224 THE WILDERNESS OF THE UPPER YUKON 



whistle of a marmot made me shudder as I looked ahead 

 and saw a mother and three young, sitting on a rock at 

 the point where I was to turn off on the ridge. Twice 

 they whistled before I reached the rock, when the mother 

 plunged down in a hole at the foot, giving at the same 

 time a final, loud whistle. The young quickly followed 

 and I waited, fearing that the rams would appear run- 

 ning up the mountain-side. For a few moments all was 

 silence except the whistling of the wind around the rocks 

 and the faint roar of the cascades in the canons below. 



As I edged over on the ridge, other ground-squirrels 

 began to chatter, still more increasing my excitement. 

 Creeping on a steep slope just below the top, I slowly 

 advanced to a point which seemed to be opposite the 

 rams. The wind was then blowing without obstruction 

 directly toward them, and holding my rifle cocked, I 

 momentarily expected to see them dashing up in sight. 

 Not twenty feet beyond them the spur connection was 

 broken by a deep hollow, so that a few jumps upward 

 would take them out of sight, where they could descend 

 the slope and cross to the side of the mountain in safety. 

 Crawling forward on my stomach, inch by inch, I raised 

 my head and some distance to the left saw the lighter ram 

 with good horns, feeding downward a beautiful shot. 

 The other two were not in sight. Dropping back and 

 slowly worming along for fifty feet, I crawled forward 

 and was carefully raising my head, when I suddenly saw 

 the smallest ram, who was lying down on the opposite 

 slope of the saddle, looking directly at me. By the alert- 

 ness of his gaze I instantly recognized that, though un- 



