ON THE SHEEP RANGES 



nestled in the hills that skirted that beautiful 

 summit, Mt. Natazhat. It was clear to us, how- 

 ever, that they might as well have been on top 

 of that mountain as where they were, for it would 

 have been an utter impossibility to successfully 

 stalk them. So we passed them up and climbed 

 over the hill toward the caribou barrens, at the 

 same time following the line of the Kletsan. 

 We had gone but a mile or two when we came 

 opposite the gulch adjoining the one in which we 

 had seen the sheep, so turning the glasses into 

 its upper reaches, we detected five sheep on a 

 mesa three miles up the gulch, and lost no time 

 in shuffling down thru the soft, silty soil to the 

 Kletsan, across it and up toward the game. 

 Tying the horses a mile and a half up the little 

 canon, we then proceeded on foot, part of the 

 time clinging to the walls and often walking the 

 stream bed to keep from sight. 



Finally we reached two of the little "guts" 

 leading up to the mesa, lying almost parallel. 

 I took one of these and Cap the other on the 

 plan that if one of us happened to miss arriving 

 at the right spot, the other might. I took up 

 the first of these and Cap the next one. We 

 knew the sheep couldn't be over 200 or 300 

 yards from where we stood when we started to 

 climb, so we had to be very careful. When I 

 reached a point near the summit of my climb I 

 happened to look Cap's way and saw him clam- 

 bering toward me over the ridge that lay between 



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