A GREAT DAY WITH GOATS 81 



and though not the highest, it was the dizziest point I 

 ever trod. Except when we looked ahead, we seemed 

 to be fairly suspended in mid-air! To look down under 

 one's elbow was to look into miles of dizzy, bottomless 

 space. 



The steep slope had led us up to the sharp point of 

 a crag that stuck up like the end of a man's thumb, and 

 terminated in a crest as sharp as the comb of a house- 

 roof. Directly in front, and also on the left, was a sheer 

 drop. From the right, the ragged edge of the wall ran 

 on up, to the base of Phillips Peak. Beyond our perch, 

 twelve feet away, there yawned a great basin-abyss, and 

 on beyond that rocky gulf rose a five-hundred-foot wall 

 at the base of the Peak. A little to the right of our posi- 

 tion another ragged pinnacle thrust its sharp apex a few 

 feet higher than ours, and eventually caused me much 

 trouble in securing my first shot. 



We reached the top of our crag, and peered over its 

 highest rocks just in time to see our two goats quietly 

 walk behind a ragged point of rock farther up the wall, 

 and disappear. They were only a hundred and fifty 

 yards distant; but they had not learned of our existence, 

 and were not in the least alarmed. Naturally, we ex- 

 pected them to saunter back into view, for we felt quite 

 sure they did not mean to climb down that wall to the 

 bottom of the basin. So we lay flat upon the slope, rifles 

 in hand, and waited, momentarily expecting the finish. 

 They were due to cross a grassy slope between two crags, 

 not more than forty feet wide, and if not fired at within 

 about ten seconds of their reappearance, they would be 



