THE FINAL HUNT FOR RAMS 237 



ing upward, I looked over. Twenty-five rams were 

 below, some lying down facing in all directions, some 

 lazily feeding. They seemed to feel perfect security in 

 the secluded basin where probably during the whole 

 summer, they had lived undisturbed. All were dark in 

 color except three, which appeared almost white. Most 

 of them were five or six years old, but the darkest one, 

 then lying down, had particularly fine horns. Only two 

 of the others had large horns. I wanted that dark ram. 



The most noticeable feature of that band was the 

 appearance of their horns. All were amber-like, and 

 seemed almost transparent. The horns of the rams I 

 had previously seen behind the camp were in color almost 

 exactly like those of the Rocky Mountain sheep. Future 

 investigations enlightened me on these facts. The differ- 

 ences in color are due partly to the amount of rain which 

 washes them, and still more to the composition of the 

 soil and rocks among which they feed. Rams in the fly 

 season are continually striking their horns in the ground, 

 and at all seasons are poking them among rocks when 

 they feed, thus discoloring them in different degrees. 

 After heavy rains, horns always appear cleaner and more 

 yellow, and in winter they are much cleaner than at other 

 times of the year. 



There was no sentinel among these rams, unless the 

 three small ones, five hundred yards above, could be con- 

 sidered as serving that duty. In spite of the lazy comfort 

 which they seemed to be enjoying, I noticed that indi- 

 viduals kept up an alert watch in all directions, turning 

 their gaze up as well as down. While I was watching 



