A SHOT AT A MOUNTAIN SHEEP 183 



by which the horses scrambled to the top being around 

 a shoulder and out of sight of camp. 



While sitting close around the fire finishing break- 

 fast, and just as the first level sunbeams struck the top 

 of the plateau, we saw on this cliff crest something mov- 

 ing, and at first supposed it to be one of the horses which 

 had broken loose from its picket pin. Soon the thing, 

 whatever it was, raised its head, and we were all on our 

 feet in a moment, exclaiming that it was a deer or a 

 sheep. It was feeding in plain sight of us only about a 

 third of a mile distant, and the horses, as I afterward 

 found, were but a few rods beyond it on the plateau. The 

 instant I realized that it was game of some kind I seized 

 my rifle, buckled on my cartridge-belt, and slunk off tow- 

 ard the river bed. As soon as I was under the protection 

 of the line of cottonwoods, I trotted briskly toward the 

 cliff, and when I got up to where it impinged on the 

 river I ran a little to the left, and, selecting what I deemed 

 to be a favorable place, began to make the ascent. The 

 animal was on a grassy bench, some eight or ten feet be- 

 low the crest, when I last saw it; but it was evidently 

 moving hither and thither, sometimes on this bench and 

 sometimes on the crest itself, cropping the short grass 

 and browsing on the young shrubs. The cliff was divided 

 by several shoulders or ridges, there being hollows like 

 vertical gullies between them, and up one of these I 

 scrambled, using the utmost caution not to dislodge earth 

 or stones. Finally I reached the bench just below the sky- 

 line, and then, turning to the left, wriggled cautiously 

 along it, hat in hand. The cliff was so steep and bulged 



