A PANORAMIC GRIZZLY-BEAR HUNT ayi 



I decided to take advantage of this brief interval, in 

 a still-hunt westward along the top of the ridge, in quest 

 of sheep, and without the loss of a moment I left Charlie 

 and set out. 



It was a lovely hunt, prosecuted in a most orthodox 

 manner, but it yielded nothing larger or more serious 

 than a big and prosperous yellow-haired porcupine. 

 Him I found in the green timber of the northern slope 

 about fifty feet down. I learned of him through his 

 querulous, whining talk. He said, " Uh! uh! uh! uh! 

 uh! uh! uh! " over and over, in the thin, high-pitched 

 nasal voice of a barn-yard hen who thinks she can sing 

 in the sun, and attempts to prove it. The note starts low 

 and faint, and increases in volume but not in pitch, until 

 it can be heard a hundred yards or more. The note struck 

 by that particular porcupine was the same as the third G 

 above middle C on a piano. 



After watching Erethizon epixanthus for a few min- 

 utes, I hastened on up the ridge, following the well-worn 

 game trail that leads along the summit. After a swiftly- 

 covered stretch of two miles I reached the peak and 

 precipice at the western end of the ridge, and briefly 

 viewed the great rocky basin in which the valley termi- 

 nates, against the sheer wall. Although I prospected 

 some fine sheep rocks, I saw neither sheep nor deer; but 

 a week later, when John and Mack stood in that same 

 spot, enveloped in clouds, they heard a band of sheep 

 walking over the slide-rock a few score feet below them, 

 but safely hidden from view. 



Having traversed the entire ridge, I wheeled about 



