132 THE WILDERNESS OF THE UPPER YUKON 



circling. The other had ceased for some time when I 

 heard him around the hill behind me to the left. After 

 awhile both ceased, and I knew that they had received 

 my wind. 



It was then dark at six, and after passing through a 

 fringe of timber, I slowly and carefully climbed the steep 

 slope of the mountain in the light of a brilliant full moon. 

 Reaching the top, I walked for three miles through the 

 snow-fields on the edge of the crest. Below were white 

 meadows dotted with frozen ponds and little lakes, their 

 ice sheets dimly reflecting the bold, rugged mountains, 

 which appeared sombre white above the deep shadows 

 on the slopes, while the lofty outlines of the sharp peaks 

 behind stood out like huge sentinels in the pale, clear 

 sky. All the snow-fields sparkled golden under the mel- 

 low rays, while the dark timber area below on the other 

 side, filled with glittering lakes, made a mysterious con- 

 trast to the peaks across the river peaks softly glowing 

 and almost yellow in the strange effect of distant moon- 

 light. There was not a sound to break the weird, gentle 

 beauty of the scene. It was a crowning effect of that 

 stern, sublime wilderness, then so calm and peaceful, 

 overspread by the radiance of the moon. I walked 

 slowly, and descended on the sheep-trail to camp, where 

 the fire was breathing its sparks up into the cold, clear 

 air. Selous had not seen a moose, but at the last moment 

 had observed a small band of ewes on the mountains near 

 Clearwater draw and had killed an old ewe of the whitest 

 color of the sheep in that locality. With great generosity 

 he later gave the skin and skull to the Biological Survey, 



