Among the High Hills 127 



blanket, with the saddle for a pillow, and the oilskin 

 beneath. Manitou was munching the grass nearby. 

 I lay just outside the line of stiff black cedars ; the 

 night air was soft in my face; I gazed at the shining 

 and brilliant multitude of stars until my eyelids 

 closed. 



The chill breath which comes before dawn awak 

 ened me. It was still and dark. Through the 

 gloom I could indistinctly make out the loom of 

 the old horse, lying down. I was speedily ready, 

 and groped and stumbled slowly up the hill, and then 

 along its creast to a peak. Here I sat clown and 

 waited a quarter of an hour or so, until gray ap 

 peared in the east, and the dim light-streaks enabled 

 me to walk further. Before sunrise I was two miles 

 from camp; then I crawled cautiously to a high 

 ridge and, crouching behind it, scanned all the land 

 scape eagerly. In a few minutes a movement about 

 a third of a mile to the right, midway down a hill, 

 caught my eye. Another glance showed me three 

 white specks moving along the hillside. They were 

 the white rumps of three fine mountain sheep, on 

 their way to drink at a little alkaline pool in the 

 bottom of a deep, narrow valley. In a moment they 

 went out of sight round a bend of the valley; and I 

 rose and trotted briskly toward them, along the 

 ridge. There were two or three deep gullies to 

 cross, and a high shoulder over which to clamber; 

 so I was out of breath when I reached the bend be- 



