The butcher's bill as of today:

Over seventy-five elk confirmed down.

Seventy-five.

Now, that's down, not dead. Probably half of those are down, but still alive. Most found in the past three days.

Not that the problem is getting worse. Actually, looks like it might be slowing down some. Many of these appear to have been laying in one spot for a week, or more. We've just been getting out in the country a little more, using an ATV and, today, an airplane again.

Guess who got to fly in the plane?

Oh, joy.

But not too bad, only a one-bagger.

Being in the plane meant I missed all the excitement on the ground. Four folks from our outfit, three or four extra veterinary folks (including a toxicity specialist), and six or seven university students. Finding, examining, killing and processing three more elk in the field.

Their preliminary impressions basically reinforcing what they learned from the previous five elk:

It's something they ate or drank.

It's fatal.

Yeah, we had one bull who was down on Sunday, and had managed to move himself out of sight by Monday. But, as a rule, it looks like once they go down, they're not getting back up. Laying there in their own waste, waiting to die of starvation, dehydration, or constipation.

To date, the killings have been limited to those nearly gone already, and those needed for necropsy. It appears it would be more merciful to end it for many, or all, of the others that we can reach.

Heartbreaking to see an elk bedded in a draw miles from any access, snowdrifts piled high on both sides, able to do nothing more than turn its head and watch as the plane passes by.

As one warden said, we need more ammo.

There is good news. Main purpose of our flight was to find how far this malady extends. And we found elk down from one end of this winter range to the other. But we also checked over 700 elk in the main wintering areas just to the south, where the dying elk originally came from, and found not a one that could not stand. Yeah, there were a couple small bands on high ridges that refused to get up and expose themselves to the wind, but you could tell they were in normal, fresh beds. Not wallows of feces and dirt.

I tell you, it was good to see things like this.