ALONE ON A MOUNTAIN 153 



verdure. I could have counted every one of the toy 

 trees on that whole mountain side without moving from 

 my seat. It represented timber-line, for fair. 



But even there, in the Dream Mountains, the serpent 

 reared its head. When I sat down to enjoy the sceneries, 

 I saw those goats, ever so plainly; and the tempter whis- 

 pered, " It would be quite a feat to kill those goats, alone 

 and guideless, and carry in the heads of both. . . . Per- 

 haps one of them is larger than any one of the dead six! 

 . . . You have come far to reach this country, and with- 

 out a grizzly bear, — which assuredly you will not get, — 

 you will have only goats to show. A successful stalk, 

 under the rim of that mountain, would be very interest- 

 mg; and it would properly round out a glorious day." 



I listened to such as this until the iteration of it 

 became irritating, then I sprang up and climbed on in 

 the opposite direction. And then Vishnu, the goddess 

 of Preservation, brought me to a bunch of sooty grouse. 

 When the first bird exploded into the air, close beside 

 me, I was well startled. The bird flew about fifty feet 

 and alighted near its mates, thus giving me a good oppor- 

 tunity to see them on the ground, and note their actions. 



The story of a flock of fool-hens is like the annals of 

 the poor, — short and simple. Each bird stalks about 

 stiffly, with head well up, gazing and gazing at the 

 intruder, in stupid wonder that is wondrously stupid. 

 With a shot-gun, there would be about as much excite- 

 ment in shooting one as there would be in killing a sloth 

 on the run. To a marksman who wants the birds for 

 food, there is some interest in shooting them through the 



