatives was enlisted. Before the hostile railroad party knew of
the movement, the bill was presented to the House, unanimous consent for
its consideration obtained, and it was passed. In the Senate the bill
was among its friends, and Senator Vest was again instrumental in
securing its passage. The promoters of the railroad scheme thought it
more prudent not to meddle with the bill in the Senate, as they would
have been certain to have encountered defeat.
The Act provides penalties and the means of enforcing them, and thus
secures adequate protection. It makes the violation of any rule or
regulation of the Secretary of the Interior a misdemeanor. It prohibits
the killing or capture of game, or the taking of fish in an unlawful
manner. It forbids transportation of game, and for the violation of the
Act or regulations it imposes a fine not to exceed $1,000, or
imprisonment not to exceed two years, or both. It also confiscates the
traps, guns and means of transport of persons engaged in killing or
capturing game. Finally a local magistrate is appointed, with
jurisdiction to try all offenders violating the law governing the Park,
and it specifies the jurisdiction over felonies committed in the Park.
By a happy coincidence the new system was inaugurated by the trial and
conviction of the first offender put on trial, and it was Howell who was
the first prisoner in the dock. He had returned to the Park after the
passage of the law, and was tried and convicted of violating the order
of the Secretary of the Interior, by which he was expelled after he had
slaughtered the buffalo. This was retributive justice indeed. The Club
had desired that the law should be extended by Congress over the
Yellowstone Park Forest Reserve, but legal difficulties were
encountered, so that this protection had to be deferred. It is to be
hoped that in the near future this important adjunct to the Park may
have the same law applied to it.
The Park is now on a solid foundation, and all that is necessary for its
future welfare is the prevention of adverse legislation cutting down its
limits or authorizing railroads within it. In the winter of 1894-95 the
railroad scheme, now disguised under the form of a bill to regulate the
boundaries of the Park, came up again. This was the old segregation
plan. It aimed not only to cut off from the Park that valuable portion
already described, and embracing 367 square miles north of the
Yellowstone, but also to make extensive cuts in the Forest Reserve for
railroad and other purposes, amounting to 640 square miles. This
spoliation was not permitted. Congress seemed at last to be determined
to support the Park intact, and the Committee of the Fifty-fourth
Congress in the House having the Park legislation in charge manifested
this disposition by adverse reports on all the bills to authorize
railroads and on the segregation bill as well.
The present boundaries only need marking on the ground--a mere matter of
departmental action. There is no need of legislation on the subject. The
boundaries, especially on the north, afford such natural features as
constitute the best possible barrier to prevent depredation from
without, and to insure the retention of the game within, the Park.
Notwithstanding the inadequacy of the protection in former years, the
game has increased largely, especially since the military occupation.
Competent authority has estimated the number of elk as high as 20,000,
though this is probably too large a figure. Moose are frequently
encountered. Mountain sheep and antelope are found in goodly numbers. It
is doubtful now whether there are over 200 buffalo left. Bears of the
different varieties are very plentiful and deer are also quite abundant.
The animals thoroughly appreciate their security. They have largely lost
their fear of man. Antelope and sheep can be seen in the vicinity of the
stage roads, and are not disturbed by constant travel. Wild geese, ducks
and other birds refuse to rise from the water near which men pass.
But bears show the most indifference for human presence. Attracted by
the food obtained, they frequent the neighborhood of the hotels in the
Park. The writer of these notes, together with some companions, had a
good opportunity, in the latter part of August, 1894, to observe how
bold and careless these generally wary animals may become if not hunted.
