48 THE WILDERNESS OF THE UPPER YUKON 



ing, but I could not resist remaining to look for more 

 sheep and hoping perhaps to find the remainder of that 

 band of rams. Following a sheep-trail along the crest, 

 after a difficult and dangerous climb, I finally reached the 

 top of a high limestone peak. This was the last high 

 peak on the south range bordering the divide. Toward 

 the west the mountain sloped downward to vast meadows 

 bordering a creek running north-east. The slopes con- 

 tinued in great expanses of hills and rolling meadows, cut 

 here and there by deep canons; most of the country was 

 green; but all the exposed limestone glowed white in the 

 setting sun. Later in the season this broad area of green 

 pastures, canons, streams, and rivulets, must be a magnifi- 

 cent range for caribou, as earlier it must be a feeding- 

 ground for grizzly bears. This was demonstrated during 

 a subsequent tramp over it by innumerable tracks and 

 signs of both, and also by shed horns of caribou. Sheep- 

 trails crossed it, intersecting from all directions, always 

 along the higher ridges and knolls. All trails had worn 

 through the earth to the limestone, thus marking the 

 country with irregular white lines. 



For a long time I watched through the field-glass, but 

 nothing appeared. The sun went below the horizon, 

 leaving a brilliantly colored sky glowing over the distant 

 ranges toward the Tatonduk River. It was after ten 

 and, not wishing to lose the beauty of the landscape under 

 the twilight glow, I tramped hour after hour along the 

 crest of the range continuing all the way to the basin 

 south of camp. The ground-squirrels, marmots, conies, 

 birds, and even the mosquitoes were hushed, and a 



