American Big Game in its Haunts 



and even in the wildest storms, the sheep had 

 habitually gone down it to drink at the water be- 

 low. When we first saw them they were lying sun- 

 ning themselves on the edge of the cafion, where 

 the rolling grassy country behind it broke off into 

 the sheer descent. It was mid-afternoon and they 

 were under some pines. After a while they got up 

 and began to graze, and soon hopped unconcern- 

 edly down the side of the cliff until they were half 

 way to the bottom. They then grazed along the 

 sides, and spent some time licking at a place where 

 there was evidently a mineral deposit. Before 

 dark they all lay down again on a steeply inclined 

 jutting spur midway between the top and bottom 

 of the canon. 



Next morning I thought I would like to see 

 them close up, so I walked down three or four 

 miles below where the canon ended, crossed the 

 stream, and came up the other side until I got on 

 what was literally the stamping ground of the 

 sheep. Their tracks showed that they had spent 

 their time for many weeks, and probably for all the 

 winter, within a very narrow radius. For perhaps 

 a mile and a half, or two miles at the very outside, 

 they had wandered to and fro on the summit of 

 the caiion, making what was almost a well-beaten 

 path; always very near and usually on the edge of 



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