up their sides.  The elk were for the most part found up on the snow slopes, occasionally singly or in small gangs—­more often in bands of from fifty to a couple of hundred.  The larger bulls were highest up the mountains and generally in small troops by themselves, although occasionally one or two would be found associating with a big herd of cows, yearlings, and two-year-olds.  Many of the bulls had shed their antlers; many had not.  During the winter the elk had evidently done much browsing, but at this time they were grazing almost exclusively, and seemed by preference to seek out the patches of old grass which were last left bare by the retreating snow.  The bands moved about very little, and if one were seen one day it was generally possible to find it within a few hundred yards of the same spot the next day, and certainly not more than a mile or two off.  There were severe frosts at night, and occasionally light flurries of snow; but the hardy beasts evidently cared nothing for any but heavy storms, and seemed to prefer to lie in the snow rather than upon the open ground.  They fed at irregular hours throughout the day, just like cattle; one band might be lying down while another was feeding.  While traveling they usually went almost in single file.  Evidently the winter had weakened them, and they were not in condition for running; for on the one or two occasions when I wanted to see them close up I ran right into them on horseback, both on level plains and going up hill along the sides of rather steep mountains.  One band in particular I practically rounded up for John Burroughs—­finally getting them to stand in a huddle while he and I sat on our horses less than fifty yards off.  After they had run a little distance they opened their mouths wide and showed evident signs of distress.

[Illustration:  Wapiti in deep snow.]

We came across a good many carcasses.  Two, a bull and a cow, had died from scab.  Over half the remainder had evidently perished from cold or starvation.  The others, including a bull, three cows and a score of yearlings, had been killed by cougars.  In the Park the cougar is at present their only animal foe.  The cougars were preying on nothing but elk in the Yellowstone Valley, and kept hanging about the neighborhood of the big bands.  Evidently they usually selected some outlying yearling, stalked it as it lay or as it fed, and seized it by the head and throat.  The bull which they killed was in a little open valley by himself, many miles from any other elk.  The cougar which killed it, judging from its tracks, was a very large male.  As the elk were evidently rather too numerous for the feed, I do not think the cougars were doing any damage.

[Illustration:  Old Ephraim.]