LETTER XL 127 



picked himself up, and with the rest dived down 

 below the crest of the bluff. The shots could 

 not have taken more than a few moments, but 

 as the smoke of the second shot still clung to 

 the Winchester's muzzle, Toma snatched it from 

 my hand and dashed off in pursuit. It was good 

 going over the down, but I could no more catch 

 Toma than he could catch my wounded ram. 

 This was unlucky, for as I stood to breathe on 

 the top of the cliff I saw the five pass in single 

 file across the face of it, about 150 feet below 

 me. Had I had my rifle I could have secured 

 my wounded beast and another. As it was, I 

 watched them out of sight, and then went to look 

 for my Indian. Bits of him strewed the hillside 

 here a coat, there a straw hat. By-and-by I 

 came upon him, with his head tied up in a 

 handkerchief, gazing down into a deep horseshoe- 

 shaped canon, of which the crags on which we 

 were formed a side. All round the cliffs rose 

 sheer and high, and right at the bottom was a 

 tiny prairie, through which a considerable stream 

 ran, rising in a small, brightly blue lake, gleaming 

 like a turquoise from among the burnt timber. 

 As we gazed we heard at intervals a dull hollow 

 shock echo up the gorge. ' Rams fighting,' whis- 

 pered Toma, and directed my gaze to the bottom 

 of the canon, where, by the brook, stood ten rams 



