THE FINAL HUNT FOR RAMS 243 



cast, but the clouds were high and it did not rain. We 

 cut long willow staffs, climbed the mountain, and having 

 travelled for five and a half hours, reached the dead 

 rams. I had noticed on the crest the tracks of the fright- 

 ened band of sheep, which had followed it almost to the 

 end of the mountain before descending the west slope 

 and crossing the valley to a high mountain beyond, but 

 I did not see a sign of the wounded ram. 



From the spot where the first ram that had been shot 

 began to roll we descended just two thousand feet, ac- 

 cording to my barometer, before finding him among the 

 willows, almost at the foot. He was not badly bruised, 

 and had fine, large horns. After taking off the skin, we 

 went up to the big one, which had beautiful horns, shapely 

 and well curled. We took off his skin, and later that of the 

 light-colored ram, and brought them up to the crest. It 

 was then 9:30 in the night and a fine half-moon was 

 shining in a clear sky. The lakes gleamed below and 

 the distant peaks were suffused with a mysterious, shad- 

 owy light. There was more light than the night before, 

 and the descent was less hazardous, even though we were 

 burdened with awkward loads. The staffs were of great 

 assistance. Reaching the basin, we made tea, and later, 

 at 2.30 in the morning, arrived at camp. That day I 

 had seen a rough-legged hawk on the crest; and had 

 also heard conies the second time I had noticed them 

 during the trip. They were scarce in the Pelly Mountains. 



August 8. I rose at eight the next morning. The 

 pure mountain air had put me in such good physical con- 

 dition that I felt thoroughly refreshed even after the 



