ON THE SHEEP RANGES 



we reached her she was dead, the .30 U. S. spitzer 

 having entered the side and traveled diagonally- 

 thru the body, emerging thru the shoulder, which 

 was badly mangled. 



It was then 4 o'clock and by 6:30 we had them 

 both measured, skinned and the available meat 

 sorted out. While skinning out the young ram 

 I noticed with interest the effect of the shot. 

 The bullet (spitzer hard-pointed 150 grain — same 

 as used on the ewe) had entered the shoulder 

 without breaking it, but pulverized the opposite 

 shoulder and all meat and bone within six inches 

 of the path of exit, for it went thru the animal. 

 When I saw the mess I remarked to Cap, "What 

 would that bullet have done to a bear?" "Par- 

 alyzed 'im," said he. 



While we both were conscious of a certain 

 satisfaction at the celerity of our accomplishment, 

 yet an ominous sky and sudden sprinkle of rain 

 boded an unpleasant return to camp, especially 

 as we were now not less than eleven miles from 

 that goal, over a most difficult route. 



Shouldering our bundles of meat, hides, guns 

 and cameras (some of which were tied by ropes 

 and straps that had been stowed away in our 

 pockets for such an emergency as this) we made 

 for the horses, a mile and a half down the gulch. 

 This consumed about two hours, finding us both 

 fairly wet and very warm at the end of the hike. 

 At the horses, Cap, thinking of the hides first, 

 wrapped them, against my vigorous protest, in 



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