Hunting Reports

OUTLAW BULL

By Durwood Hollis

As the first light of the new day filtered through the trees, there was a disquieting emptiness along the shallow stream and across the expansive meadow. Fresh tracks indicated

The nine-hour horseback ride into Bliss Creek followed the course of the south fork of the Shoshoni River.

that the elk were here, but their apparent absence was particularly disquieting. "Last week I saw at least three good bulls and several cows in this meadow every day",  outfitter and guide Tim Doud said quietly.

Something was wrong. There was still plenty of food available and dawn marked the opening moments of the season. When it comes to elk hunting, I've learned to expect the unexpected - nothing comes as a surprise anymore. Tim thought he'd find elk in the meadow, but disappointingly the only thing present on four legs was an immature bull moose that quickly made his way into the timber. "When we rode into camp late last night, maybe we disturbed the elk?"  Tim questioned aloud.

It sounded like a plausible reason, but at that point any reason was better than none at all. Tim was trying to be rational and the "They were here yesterday" excuse seemed to be as good as

any. Maybe we did accidentally "kick  the elk out of the meadow riding into camp well past sundown". However, the animals should have settled down and returned to their regular feeding habits.

"Look here",  Tim said pointing to several well defined grizzly tracks in the mud. "These bear tracks are right on top of our stock prints from last night. Maybe the elk got nervous with that bear around and were more cautious about feeding out in the open",  he remarked.

I remember thinking to myself, "if it isn't one thing, it's another. I should have been here last week during the archery season; the grizzly could have picked another trail to walk on; and where the hell were the elk?"

We were nearly at the end of the meadow before things began to look promising. A scattering of fresh elk tracks crossed the trail and headed up into timber. "Here's a big bull track. Maybe this is our outlaw",  Tim whispered  as he knelt down and pointed to the sharp outline of a solitary set of huge elk tracks in the snow.

By now, the word "outlaw"  was a familiar term. Through coincidence or design, our hunting camp was situated on Bliss Creek at its intersection with the Southfork of the Shoshone River. Our neat cluster of tents were located in the pines, along a remote meadow, some 22 miles from the nearest trailhead. A place of seclusion, the narrow meadow that adjoined the river had been a hideout for the notorious outlaw, Jack Bliss. Coincidentally, it was also the historic feeding grounds of more than one band of elk.

During the nine hour ride into camp on the previous day, I'd heard all about Jack Bliss. It seems that he made his living rustling cattle and horses from both sides of the Continental Divide. Spending time among steers and horses when the opportunity presented itself. After putting together a string of stock, the renegade would trail them up to his remote meadow hideout and wait until things cooled down a bit. When the time was right, he'd take the rustled animals over Shoshoni Pass and down into the town of Dubois, Wyoming.

Since Cody and Dubois were on opposite sides of the Divide, and reachable only over a tough trail, there was little traffic between the two communities. The separation of the two towns by 50 miles or so made Jack Bliss's illegal business venture a viable operation. He'd liberate stock from Cody and sell it in Dubois. Then there would be a repeat of this nefarious activity in the Dubois area and Bliss would hole-up at his backcountry camp awhile until things cooled down. Then he'd return to Cody to repeat his

The author's "home away from home"  was a wall tent tucked into the protective cover of the pines.

previous illicit marketing strategy. It was a sweet setup as long as ranchers on one side of the Divide didn't communicate with those on the other side.

Good things have a way of not lasting and that's how it went with Jack Bliss's rustling. In time, the ranchers on both sides of the Divide had just about had a bellyful of Jack Bliss. The practice of hiring "Range Detectives"  (really nothing more than paid thugs) to resolve this sort of problem had proven effective in other areas (the Tom Horn affair to the east of Cheyenne, Wyoming was just one classic example). Following suit, ranchers in the Cody area employed two men, one of which had been a former Bliss confidant and partner in the rustling scheme.

