ALONE ON A MOUNTAIN 153 



verdure. I could have counted every one of the toy 

 trees on that whole mountain side without moving from 

 my seat. It represented timber-line, for fair. 



But even there, in the Dream Mountains, the serpent 

 reared its head. When I sat down to enjoy the sceneries, 

 I saw those goats, ever so plainly; and the tempter whis- 

 pered, " It would be quite a feat to kill those goats, alone 

 and guideless, and carry in the heads of both. . . . Per- 

 haps one of them is larger than any one of the dead six! 

 . . . You have come far to reach this country, and with- 

 out a grizzly bear, which assuredly you will not get, 

 you will have only goats to show. A successful stalk, 

 under the rim of that mountain, would be very interest- 

 ing; and it would properly round out a glorious day." 



I listened to such as this until the iteration of it 

 became irritating, then I sprang up and climbed on in 

 the opposite direction. And then Vishnu, the goddess 

 of Preservation, brought me to a bunch of sooty grouse. 

 When the first bird exploded into the air, close beside 

 me, I was well startled. The bird flew about fifty feet 

 and alighted near its mates, thus giving me a good oppor- 

 tunity to see them on the ground, and note their actions. 



The story of a flock of fool-hens is like the annals of 

 the poor, short and simple. Each bird stalks about 

 stiffly, with head well up, gazing and gazing at the 

 intruder, in stupid wonder that is wondrously stupid. 

 With a shot-gun, there would be about as much excite- 

 ment in shooting one as there would be in killing a sloth 

 on the run. To a marksman who wants the birds for 

 food, there is some interest in shooting them through the 



