The Mountain Sheep 205 



or what number there were, I cannot remember 

 at all." Such are the actual words I wrote not 

 more than six hours later, and I am glad to 

 possess this searching record of that day and of 

 my bygone state of mind ; for with the best 

 honesty in the world no man can from memory 

 alone rebuild the minute edifice of truth that has 

 been covered by the heap of fifteen gathering 

 years. So I stood, crazy and inefficient, upon the 

 mountains, and after a little no more sheep were 

 there. A speck of conscious action remained 

 with me, namely, that during the passage of the 

 sheep I had held myself enough in control to get 

 " a bead " on the broadside of two successively ; 

 I remembered following them along for a moment 

 with my rifle before pulling the trigger. But 

 these I never saw again, and know not where I 

 hit them — if hit them I did. One trophy re- 

 mains to show for this day. A ram that had 

 been shot at some moment of the invasion re- 

 turned to the gulch where I was, and stood at a 

 short distance above me ; and then I succeeded 

 in placing one shot where I meant it to go. 



The visions of this band, as it scattered in twos 

 and threes after crossing my gulch, would incline 

 me to guess there must have been from fifteen to 



