FIFTH ANNUAL REPORT. 111 
looked over a low ridge, saw far ahead of him, on the upper edge of an 
extensive snow field, two sheep, and at their feet two tiny dark objects, 
which he knew must be two young ones. They were too far off to shoot 
at with any reasonable prospect of hitting them, and over the smooth white 
snow there was no possible means of approaching nearer without their 
taking the alarm. More in order to see what they would do than with 
any idea of hitting them, he guessed at the distance and fired a shot. 
“ The two old ones ran off, and were soon high up on the rocky ledges, 
looking back anxiously now and then, but always going higher and higher, 
but the very young ones remained where they had first been seen. Then 
it occurred to the hunter to see if he could catch one of them. He toiled 
along the snow and was soon close to the little lambs. One of them was 
lying down, but the other was on its feet, and seemed to regard the strange 
object that was approaching with some fear. John had no difficulty in 
placing his hands on the one that was lying down, but all his endeavors 
to get hold of the other were futile. It did not seem greatly alarmed, but 
was too shy to be touched. After tying the feet of the captive with his 
neckcloth, John made up his mind to attempt to run down the little tot- 
tering creature, hardly larger than a rat, which insisted on keeping just 
out of his grasp; but, run as fast as he might, the lamb avoided him, and 
presently, when it got among the rocks, it showed such activity that John, 
in despair, gave up the pursuit, and returning to his starting-point, took up 
the captive lamb and started for camp. 
“John was sufficiently interested in the matter to go back over the 
tracks of the sheep, and he satisfied himself that these lambs had been born 
either that morning or the preceding night. On both the little ones the 
umbilical cord was soft and dragging. The tracks that he had been fol- 
lowing, and which had been made the night before, were those of the two 
mother sheep, whose little ones had not then been born. 
“The little sheep was reared on cow’s milk diluted with water, and 
was weaned about September Ist. In nature the lambs suck up to No- 
vember Ist, but not much after that. John told me that the sheep ate “ any- 
thing,’ but on questioning him more closely I learned that after she was 
weaned her main dependence was the dry prairie grass, although she was 
fed with moré or less regularity at the house on bread, crackers, oats, the ~ 
peelings of boiled potatoes, and the uncooked scrapings of dough from 
the pan in which the bread was mixed.” 
The animal referred to above, and shown herewith, was as 
docile and affectionate as any domestic lamb, except that she 
greatly disliked dogs. She sometimes became tired of the con- 
finement of her paddock, and on several occasions was mysteri- 
ously found on the outside of her wire fence. For some time 
we were puzzled to know how she so easily scaled an eight-foot 
fence. We presently discovered that she escaped by leaping up 
to the edge of a cross bar, two inches wide and four feet from 
the ground, from which, as a ledge, she easily sprang to the 
