-door worlds of natural history had
been conquered, and that the only worlds remaining were in the
laboratory, and to be won with the microscope and the scalpel. But
Roosevelt was a man made for action in a wide field, and laboratory
conquests could not satisfy him. His instincts as a naturalist,
however, lie back of all his hunting expeditions, and, in a large
measure, I think, prompt them. Certain it is that his hunting records
contain more live natural history than any similar records known
to me, unless it be those of Charles St. John, the Scotch
naturalist-sportsman.

The Canada jays, or camp-robbers, as they are often called, soon found
out our camp that afternoon, and no sooner had the cook begun to throw
out peelings and scraps and crusts than the jays began to carry them
off, not to eat, as I observed, but to hide them in the thicker
branches of the spruce trees. How tame they were, coming within three
or four yards of one! Why this species of jay should everywhere be so
familiar, and all other kinds so wild, is a puzzle.

In the morning, as we rode down the valley toward our next
camping-place, at Tower Falls, a band of elk containing a hundred or
more started along the side of the hill a few hundred yards away. I
was some distance behind the rest of the party, as usual, when I saw
the President wheel his horse off to the left, and, beckoning to me
to follow, start at a tearing pace on the trail of the fleeing elk. He
afterwards told me that he wanted me to get a good view of those elk
at close range, and he was afraid that if he sent the major or Hofer
to lead me, I would not get it. I hurried along as fast as I could,
which was not fast; the way was rough,--logs, rocks, spring runs, and
a tenderfoot rider.

WILD ELK

Now and then the President, looking back and seeing what slow progress
I was making, would beckon to me impatiently, and I could fancy him
saying, "If I had a rope around him, he would come faster than that!"
Once or twice I lost sight of both him and the elk; the altitude was
great, and the horse was laboring like a steam-engine on an upgrade.
Still I urged him on. Presently, as I broke over a hill, I saw the
President pressing the elk up the opposite slope. At the brow of the
hill he stopped, and I soon joined him. There on the top, not fifty
yards away, stood the elk in a mass, their heads toward us and their
tongues hanging out. They could run no farther. The President laughed
like a