CHAPTER XIII 



HUNTING THE WILD GOAT 



SEVERAL centuries ago some one — perhaps 

 Cabrillo, perhaps Vizcaino or some other gal- 

 lant Spanish explorer, perhaps Junipero Serra, 

 the missionary, or some of his followers, or possibly 

 some one in the nineteenth century — Quien sabe? — 

 placed on the islands some goats. They increased 

 rapidly, changed a little, became shaggier and larger, 

 until to-day there are several thousand on San Cle- 

 mente and Santa Catalina and a few on Santa Rosa and 

 Santa Cruz. Being undisturbed they have in a large 

 measure reverted to the wild state. They are as wild 

 as the wild goats of Asia Minor or anywhere, wild 

 enough to afford good sport which the extraordinary 

 nature of the Island of San Clemente particularly 

 emphasizes. 



Our party in 1907 made its headquarters at How- 

 land's on the northwest coast, this harbor being the 

 best in summer, with a lee from the strong northwest 

 wind that rushes in and down the San Clemente Chan- 

 nel every day. The island is low at the northwest 

 end, but gradually rises. When we reached the cen- 

 tral portion one bright morning v/e came to the edge 

 of an extraordinary cafion which seemed to bisect the 

 entire island, but was in point of fact a vast crack or 

 wash in the lava. The descent into it was possible 

 only by one of the most extraordinary trails one often 



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