Utilizing information gleaned from informants, and previous knowledge of Jack Bliss's method of operation, the two "Range Detectives"  trailed him to the secluded meadow deep in the back country. One must remember that often the 19th Century cash reward policy for the capture of an outlaw was paid on a dead or alive  basis. All too often the "dead" part of the commission seemed the reasonable approach to most bounty hunters.

After locating Bliss's horse, the men lay in wait for the outlaw. When he made his appearance, a gunfight ensued and the outlaw's career met an unceremonious end. Due to the remote location of the killing, the body was buried on the spot. Later, in one final act of vengeance, Spring flooding from the creek washed Bliss's remains into the Shoshoni River and downstream to oblivion.

An eerie bugle broke the silence and pushed my adrenalin flow into overdrive. Tim used his call to replicate the challenge and we received an immediate response. With nothing more than a simple "Let 's go",  from Tim, we headed in the bull's direction. Things were definitely looking up!

Jogging through a foot of snow at 8,500 feet above sea level might have been easy for Tim Doud, but for someone accustomed to a substantially lower elevation - it was serious aerobic exercise. In a short time, my pounding heart and heaving chest signaled the need for added oxygen. Even more difficult was controlling my excitement when we heard the bull bugle again.

"He's on the move",  Tim said quietly.

Despite the missing second tine on the left branch, the author's outlaw bull sported an antler frame that raw scored 280 points.

The image of a 19th century outlaw eluding his pursuers quickly flashed through my mind. Maybe Jack Bliss's ghost was still active after all these years? The bull knew something was amiss and our window of opportunity was closing fast. Slowing down to a fast walk we moved quickly through the timber until a little "pocket"  meadow became visible. In reality it was more than a slender thread of grass that provided a break in the verdant pines, but it was here that we would find the elk.

Just as we set foot in the opening, two or three cows trotted down slope towards our position. Realizing that the bull was nearby, we waited for him to give away his position. It didn't take long for that to happen. First, more cows filtered into the grass and milled about and then the bull made his emergence.

Moving from our right a little more than 100 yards in front of us, the heavy-antlered elk took command of his herd.

Dropping down to a sitting position, I used a pine sapling to rest the Winchester Model 70 bolt-gun. Now, it was only a matter of waiting for the right opportunity. The bull was clearly visible, but the milling cows prevented a clear shot. Things were falling apart as quickly as they had come together.

Frustrated, I watched as the elk moved back towards the timber. Just then, Tim used his cow call to produce a longing chirp. That's all it took to stop the bull dead in his tracks. Bringing the scope crosshairs to a position low and just behind the front shoulder, I waited for the last cow to clear out of the shot path.

"He's a good bull",  Tim whispered.

The decision was mine. Indeed, it was a fine bull with six-points on the near side antler branch.  What came next was a scene that seemed in slow motion. I recall the bull standing there one moment and then the roar of rifle filling my ears the next instant. It was as if I hadn't even really squeezed the trigger at all. At the shot, the bull leaped straight into the air and took off in a straight line for the timber. However, I knew my target hold had been good. The words, "that's a dead bull",  came from my lips with absolute confidence.

"True story",  Tim replied.

Quickly, we made our way up the slope to cut the bull's tracks. Elk sign was scattered everywhere and a broad splash of fresh blood was evident in the snow. Scanning the edge of the timber in the direction of that sanguine evidence, we could see the bull sprawled limply not more than 50 yards away. There was little need for a cautious approach. The 220-grain Winchester Power Point bullet had taken the animal through both lungs, as well as cutting an awesome hole in the top of the heart.

A hot cup of campfire coffee was the best cure for sore muscles after a hard day's hunt.

Tim grasped the antlers and turned them from side-to-side. "Yep, this is the same old outlaw bull that every guide in camp has stalked at one time or another",  he said after recognizing the animal by the somewhat irregular antler configuration. "I guess you had his number, because none of us were able to get up on him - until this morning. His bad luck, I guess",  he went on to state.

