The Wild Sheep of the Sierra. 287 



the Indians as " white buffaloes." And Lewis and Clark tell us that, 

 in a time of great scarcity on the head-waters of the Missouri, in 

 their journeys they saw plenty of wild sheep, but they were "too 

 shy to be shot." 



A few of the more energetic of the Pah Ute Indians hunt the wild 

 sheep every season among the more accessible of the California 

 Alps, in the neighborhood of passes, where, from having been pur- 

 sued, they have at length become extremely wary; but in the rugged 

 wilderness of peaks and canons, where the foaming tributaries of the 

 San Joaquin and King's rivers take their rise, they fear no hunter 

 save the wolf, and are more guileless and approachable than their 

 tame kindred. 



I have been greatly interested in studying their habits during the 

 last ten years, while engaged in the work of exploring those high 

 regions where they delight to roam. In the months of November 

 and December, and probably during a considerable portion of mid- 

 winter, they all flock together, male and female, old and young. I 

 once found a complete band of this kind numbering upward of fifty, 

 which, on being alarmed, went bounding away across a jagged lava- 

 bed at admirable speed, led by a majestic old ram, with the lambs 

 safe in the middle of the flock. 



In spring and summer, the full-grown rams form separate bands 

 of from three to twenty, and are usually found feeding along the edges 

 of glacier meadows, or resting among the castle-like crags of the 

 high summits ; and whether quietly feeding or scaling the wild cliffs 

 for pleasure, their noble forms and the power and beauty of their 

 movements never fail to strike the beholder with lively admiration. 



Their resting-place seems to be chosen with reference to sun- 

 shine and a wide outlook, and most of all to safety from the attacks 

 of wolves. Their feeding-grounds are among the most beautiful of 

 the wild gardens, bright with daisies, and gentians, and mats of pur- 

 ple bryanthus, lying hidden away on rocky headlands and canon 

 sides, where sunshine is abundant, or down in shady glacier valleys, 

 along the banks of the streams and lakes, where the plushy sod is 

 greenest. Here they feast all summer, the happy wanderers, per- 

 haps relishing the beauty as well as the taste of the lovely flora on 

 which they feed, however slow tame men may be to guess their 

 capacity beyond grass. 



