RANCH LIFE AND THE HUNTING-TRAIL 



Our American mountain sheep usually go in bands of from fifteen to 

 thirty individuals, occasionally of many more ; while often small parties of 

 two or three will stay by themselves. In the winter, or sometimes not 

 until the early spring, the old rams separate. The oldest and finest are 

 often found entirely alone, retiring to the most inaccessible solitudes ; the 

 younger ones keep in little flocks of perhaps half a dozen or so. The 

 main band then consists only of the ewes, the yearlings, and now and 

 then a two-year-old ; and this also is soon broken up, leaving merely the 

 yearlings and the barren ewes, for about the middle of May the ewes that 

 are heavy with young leave the rest, each by herself. Like the old rams, 

 they now seek the most inaccessible and far-off places high up the 

 mountains, if possible ; otherwise, in the barren and unfrequented portions 

 of the Bad Lands, where the steep hills and abrupt valleys are twisted 

 into a mere tangle of precipitous crests and canons. Here the ewe 

 makes her lying-in bed oval in shape, like that of a prong-horn or 

 black-tail doe, but made by pawing out, or perhaps merely wearing out, 

 a slight hollow in the bare soil ; whereas the doe crushes down with her 

 weight the long grass of the prairie or thicket. This bed is usually made 

 on the ledge of a cliff, on the side where there is most shelter from the 

 prevailing winds ; perhaps it is beneath a great rock or clay bowlder, 

 with not so much as a blade of grass around, or it may be partly screened 

 by a few wind-beaten sage-bushes. Generally only one, but sometimes 

 two, young are brought forth at a birth. The young lamb matches his 

 surroundings wonderfully in color, and the ewe is very careful in going to 

 him to be sure that she is unobserved. For the first day or two the lamb 

 trusts for his safety solely to not being seen by the beasts and birds of 

 prey. He crouches flat down, like an antelope fawn, and it is next to 

 impossible for human eyes to discover him save by accident. Once only 

 I stumbled across a newly born lamb. It was about the first of June, and 

 I found him lying by the bed of the mother as I was going along a ledge, 

 scantily covered with sage brush, in the heart of some high, wild hills, 

 about fifteen miles from my ranch. The little fellow was too young to 

 show much alarm when I handled and petted him and with much diffi- 

 culty persuaded him to stand up on his helplessly weak and awkward 

 little legs. The mother was about two hundred yards distant, and was 

 greatly frightened when I drew near her offspring ; she hung about in 

 the distance for a short time and then dashed off. However, she must 

 have returned when I left; for two or three days later, when from curi- 

 osity I came back, the little fellow was gone. 



When the young are able to clamber about for short distances almost 



