Among the High Hills 129 



ter of a mile beyond, and finished him with another 

 shot. After dressing him, and cutting off the sad- 

 dle and hams, as well as the head, I walked back to 

 camp, breakfasted, and rode Manitou to where the 

 sheep lay. Packing it securely behind the saddle, 

 and shifting the blanket roll to in front of the saddle- 

 horn, I led the horse until we were clear of the Bad 

 Lands ; then mounted him, and was back at the ranch 

 soon after midday. The mutton of a fat young 

 mountain ram, at this season of the year, is deli- 

 cious. 



Such quick success is rare in hunting sheep. Gen- 

 erally each head has cost me several days of hard, 

 faithful work; and more than once I have hunted 

 over a week without any reward whatsoever. But 

 the quarry is so noble that the ultimate triumph 

 sure to come, if the hunter will but persevere long 

 enough atones for all previous toil and failure. 



Once a lucky stalk and shot at a bighorn was 

 almost all that redeemed a hunt in the Rockies from 

 failure. I was high among the mountains at the 

 time, but was dogged by ill luck; I had seen but 

 little, and I had not shot very well. One morning I 

 rose early, and hunted steadily until midday with- 

 out seeing anything. A mountain hunter was with 

 me. At noon we sat down to rest, and look over the 

 country, from behind a shield of dwarf evergreens 

 on the brink of a mighty chasm. The rocks fell 

 downward in huge cliffs, stern and barren ; from far 



