THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT. 349 



On the morning of the 26th of May, I gathered together 

 my camping- outfit, which is always of the most modest 

 description, consisting of blankets, grub, cooking-utensils, 

 and a 44 Winchester, and procuring a couple of Indians 

 and a canoe, started for the head of the north arm. A 

 fair breeze was blowing; we hoisted sail, and our beauti- 

 fully modeled chinook canoe skimmed over the water like 

 a bird. After a four-hours' run we reached our destination, 

 and pitched our camp on the banks of a beautiful stream at 

 the head of the inlet. 



It was early in the season, and we expected to find the 

 game without much climbing. The plan proposed by the 

 Indian was to simply paddle up and down the stream, 

 keeping a sharp lookout on the sides of the mountains 

 which hem in the canon. Sure enough, we had not pro- 

 ceeded far from camp when the old Indian pointed up the 

 mountain with his paddle, and said, " Sheep." 



I had with me a good field- glass, which I at once brought 

 to bear on the spot pointed out by the Indian. It was an 

 open, grassy place on the side of the mountain, down the 

 center of which a brook coursed its way, emptying into the 

 creek nearly opposite where we were standing. Among the 

 disjointed rocks, well up on the side of the canon -wall, 

 were three shaggy, white-coated animals. A council of war 

 was held, and an attack immediately decided upon. The 

 ascent of the mountain was comparatively easy, being 

 along the course of the stream until we neared the grassy 

 opening, when we had to make a long circuit to the left, in 

 order to keep under cover of the timber. The traveling 

 then became difficult, on account of the great number of 

 fallen trees and the immense growth of a species of 

 umbrella-plant, locally known as "devil's walking-stick;'' 

 and woe to the hand which clutches one of these sticks 

 for a friendly support ! 



We at last reached the level on which the grassy spot 

 was situated, toward which, still picking our footsteps, and 

 guarding against the slightest snap of a twig, we kept on. 

 Fortune seemed to favor us, for right in front, and shutting 