When we reached the Lake Hotel, the clerk asked us if we wished to see a
bear, as he could show us one after we had finished dinner. We went with
him to a spot some 200 feet back of the hotel, where refuse was
deposited. It was then a little after sunset. We waited some moments,
when the clerk, taking his watch out of his pocket said, "It is strange
he has not come down; he is now a little overdue." Before he had
replaced his watch, he exclaimed, "Here he comes now," and we saw
descending slowly from a hill close by a very large black bear. The bear
approached us, when I said to the clerk, "Had not we better get behind
the timber? He will be frightened off should he see us." He answered,
"No, he will not be frightened in the least," and continued to converse
with us in a loud voice. We were then standing in the open close by a
swill heap and the bear was coming toward us, there being no timber
intervening. We did not move, but continued talking. The bear came up to
us without hesitation, diverging slightly from his direct route to the
swill heap so as to approach nearer to where we were. He surveyed us
leisurely, with his nose in the air, got our scent, and, seeming content
that we were only harmless human beings, turned slowly away and went to
the refuse, where he proceeded to make a meal. We watched him for quite
a while, when a large wagon passing along the road nigh to where we
stood, the bear stopped feeding and turned toward the hotel in the
direction in which the wagon was traveling. Our guide exclaimed, "He has
gone to visit the pig sty," and in a little while we were satisfied this
was so by hearing a loud outcry of "b'ar, b'ar," which we afterward
found proceeded from a Chinaman, one of whose special duties it was to
keep bears out of the pig sty.
[Illustration: ON THE SHORE OF YELLOWSTONE LAKE.]
After the departure of the black bear we retraced our steps, but before
getting to the hotel I suggested to one of my companions, Del. Hay, that
if we returned to the refuse pile we might see another bear. We
accordingly went back on the trail to within a few yards of where we
stood before. When we stopped we heard, in the timber near by, a great
noise, as if dead pine branches were being smashed, and there emerged
into the open a large grizzly. Although he was not quite so familiar as
the black bear, he showed no hesitation, but walked straight toward us
and the object of his visit--the swill. Before reaching his
destination, however, he stopped and squatted on his haunches, calmly
surveying the scene before him. The reason why he stopped became at once
apparent. From the same hill down which the black bear had come we saw
another grizzly, larger than the first, moving toward us at a rapid
gait, in fact, on a lope, while the first grizzly regarded him with a
look not altogether friendly or cordial. The second bear did not stop an
instant until he reached the swill heap, where he proceeded to devour
everything in sight, without any regard to us or to his fellow squatted
near by. The latter apparently had had some experience on a former
occasion which he was not desirous of repeating.
Three men coming through the timber toward us made a considerable
racket, and the two bears moved off at no rapid gait in opposite
directions; but they went only a short way. Until we left the spot we
could see them on the edge of the timber, looking toward us, and, no
doubt, waiting for more quiet before partaking of the delights before
them. It was not easy to realize the scene before us was actual. The dim
twilight, the huge forms of the bears pacing to and fro through the
whitened dead timber, made it appear the creation of a disordered fancy.
It did not seem natural to be in close proximity with animals esteemed
so ferocious, at liberty in their native wilds, with no desire to attack
them and with no disposition on their part to attack us. When the three
men joined us and were talking about the bears, one of them shouted,
"Here come two more," and before we could realize it we saw two
good-sized cinnamons at the feast. They paid no attention whatever to
us, but were entirely absorbed in finishing up what the other bears had
left. By this time it was fast becoming dark and we returned to the
hotel. I should have said that we measured the distance from the nearest
point from the black bear to where we stood, and found it to be exactly
twenty-one feet. The other bears were but a few yards further.
When we returned to the house we entertained our friends with an account
of what we had seen, and had there not been many eye-witnesses we
probably would have been entirely disbelieved.[14] As we were narrating
our story a man came into the room and said, "If you want some fun, come
outside; we have a bear up a tree." We went outside of the hotel, and
not over forty feet from it found a black bear in a pine tree. It seems
that the wagon, already mentioned, had been stopped at the pine tree and
the horses had been taken out. The owner, returning to his wagon, found
the bear in it, and this was the explanation why the bear had so
suddenly taken to the tree.
