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away at good speed but in excellent order, the 

 old ram leading the way. In scrambling up for 

 a farewell view, I disturbed a mountain lion. 

 He bounded among the scattered wreckage of 

 granite and vanished. Here was big game and 

 its well-fed pursuer, in the mountain heights, 

 above the limits of tree growth and almost three 

 miles above the surface of the sea. Many flocks 

 live at an altitude of twelve thousand feet. Here 

 the lambs are born, and from this place they all 

 make spring foraging excursions far down the 

 slopes into a warmer zone for green stuffs not 

 yet in season on the heights. Their warm cover- 

 ing of soft hair protects them from the coldest 

 blasts. Winter quarters appear to be chosen in 

 localities from which winds regularly sweep the 

 snow. This sweeping prevents the snow from 

 burying food beyond reach, and lessens the 

 danger of these short-legged mountaineers be- 

 coming snowbound. They commonly endure 

 wind-storms by crowding closely against the 

 lee side of a ledge. Now and then they are so 

 deeply drifted over with snow that many of the 

 weaker ones perish, unable to wallow out. The 



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