THE FINAL HUNT FOR RAMS 239 



Hurrying down, I found a way to cross the gorge and 

 ascended to the saddle. All were standing six hundred 

 yards away, low down on the slopes of the mountain on 

 the crest of which I had travelled all day, and were 

 looking up in my direction. Returning through the 

 gorge, I again climbed to the connecting ridge, circled 

 around, and saw the rams travelling low on the slopes in 

 a northerly direction that from which I had come in 

 the morning. They passed out of sight around the end 

 of a spur half a mile ahead. I climbed to the crest, 

 reached the spur, and descended along its ridge almost 

 to the foot, before I saw them travelling well ahead, still 

 lower on the slopes. Looking back, some of them saw 

 me and all broke into a run, still keeping the same course. 

 I watched them through my field-glasses as they passed 

 over spur after spur for two miles, until, reaching the 

 foot of some high cliffs, they bunched and stood in 

 hiding. 



It required more than an hour to climb back again 

 to the crest, cross over the two pyramid peaks, and travel 

 along until I reached the spur at the foot of which I 

 thought they were hiding. Descending its acute ridge 

 for half a mile, I looked over and did not see them. A 

 succession of spurs projected out from the mountain, 

 and by that time I was utterly confused as to which one 

 sheltered the rams. I had taken landmarks, but from 

 the crest above could not recognize them. Again ascend- 

 ing to the crest and advancing to the next spur, I slowly 

 descended and looked over the cliffs at its foot. No 

 sheep were there. But looking across a wide canon, at 



