I broke cover within a few yards of him.

What a splendid fellow he looked! He was about thirteen hands high, and carried the most beautiful head of horns that I had ever seen upon an elk.

His mane was bristled up, his nostril was distended, and, turning from the pack, he surveyed me, as though taking the measure of his new antagonist.

Not seeming satisfied, he deliberately turned, and, descending from the level space, he carefully, picked his way.

Down narrow elk-runs along the steep precipices, and, at a slow walk, with the whole pack in single file at his heels, he clambered down toward the river.