PTARMIGAN. 267 



world The sun was quite an hour high when my 

 companion awoke me, so far from refreshed that, 

 when I shouldered my load and started, I regretted 

 much that cruel fate forced upon me a long tramp, 

 to which I felt far from equal. 



During our march we flushed several couples of 

 ptarmigan as we crossed a high ridge of land that 

 was covered with stunted birch. These birds were so 

 excessively tame that their flights seldom exceeded a 

 hundred yards. Perched on a point of rock that stood 

 several feet over the level of the surrounding neigh- 

 bourhood, we came upon an old cock-bird, who, 

 although I hurled at him several stones, one of which 

 ricochetted within a few inches of his head, refused 

 to take wing till I had approached within half-a- 

 dozen yards. 



From the elevated ground which we traversed 

 to-day, the view was very extensive, for the vision 

 was not restricted by timber, which only here grows 

 luxuriantly where shelter from the biting wintry 

 blasts of the prevailing winds can be obtained. To the 

 northward lay a high range of hills, on whose sides 

 snow still was plentiful. Their outline was jagged 

 and irregular, indication of the stoniness of their 

 surface. Towards noon we descended again among 

 timber, the edges of which were cut up in every 

 direction by American reindeer, or cariboo tracks. 

 Never on a Scotch mountain had I seen sheep-paths 

 more abundant, but the producers of these runs 

 were doubtless far off to the north, where they 



