232 CAMP-FIRES IN THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



we finally succeeded in getting out, the old ram had 

 broken his way to a safe footing on the clififs of the oppo- 

 site side of the creek, where he stopped and looked back 

 at us. 



" But it was something awful the way that sheep 

 worked to get through that snow. It was six or eight 

 feet deep, and had a slight crust on top. He would leap 

 clear to the top of it, strike the crust with his breast and 

 send the pieces flying, forge forward a few feet, then sink 

 again out of sight only to bob up once more and try it 

 again." 



" So you lost him?" 



" Sure. But we caught an old nanny goat that was 

 sheltering in a cave, and hog-tied her without hurting 

 her. We were too exhausted to take her down that day, 

 so after spending the night very miserably by a little fire 

 under the clifif-wall near the mouth of the creek, we 

 climbed up the next morning only to find her dead. We 

 thought she died of old age, she was so very old and thin, 

 and almost toothless." 



Naturally, one tale of hardship brought forth another. 

 The mountains were full of them. The very creek upon 

 which we were camped had been the scene of a tragedy 

 in the early days. Seven white prospectors had gone in 

 somewhere very near to where we then were, camped, 

 and never were heard of more. Some think they were 

 killed by Indians; but they may all have been buried 

 under a great snow-slide. 



Some one told us of this lonesome tragedy: 



