OH, SHOOT! 



fitted the mellow portions of our bodies over 

 the protuberances in the rocky floor and 

 turned our backs to the cold wind. We were 

 dry and dusty; our skins cracked; we grated 

 when we rubbed; there was sand in our gar- 

 ments and grit in our teeth, but Angel had 

 seen a flock of sheep crossing the valley at this 

 place not a week before, and we were content. 



"That gang on the boat will be sore when 

 we come back all worn out with sheep," Wilson 

 chattered. 



"Sure! When you go for game, you have 

 to work for it," I agreed. 



I snuggled closer to Wilson, and thereby 

 crowded him farther out into the arctic night 

 wind. Our cave was moulting. At our every 

 move, the low roof showered us with dirt ; but 

 we spat it out and agreed that sheep hunting 

 in this country was almost too enjoyable to 

 be interesting. 



There was a meeting of the Coyote Choral 

 Club about daylight ; so we got up, not greatly 

 fatigued by our night's rest, and were away at 

 sunup. Although we saw no sheep, it turned 

 out to be a most interesting day, for our sur- 

 roundings were unreal, and climate, geology, 

 vegetation were such as to shatter our precon- 



256 



