198 ACROSS MONGOLIAN PLAINS 



than you can even with your foreign eyes. He is stand- 

 ing in that trail he may come right up to us." 



I tried again, following the thin, white line as it 

 wound from us along the side of the knifelike ridge. 

 Just where it vanished into space I saw the sheep, a 

 splendid ram, standing like a statue of gray-brown 

 granite and gazing squarely at us. He was fully half 

 a mile away, but the hunter had seen him the instant he 

 appeared. Without my glasses the animal was merely 

 a blur to me, but the marvelous eyes of the Mongol 

 could detect its every movement. 



"It is the same one we saw this morning," he said. 

 "I was sure we would find him over here. He has very 

 big horns much better than those others." 



That was quite true; but the others had given me a 

 shot and this ram, splendid as he was, seemed as un- 

 obtainable as the stars. For an hour we watched him. 

 Sometimes he would turn about to look across the ra- 

 vines on either side and once he came a dozen feet to- 

 ward us along the path. The hunter smoked quietly, 

 now and then looking through my glasses. "After a 

 while he will go to sleep," he said, "then we can shoot 

 him." 



I must confess that I had but little hope. The ram 

 seemed too splendid and much, much too far away. But 

 I could feast my eyes on his magnificent head and al- 

 most count the rings on his curling horns. 



A flock of red-legged partridges sailed across from 

 the opposite ridge, uttering their rapid-fire call and 

 alighted almost at our feet. Then each one seemed to 



