Among the High Hills. 107 



far aft of the shoulder, but ranging forward. He raced 

 after the others, but soon fell behind, and turned off on 

 his own line, at a walk, with drooping head. As he bled 

 freely I followed his tracks, found him, very sick, in a 

 washout a quarter of a mile beyond, and finished him with 

 another shot. After dressing him, and cutting off the 

 saddle 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 mid- 

 day. The mutton of a fat young mountain ram, at this 

 season of the year, is delicious. 



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 un- 

 til midday without 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 down- 



