Krag, the Kootenay Ram 



night, and up again in the morning. Sometimes 

 the trail was easy to follow, sometimes blotted 

 out by new-fallen snow. But day after day 

 they went. Sometimes Scotty was in sight of 

 the prize that he pertinaciously was hunting, 

 but never very near. The Ram seemed to have 

 learned that five hundred yards was the farthest 

 range of the rifle, and allowed the man to come 

 up to that, the safety limit. After a time it 

 seemed as though he much preferred to have 

 him there, for then he knew where he was. 

 One time Scotty stole a march, and would have 

 had a close shot had not the fateful West Wind 

 borne the taint, and Krag was warned in time ; 

 but this was in the first month of that dogged, 

 fearful following. After a while the Ram was 

 never out of sight. 



Why did he not fly far away, and baffle the 

 hunter by his speed ? Because he must feed. 

 The man had his dried venison and chocolate, 

 enough for many days; and when they were gone 

 he could shoot a hare or a grouse, hastily cook it, 

 and travel all day on that. But the Ram required 

 hours to seek the scanty grass under the snow. 

 The long pursuit was telling on him. His eyes 



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