130 The Wilderness Hunter 



below rose the strangled roaring of the torrent, as 

 the foaming masses of green and white water 

 churned round the bowlders in the stream bed. Ex 

 cept this humming of the wild water, and the sough 

 ing of the pines, there was no sound. We were 

 sitting on a kind of jutting promontory of rock so 

 that we could scan the cliffs far and near. First I 

 took the glasses and scrutinized the ground almost 

 rod by rod, for nearly half an hour; then my com 

 panion took them in turn. It is very hard to make 

 out game, especially when lying down, and still; 

 and it is curious to notice how, after fruitlessly scan 

 ning a country through the glasses for a consider 

 able period, a herd of animals will suddenly appear 

 in the field of vision as if by magic. In this case, 

 while my companion held the glasses for the second 

 time, a slight motion caught his eye; and looking 

 attentively he made out, five or six hundred yards 

 distant, a mountain ram lying among some loose 

 rocks and small bushes at the head of a little grassy 

 cove or nook, in a shallow break between two walls 

 of the cliff. So well did the bluish gray of its 

 body harmonize in tint with the rocks and shrub 

 bery that it was some time before I could see it, 

 even when pointed out to me. 



The wind was favorable, and we at once drew 

 back and began a cautious stalk. It was impos 

 sible, owing to the nature of the cliffs above and 

 below the bighorn s resting-place, to get a shot save 



