296 The IVild Sheep of the Sierra. 



pines. In the distance were lofty peaks dipping into the azure, and 

 in the middle-ground was the snowy fall, the voice and soul of the 

 landscape ; fringing bushes beating time to its thunder-tones, the 

 brave sheep in front of it ; their gray forms slightly obscured in the 

 spray, yet standing out in good heavy relief against the close white 

 water, — their huge horns rising and curving in the midst like the 

 upturned roots of dead pine-trees, while the evening sunbeams 

 streaming up the canon gilded and glorified all. After crossing the 

 river, the dauntless climbers, led on by their chief, at once began to 

 scale the canon wall, turning now right, now left, in long, single 

 file, keeping well apart out of one another's way, and leaping in 

 regular succession from crag to crag, now ascending slippery dome- 

 curves, now walking leisurely along the edges of precipices, stop- 

 ping, at times, to gaze down at me from some flat-toppec] rock, with 

 heads held aslant, as if curious to learn what I thought about it, or 

 whether I was likely to follow them. After reaching the top of the 

 wall, which, at this place, is somewhere between one thousand five 

 hundred and two thousand feet high, they were still visible against 

 the sky as they lingered, looking down in groups of two or three, 

 giving rare animation to the wilderness. 



Throughout the entire ascent they did not make a single awkward 

 step, or an unsuccessful effort of any kind. I have frequently seen 

 tame sheep in mountains jump upon a sloping rock-surface, hold on 

 tremulously a few seconds, and fall back baffled and irresolute. But 

 in the most trying situations, where the slightest want or inaccuracy 

 would have resulted in destruction, these always seemed to move in 

 comfortable reliance on their strength and skill, the limits of which 

 they never appeared to know. Moreover, each, one of the flock, 

 while following the guidance of the most experienced, yet climbed 

 with intelligent independence as a perfect individual, capable of sep- 

 arate existence whenever it should wish or be compelled to withdraw 

 from the little clan. The domestic sheep, on the contrary, is only a 

 fraction of an animal, a whole flock being required to form an indi- 

 vidual, just as numerous florets are required to make one complete 

 sunflower. 



Those shepherds who, in summer, drive their flocks to the mount- 

 ain pastures, and, while watching them night and day, have seen 

 them torn to pieces by bears, disintegrated by storms, and scattered 