"No more ghost stories",  I replied.

"Well, this bull had a certain amount of Jack Bliss in his personality",  Tim stated.

Next came field dressing and the other activities associated with primary game care. Despite the fact that I'd taken the bull just an hour after daylight, it was late afternoon before we were finished skinning, caping, boning the meat, and packing back to camp. Securing the meat, cape, and antlers in a bear-proof cache, we retired to the cook tent just in time for dinner.

Not long after sundown, a storm slipped in over the top of the Shoshoni Pass and for the next three days, snow, sleet and rain completely shut the camp down. When it finally quit snowing, Tim's words it's a good bull,  whispered just before I dropped the hammer, began to take on a whole new meaning. While the antlers wouldn't shake the foundation of any record book, the elk's irregular 5x6 point headgear was plenty heavy with long tines. Taken one mile from camp, an hour into the season, and at the edge of a storm - quite frankly, it was a great bull!

During the next three days of storm confinement in the camp cook tent, the legend of Jack Bliss took on new proportions. Not only had I taken what amounted to an "outlaw  bull", but everyone agreed that Jack Bliss's ghost had finally been beaten. In time, I became known as the "Ghost Buster",  an appellation that brought gales of laughter from the entire camp staff. The recommendation to either study the occult, or take up "Range Detective"  work seemed prominent on my list of things to do in preparation for next year's elk hunt.

Trip Facts

AREA HUNTED: The Bliss creek intersection with the south fork of the Shoshoni River, approximately 40 miles west of Cody, Wyoming.

TRANSPORATION: The Cody, Wyoming airport may be accessed via the Denver, Colorado hub. Vehicular transportation to the trailhead is provided by the outfitter. Due to the nature of the rugged trail into Bliss Creek, the horseback ride into hunting camp takes approximately nine hours.

LICENSES: Elk licenses in Wyoming are allotted by drawing and can only be obtained by the submission of a license application and appropriate fees to: Wyoming Game and Fish Department, 5400 Bishop Blvd., Cheyenne, WY 82006-0001.  The deadline for elk license applications in 1996 was February 1st. The current license fee schedule is: non-resident elk license $355 (Special Draw) $555.

SPECIAL REGULATIONS: Big game hunters must wear at least one outer garment (hat, vest, shirt, jacket, or coat) of hunter (blaze) orange. The minimum age to hunt big game is 14 years of age. In designated Wilderness areas, non-resident hunters are required to hunt with a guide.

WEATHER CONDITIONS: October in Wyoming can bring a full range of weather conditions, including rain, sleet, snow, and ice. Daytime high temperatures can range into the 60s, but expect below freezing night-time temperatures.

GUNS & LOADS: The author used a Winchester Model 70 bolt-gun, chambered in .338 Winchester Magnum, firing factory-loaded Winchester ammunition with a 220-grain Power-Point bullet. Other suitable calibers for elk in mixed cover include:  .30-06 Sprgfld., .356 Win., 7mm Rem. Mag., .300 Win.Mag., .35 Whelen, .350 Rem. Mag., and the .375 Win. Magnum.

OTHER CONSIDERATIONS: Waterproof boots or insulated packs, along with a change of socks for each hunting day, are essential for foot comfort. Proven rain gear must be carried afield daily. While your outfitter may be able to provide a rifle scabbard and saddle bags, acquiring your own makes real sense.

OUTFITTER: The author hunted with Bliss Creek Outfitters and rated their services as outstanding. For information on their hunt package, contact: Tim Doud, 326  Diamond Basin Rd., Cody, WY 82414, 307/527-6103, FAX 307/527-6523. A complete listing of outfitters and guides can be obtained by contacting: Wyoming Outfitters Association, P.O. Box 2284, Cody, WY 82414, 307/527-7453, FAX 307-587-8633.