210 THE WILDERNESS OF THE UPPER YUKON 



pered away. Several Alaska jays flew about me and sat 

 in the trees near-by, evidently waiting for some of the spoils 

 that human beings usually provide for them. 



At two in the afternoon, all the sheep slowly fed over 

 the top of the spur and were lost to sight. At once I 

 began to follow the plan worked out while waiting, and 

 started to make the ascent of a high promontory pro- 

 truding from a mountain opposite the spur and separated 

 from it by a deep canon, the head of which I might be 

 able to climb around, and, if possible, cross the face of 

 the spur and stalk the sheep if they should be feeding 

 on the other side. In an hour I had ascended far 

 enough to see that the ground at the head of the canon 

 was too precipitous to traverse. The only alternative 

 was to find a way to the bottom of the canon and ascend 

 the slope of the spur to the two peaks. This involved 

 great risk of frightening the sheep, for if they should be 

 feeding on the other side near the top, now and then, 

 according to their habits, one or another would probably 

 come back to inspect the opposite side, in which case I 

 would surely be observed. But knowing that the next 

 day they might be far away, I decided to take the chance, 

 and after much difficulty reached the bottom of the canon 

 and climbed up a notch in the opposite wall to some 

 willows through which, in half an hour, I had fought my 

 way, reaching a smooth, grassy slope that led steeply 

 upward between the peaks. No sheep had re-appeared 

 above, so I began to ascend slowly and cautiously, know- 

 ing that at any moment a ram might suddenly appear 

 on the summit and see me if I was moving. 



