1 52 AFTER WILT) SHEEP IN THE ALTAI 



slowly up the opposite slopes. Neither Taba nor I 

 could distinguish the size of their horns, nor estimate 

 at that distance the feasibility of a stalk. We 

 decided, however, unanimously to try our fortune, 

 and started downhill without delay, neither of us 

 knowing anything- about the ground, and trusting in 

 Providence to get safely back to camp. Taba led 

 the way over the rocks and loose shingle, and though 

 we went at a good pace we took over an hour to 

 reach the bottom of the valley. 



My companion's primitive leather mocassins scored 

 off my best nailed shooting boots on these stones, and 

 after many a fall I finally found myself in the bed of a 

 dried-up stream. Taba's movements and wonderful 

 agility struck me here for the first time ; he would jump 

 from one rock to another, alight on a sharp edge, 

 stand motionless for some time where a Chamois would 

 hesitate, performing marvellous feats of equilibrium. 

 The force of gravitation seemed to have no effect 

 on him, and I found it a difficult job to follow him 

 over the steep, broken ground. 



Another half- hour brought us to a ridge within 

 400 yards of the sheep, and my disappointment was 

 great when I saw before me eight rams, all four or 

 five years old, but not one of them worth a shot. 



"Kitchinek" (" small "), whispered Taba. " Yes," 



