ON THE SHEEP RANGES 



and by Cap and me in the other. It was planned 

 that Unit No. i, composed of the afore-men- 

 tioned hunters, should split at a convenient 

 point on Figgins Mountain, thereby giving them 

 the advantage of surrounding the helpless game 

 and getting at one fell swoop what was desired 

 for our museum and other museums yet unborn. 

 This was to be a red-letter day to make up for 

 the first fluke pulled off on this summit a few 

 days previously. Cap and I, with colors flying 

 and spirits simply effervescing with anticipation 

 at what an awful calamity would befall the in- 

 nocent victims of Figgins Mountain on this day, 

 marched gloriously toward the opposite side of 

 the hill from that for which our companions were 

 destined. As we all crossed the boundary after 

 fording the White, our hunting today was in 

 Yukon Territory. 



After separating from our companions Cap 

 and I followed the old Boundary Survey trail 

 until we reached the draw up which we had de- 

 cided to travel. Up to this point the going was 

 miserable — the "nigger-heads," hummocks and 

 swampy ground making it very difficult and ner- 

 vous work for the horses. While we were slowly 

 riding up the draw leading thru the foothills of 

 our mountain Cap suddenly stopped and waved 

 me back. "Sheep!" he exclaimed, dismounting 

 and leading his horse behind a protecting ridge. 

 The glasses showed that his guess was correct, 

 for a half mile away and 1,000 feet above was 



in 



