vi MOUFFLON 159 



the best passes among the high crags, to which the 

 moufflon would be pretty sure to go when disturbed in 

 the woods below. Upon the morning in question we 

 had not been long waiting before we heard the deep 

 bay of one of the hounds, and in a moment or two 

 every crag and ragged gorge was echoing and re-echo- 

 ing in the clear, cool morning air with the sounds of 

 the merry chase that was going on so far beneath us. 

 The pass I was on commanded an enormous gorge, 

 from the sides of which ran out smaller gorges into' trie 

 iron sides of the granite hills. In the middle of this 

 jutted up a rounded rock, like some mighty citadel, 

 300 feet in height. After about five minutes of great 

 suspense, during which time I had been peering into 

 the depths below me, trying in vain, amongst the con- 

 fusion of the echoes, to catch a glimpse of either hounds 

 or moufflon not knowing at what moment a clatter of 

 hoofs might be followed by the sight of a moufflon 

 coming up my pass I caught a movement of some- 

 thing white on the rounded rock immediately opposite 

 me. Whipping up my telescope, which was lying 

 beside me, and directing it towards the spot, I descried 

 the most glorious old ram moufflon. At the distance 

 he looked almost black ; his saddle, which alone had 

 attracted my eye, as white as snow. When I first saw 

 him he was leisurely picking his way up a ledge on the 

 rock side, led by three old ewes, none of them appar- 

 ently caring very much for the hounds, who, in spite of 

 the severe nature of the ground, were in full tongue 

 within 200 yards of them. Two or three times they 

 went round the rock, evidently most unwilling to leave 

 it. Once or twice I saw the old ram, his head a little 

 on one side, hop up on some jagged peak, and stand 

 calmly watching the hounds as they clambered with 

 difficulty after them. How I longed for a chance at 



