150 CAMP-FIRES OF A NATURALIST. 



As the new-comer seemed to be looking directly at 

 him and as the sheep appeared to be moving around 

 as if about to leave, Dyche feared that he had been dis- 

 covered and that the band was preparing to make a 

 break for some other mountain. The second sheep, 

 however, lay down on the top of the rock, and the first 

 sentinel went below to feed with the rest of the band. 

 The naturalist pushed on, depending now on the move- 

 ments of the head of the reclining sheep. Between 

 one and two o'clock two more sheep made their ap- 

 pearance on the crag, and all three moved about, but 

 finally two of them went below, leaving one watcher 

 on the top. 



Worming his way along, he reached a small water- 

 worn gutter on the side of the slope. Crawling down 

 this until it joined a larger one, he made good head- 

 way up the slope until he reached the head of the 

 gutter. Fifty feet to his left was a string of low 

 bushes, and by edging, inch by inch, across the in- 

 tervening space, he soon had these for cover. Fifty 

 yards more would take him to the edge of the cove 

 where the band was feeding in fancied security. An 

 old scrubby evergreen bush and a few irregularities 

 in the ground afforded partial cover, and as Dyche 

 was weary of his hours of crawling, he made for the 

 bush with the hope of getting a little rest. By inches 

 he worked his way, and after five hours' crawling he 

 was at the edge of the cove, sheltered by a small 

 scrubby tree. 



Covering the crown of his cap with twigs from the 

 tree, he slowly lifted his head and peered into the 

 cove. In that single glimpse he felt repaid for all 



