io 4 A SPORTSMAN'S EDEN. 



LETTER IX. 



Bighorn Camp. 

 DEAR PAT, 



We had not been very successful until 

 the arrival of Mr. C.'s party ; in that C. was 

 perfectly well informed. The Scotchmen had, 

 I think, got one small sheep and a hind for 

 meat, whilst I had secured two stags, two small 

 rams, and a very fine old ewe, with horns almost 

 as big as a young ram's. 



But we had been learning our ground, and 

 were very bitter at being robbed of our reward. 

 There was not a ragged cliff whose face W. and 

 myself had not climbed, scrambling over moraines, 

 up dizzy little sheep-paths, on inclines which tried 

 the wind and wore out moccasins and indiarubber 

 soles at the rate of three pairs a week, and all 

 only to discover that the chief asylum of the 

 sheep was in the crags at the top, from which, 

 when disturbed, they descended and scattered 

 through the lower canons and through the 



