248 Hunting Trips on the Prairie 



ness; the cold turns the ground into ringing iron; 

 and the icy blasts sweep through the clefts and over 

 the ridges with an angry fury even more terrible 

 than is the intense, death-like, silent heat of mid- 

 summer. But the mountain ram is alike proudly in- 

 different to the hottest summer sun and to the wild- 

 est winter storm. 



The lambs are brought forth late in May or early 

 in June. Like the antelope, the dam soon leads her 

 kids to join the herd, which may range in size from a 

 dozen to four or five times as many individuals, gen- 

 erally approaching nearer the former number. The 

 ewes, lambs, and yearling or two-year-old, rams go 

 together. The young but full-grown rams keep in 

 small parties of three or four, while the old fellows, 

 with monstrous heads, keep by themselves, except 

 when they join the ewes in the rutting season. At 

 this time they wage savage war with each other. 

 The horns of the old rams are always battered and 

 scarred from these butting contests which appear- 

 ance, by the way, has given rise to the ridiculous 

 idea that they are in the habit of jumping over 

 precipices and landing on their heads. 



Occasionally the big-horn come down into the 

 valleys or along the grassy slopes to feed, but this is 

 not often, and in such cases every member of the 

 band is always keeping the sharpest lookout, and at 

 the slightest alarm they beat a retreat to their broken 

 fastnesses. At night-time or in the early morning 

 they come down to drink at the small pools or 

 springs, but move off the instant they have satisfied 