[14] Colonel John Hay, of Washington, was one of the spectators of
this curious scene. Captain Albrecht Heese, of the German Embassy,
tells us that in July, 1895, while stopping at the Lake Hotel, he saw
a very large bear eating out of a trough in the daytime while a number
of tourists were present; and that the bear was finally chased away
from the trough by a cow. At the Upper Geyser Basin a bear was
domiciled in the hotel; it took food from the hands of the hotel
keeper, following him around like a dog.
The animal was considerably smaller than the one we had seen earlier; in
fact, it was not more than half as large, but still full grown. Quite a
number of packers and teamsters stood about, amusing themselves by
making the bear climb higher, till at last one of them asked our driver,
Jim McMasters, why he did not climb the tree and shake the bear out. It
was quite dark, and McMasters replied that he would not mind doing so if
there were enough daylight for him to see. His companions continuing to
banter him, he finally said, "I believe I'll go up anyhow," and up he
went, climbing, however--instead of the tree the bear had ascended--a
companion tree which grew alongside of the other, the trunks of the two
not being more than a foot or so apart and the branches interlaced. We
soon lost sight of McMasters and of the bear also; for, as Jim climbed
the bear would climb too, until at last they both had reached the top of
their respective perches, when we heard Jim cry out, "Boys, he's got to
come down; I can reach him." With that he proceeded to break off a small
branch of his tree, and we could hear him whack the bear with it, and
also could hear the bear remonstrating with a very unpleasant voice, at
times approaching a roar. But at last the bear seemed to have made up
his mind that it was better to come down than stay up and be whacked
with a pine branch, so down he came, but not with any great rapidity,
stopping at every resting place, until Jim came down too and gave him a
little persuading.
We could now see the action, but its dangerous features were lost sight
of in its amusing ones. Jim had climbed into the tree down which the
bear was descending, and when he was not persuading the bear he was
pleading with us somewhat as follows: "Now, boys, don't throw up here,
and don't none of you hit him until he gets down. If he should make up
his mind to come up again he'd clean me out, sure." After each speech of
this sort he would move down to where the bear was and apply his branch,
whereupon both the man and the animal would descend a few pegs lower.
At last the bear was almost near the ground. We all formed a circle
around the tree, prepared to give both man and beast a reception when
they should alight. The beast came first, and every fellow who had
anything in the way of wood in his hand gave the bear a blow or two as a
warning not to return to the wagon again. Bruin made off into the timber
with great precipitancy. Jim, when he got down, did not seem to think
that he had done anything more than if the bear had been a "possum,"
which he had shaken out of the tree.
Head-Measurements of the Trophies at the Madison Square Garden
Sportsmen's Exhibition
During the week beginning May 14, 1895, there was held in Madison Square
Garden, New York, a Sportsmen's Exhibition. There was a fair exhibit of
heads, horns and skins, for which the credit largely belongs to
Frederick S. Webster, the taxidermist.
At the request of the managers of the Exhibition, three of the members
of the Boone and Crockett Club--Messrs. Theodore Roosevelt, George Bird
Grinnell and Archibald Rogers--were appointed a Committee on
Measurements. There were heads and skins of every kind of North American
big game. Many of them were exhibited by amateur sportsmen, including
various members of the Boone and Crockett Club, while many others were
exhibited by furriers and taxidermists.
Some of the measurements are worth recording. For convenience we
tabulate, in the case of each animal, the measurements of the specimens
exhibited by amateur sportsmen who themselves shot the animals. For
purposes of comparison we add the measurements of a few big heads
exhibited by taxidermists or furriers; also for purposes of comparison
we quote the figures given in two works published with special
reference to the question of horn measurements. One is the "Catalogue
and Notes of the American Hunting Trophies Exhibition" at London in
1887. The moving spirit in this exhibition was Mr. E. M. Buxton, who was
assisted by all the most noted English sportsmen who had shot in
America. The result was a noteworthy collection of trophies, almost all
of which belonged to animals shot by the exhibitors themselves. Very few
Americans took part in the exhibition, though several did so, one of the
two finest moose heads being exhibited by an American sportsman.
