A7no7ig the High Hills. 109 



and at last reached a narrow terrace of rock and grass 

 along which we walked comparatively at our ease. Soon 

 it dwindled away, and we then had to do our only difficult 

 piece of climbing — a clamber for fifty or sixty feet across 

 a steep cliff shoulder. Some little niches and cracks in 

 the rock and a few projections and diminutive ledges on 

 its surface, barely enabled us to swarm across, with pains- 

 taking care — not merely to avoid alarming the game this 

 time, but also to avoid a slip which would have proved 

 fatal. Once across we came on a long, grassy shelf, lead- 

 ing round a shoulder into the cleft where the ram lay. As 

 I neared the end I crept forward on hands and knees, and 

 then crawled fiat, shoving the rifle ahead of me, until I 

 rounded the shoulder and peered into the rift. As my 

 eyes fell on the ram he sprang to his feet, with a clatter 

 of loose stones, and stood facing me, some sixty yards off, 

 his dark face and white muzzle brought out finely by the 

 battered, curved horns. I shot into his chest, hitting him 

 in the sticking place ; and after a few mad bounds he 

 tumbled headlong, and fell a very great distance, unfor- 

 tunately injuring one horn. 



When much hunted, bighorn become the wariest of 

 all American game, and their chase is then peculiarly 

 laborious and exciting. But where they have known 

 nothing of men, not having been molested by hunters, 

 they are exceedingly tame. Professor John Bache Mc- 

 Master informs me that in 1877 he penetrated to the 

 Uintah Mountains of Wyoming, which were then almost 

 unknown to hunters ; he found all the game very bold, 

 and the wild sheep in particular so unsuspicious that he 



