112 ADVENTURES OF DR. ALLEN. 



I was convinced that the cougars had been in reach of 

 game, had separated, and were now calling to each other, 

 so J went in pursuit of the first one. I passed through some 

 timber, where it was dark as Egypt, my feet sinking deep 

 in the soft vegetation and decayed pine cones. The awful 

 silence was painful and seemed like a dream of the infernal 

 regions. I pushed along a game trail, hoping to reach the 

 upper rimrock. After going half-a-mile, I could observe I 

 was nearing the ridge as light began to dawn. Jutting out 

 into a pretty park was a splendid reef of gray sandstone 

 about fifteen feet high, over which I could see the tops of 

 pines in the park. 



The songs of birds sounded on the morning air, and 

 the little chipmunks and cottontails (lepus sylvaticus), also 

 called Molly cottontail), skipped about, while the "camp-rob- 

 bers," or mountain jays, were plucking the sweet pine-nuts 

 from cones that hung low in great abundance. Some fool- 

 hens were slowly sauntering along, scarcely leaving the trail 

 as I passed. I had almost gained a break in the rimrock 

 when I caught sight of a monster bighorn sheep (ovis or 

 caprovis montana). He was not feeding, and seemed very 

 uneasy. Soon I saw him bound up on a ledge of rocks, 

 stand like a gladiator, whirl, and with head lowered, bound 

 at something below. 



My heart was steady, and I crept along as fast as the 

 nature of the ground would permit. He had disappeared. 

 No ; for in a moment the bighorn reappeared on the scene, 

 and stood gazing first above and then below him. I pressed 

 the butt of the rifle to my shoulder and ran my eye along 

 'the barrel. Then I lowered it, certain that something of 

 interest would soon transpire. 



He stepped forward. His great brown eyes were 

 riveted on some object on the rocks above him. Then he 