The other big game book quoted is Rowland Ward's "Measurements,"
published in London in 1892. This is a very valuable compilation of
authentic records of horn measurements gathered from many different
sources. In many cases it quotes from Mr. Buxton's catalogue. The
largest elk head, for instance, given by Ward is the one mentioned in
the Buxton catalogue. But in most instances the top measurements given
by Ward stand above the top measurements given in the catalogue, because
the latter, as already said, contains only a record of the trophies of
amateur sportsmen, whereas many of Ward's best measurements are from
museum specimens, or from picked heads obtained from furriers or
taxidermists, who chose the best out of those presented by many hundreds
of professional hunters.
At the Madison Square exhibition there were numerous bear skins, polar,
grizzly and black, submitted by men who had shot them. There were a few
wolf and cougar skins and one peccary head; but there was no
satisfactory way of making measurements of any of these. The peccary's
head, which was submitted by Mr. Roosevelt, of course, had the tusks in
the skull, so that it was not possible to measure them; for the same
reason it was not possible to measure the skulls which were in the heads
of the bear, wolf and cougar skins exhibited by Mr. Roosevelt.
There were few Oregon blacktail deer heads exhibited, and these were not
large. The one exhibited by Mr. Roosevelt, for instance, had horns 21
inches in length, 4 inches in girth and 17 inches in spread.
In measuring most horns it is comparatively easy to get some relative
idea of the size of the heads by giving simply the girth and length. The
spread is often given also; but this is not a good measurement, as a
rule, because, in mounting the head, it is very easy to increase the
spread; and, moreover, even where the spread is natural, it may be
excessive and out of proportion to the length of the horns, in which
case it amounts to a deformity. The length is in every case measured
from the butt to the tip along the outside curve of the horn. The girth
is given at the butt in the case of buffalo, sheep, goat and antelope;
but in the case of deer it is given at the narrowest part of the horn,
above the first tine; in elk this narrowest part comes between the bay
and tray points; in blacktail and whitetail deer it comes above the
"dog-killer" points, and below the main fork in the horn. Even in the
case of elk, deer, sheep and buffalo the measurements of length and
girth do not always indicate how fine a head is, although they generally
give at least an approximate idea. The symmetry of the head cannot be
indicated by these measurements. In elk and deer heads, extra points,
though sometimes mere deformities, yet when large and symmetrical add
greatly to the appearance and value of the head, making it heavier and
grander in every way, and being a proof of great strength and vitality
of the animal and of the horn itself. In consequence, although the
measurements of length and girth generally afford a good test of the
relative worth of buffalo, elk, sheep and deer heads, it is not by any
means an infallible test.
With moose and caribou heads the test of mere length and girth is of far
less value; for many of them have such extraordinary antlers that the
measurements of length and girth mean but little, and give hardly any
idea of the weight and beauty of the antlers. With moose a better idea
of these qualities can be obtained by measuring the extreme breadth of
the palmation, and the extreme length from the tip of the brow point
backward in each horn. Caribou horns are often of such fantastic shape
that the actual measurements, taken in any ordinary way, give but a very
imperfect idea of the value of the trophies. Very long horns are sure to
be fine specimens, and yet they may not be nearly as fine as those which
are much shorter, but more branched, and with the branches longer,
broader and heavier, and at the same time more beautiful. Thus, at the
Madison Square Garden, C. G. Gunther's Sons, the furriers, exhibited one
caribou with antlers 50 inches long, of the barren ground type, with 43
points. These horns were very slender, and would not have weighed more
than a third as much as an enormous pair belonging to a woodland
caribou, which were some 10 inches shorter in extreme length, and with
rather fewer points, but were more massive in every way, the beam being
far larger, and all of the tines being palmated to a really
extraordinary extent.
_TABULATED SERIES_
With name of owner, and locality and date of capture.