TWO DIANAS IN ALASKA 243 



exist in my retina long after the magnificence had 

 paled and fled away. 



With the dawn came a silver mist of rain, light, 

 but most penetrating, and it was not possible to see 

 clearly for more than fifty yards ahead. We played 

 patience in more ways than one, and I understand 

 that there are some ninety ways of doing it. 



We were really anxious to bag a ram to fill our 

 larder, for we were trenching on the stores again. 

 The men were exceedingly anxious to be allowed to 

 try and shoot a ewe, as a native is permitted to do 

 at all times and seasons, but we managed to stave 

 the thing off by saying confidently that we hoped to 

 return from the next stalk with a quantity of meat. 



The following morning dawned bright and clear, 

 and it did not need our glasses to tell us that the 

 hillside opposite our camp was dotted with myriad 

 moving sheep. It was a "hen" party though, for 

 counting up to one hundred and ten we could not spot 

 a decent head among the number. 



We set off along our side of the river, Steve fol- 

 lowing in our wake, and commenced the ascent of the 

 canon, whose slopes were some 1,500 feet high, and 

 fairly sheer, in places really precipitous. At the 

 summit, crossing an undulating bit of plateau country 

 a fine ram got up from nowhere, and standing a 

 moment in terror-stricken amazement, actually bolted 

 straight towards us. At sixty paces off it pulled up 

 in a great slide, with fore-feet planted well together, 

 head slightly lowered, a formidable looking creature. 



Place aux dames, in our shoot, anyhow. 



