2 8o THE WILDERNESS OF THE UPPER YUKON 



were too far away to observe their color or sex. I reached 

 camp at dark when the air was crisp and frosty. 



September 15. Early in the morning I was high on 

 the slopes of Rose Mountain, and after reaching the crest 

 saw eleven ewes and lambs lying down two hundred 

 yards below me. A heavy snow blizzard suddenly de- 

 scended and lasted for an hour, while I sat sheltered from 

 the wind by a rock. The sky cleared as quickly as it had 

 darkened, and moving to a point where I could get a 

 good view of the sheep, I watched them. All were of 

 the same color as the sheep in the Pelly Mountains- 

 bodies and legs gray and necks and heads light or white. 

 They were browsing and one continued to rub her body 

 against a stiff willow. The lambs also browsed like the 

 ewes. 



Without molesting them, I climbed the peak and could 

 look across the Pelly and see both the Pelly and the 

 Glenlyon Mountains. The crest of Rose Mountain is 

 about five miles long and culminates at an altitude of 

 six thousand two hundred feet. The slopes are steep, 

 with a series of jutting crags extending far down, enclos- 

 ing troughs between them. These troughs are grassy, 

 and favorite feeding-places for sheep. 



By noting the more densely wooded character of the 

 slopes on the north side of the Pelly River east of Rose 

 Mountain, Dr. Dawson had inferred that this increased 

 growth was owing to greater humidity because of a prob- 

 able gap existing between the western end of the Pelly 

 range and the Glenlyons. This inference was correct, 

 for I could plainly see the gap, and Rose told me that 



