22 The Ottawa Naturalist. [April 



when I was scouring the opposite side of a canyon with my glass 



a fine adult Golden Eagle settled on a level with my eyes 30 



yds. away ; I tried to raise my rifle slowly, but he spotted me at 



once and away he went ; a few minutes after when I saw my 



sheep 600 yds. away and opened fire, another flew out from 



under me, but far down the side of the canyon, is is a fearfully 



rough country, deep canyons, rock slides, and precipices. The 



old ram that I shot was the only good chance I had, and it was 



over 150 yds., running, when Ifired my first shot. Most of my 



shots were across deep canyons at 500 yds. or so, or else straight, 



up over head. In either case it was almost impossible to estimate 



the distance. If I had only had my .30 I should have had a gun 



that would shoot up to 300 yds. without moving a sight and 



with far more killing power than my Remington, which in future 



I shall keep for target practice. 



In the last three months I have bagged 5 deer, 2 goats, 3 



sheep and 2 prairie wolves. I could have killed far more deer 



if I had wanted to, also goats and ewes, for that matter. The 



ewes have much smaller horns than the rams. 



I have taken no less than 4 species o{ Aruicola here, which 

 with the 4 taken in the Chilliwack District makes 8 species of 

 Arvicola (or Microtus, as it is now called), and if the close allied 

 genera of Evotomys and Phenacoviys arc included, it brings the 

 total up to 10 or 11 species of Voles taken in the two localities- 



Lots of prairie chickens here now; they go in big packs and 

 are wild, getting up at long range with a great cackling and 

 sailing away a mile or more before settling again. 



We are having cold, snowy, windy weather here now, but I 

 have a garment that defies cold, viz. a Hudson Bay shirt, made 

 of heavy felt with knitted collar and cuffs like a jersey, and it is 

 put on in the same way. 



Vernon, B. C, Jan. 2, 1898, I am just back from another 

 trip to the " Big-horn " Mountain. My companion was a man 

 called Wilson, a very good fellow and the best guide for sheep 

 around here ; but, for all this, neither of us got a shot at sheep, 

 as they were on the steepest parts of the hillsides where our 

 snow shoes would not work. One splendid old ram seemed to 



