My brother, running partner, and fellow member of the Willow Creek Free Trappers, carries the name “Wapiti Dung”.  (Please keep in mind as this article continues that mountain men never lie).  Us Willow Creek boys are serious when it comes to mountain lure and the like.  Most free trapper groups have handles (names) like “Cat Skinner or “Old Jeb”.  We have members like “No Grimace” and “Softball”.  In coming issues I shall attempt to fill you all in on all the members and how their handles go hung on them.

Back to Wapiti Dung—Somewhere high in the back wood area of the Rocky Mountains we were camped.  It was snowing and had been for a couple of weeks.  We had polished off all our grub and had resorted to boiling our arm fringe to make soup—we had hungered real bad.  Old Wapiti Dung went out after meat.  About 100 yards from the tepee he jumped an 8-point (western count) elk (wapiti)!  BLAM!!! Went his trusty Hawken.  He got the elk, but where he hit it we will never know.  The rest of us heard the shot and ran out in the direction of the shot to help Wapiti skin the critter.  When we finally located him we were amazed to find only Wapiti leaning against a tree picking his teeth.  The snow was covered with small dark oval things and other assorted inner items I won’t mention.  “Where is the animal?” we asked.  “Dang it boys!  I was so blamed hungry when I got that close to fresh meat I ate it”.  “Even the horns?”  “I couldn’t help it!  Here, I saved each of you an ivory toothpick, carved them with my teeth as I knarled those old horns”.  “Is there anything left?”  “You bet—all those raisin looking things scattered about.  They are easy to see laying there in the snow.”  “Ya, but that’s elk poop!”  “I know!  I couldn’t stand to think of eating it even as hungry as I was!”

“Start gathering it up boys—must be better than arm fringe soup—Gee whiz Wapiti Dung soup—I ain’t sure this is going to be worth it—Good grief Wapiti Dung!”

And that’s the truth!!

Bears Butt

July-Aug. 1986