The Journal of a Sporting Nomad 
have managed this, the meat being frozen as 
solid as stone. Unfortunately, however, when 
I put it on board the steamer on my way to 
England, the butcher kept it on the ice, having 
no freezing chamber, with the result that the 
meat thawed out, and to avoid entire waste I 
had to have it cooked. It was served in the 
saloon one night for dinner, and was a novelty 
to many of the passengers, all of whom enjoyed 
their first taste of genuine wild mutton. 
I was not particularly keen now to remain out 
in the mountains much longer, for the cold was 
intense at night. The sheep seemed to have 
forsaken their haunts entirely, and we only 
obtained a few black-tail deer. Accordingly 
we returned once more to civilization, and I © 
made my way home to England. 
290 
