io6 The Wilderness Hunter. 



along the hillside. They were the white rumps of three 

 fine mountain sheep, on their way to drink at a little al- 

 kaline pool in the bottom of a deep, narrow valley. In a 

 moment they went out of sight round a bend of the val- 

 ley ; and I rose and trotted briskly towards them, along 

 the ridge. There were two or three deep gullies to cross, 

 and a high shoulder over which to clamber ; so I was out 

 of breath when I reached the bend beyond which they 

 had disappeared. Taking advantage of a scrawny sage 

 brush as cover I peeped over the edge, and at once saw 

 the sheep, three big young rams. They had finished 

 drinking and were standing beside the little mirey pool, 

 about three hundred yards distant. Slipping back I 

 dropped down into the bottom of the valley, where a nar- 

 row washout zigzagged from side to side, between straight 

 walls of clay. The pool was in the upper end of this 

 washout, under a cut bank. 



An indistinct game trail, evidently sometimes used by 

 both bighorn and blacktail, ran up this washout ; the 

 bottom was of clay so that I walked noiselessly ; and the 

 crookedness of the washout's course afforded ample secu- 

 rity against discovery by the sharp eyes of the quarry. In 

 a couple of minutes I stalked stealthily round the last 

 bend, my rifle cocked and at the ready, expecting to 

 see the rams by the pool. However, they had gone, and 

 the muddy water was settling in their deep hoof marks. 

 Running on I looked over the edge of the cut bank and 

 saw them slowly quartering up the hillside, cropping the 

 sparse tufts of coarse grass. I whistled, and as they 

 stood at gaze I put a bullet into the biggest, a little too 



