CLIMBING FOR WHITE SHEEP 219 



between 4,000 and 4,500 feet around the valley on both 

 sides. Below us the ground showed rusty brown; green 

 where little patches of pasturage were tucked away in 

 the swales. On the hillside back of us a Httle troop of 

 sheep, females and young, were nibbling at the green 

 grass four or five hundred yards distant, and a prolonged 

 scrutiny of the landscape through our glasses revealed 

 altogether sixteen of the beautiful white animals on our 

 side of the river. On the opposite slopes, across the 

 river, however, from one to two miles distant, forty- 

 eight more appeared as we watched the tiny patches of 

 white until they moved or otherwise convinced us of 

 their identity. This was not so bad — sixty-four sheep 

 seen in the first afternoon — so we went back to the cabin 

 in high spirits. At the creek, on the banks of which the 

 house was built, Steve's old sluice boxes were lying 

 around, for he had numerous mining claims here. We 

 sent Fritz to Benjamin Creek again to get more car- 

 tridges for the gun and a few other trifles and Bill and 

 I started for our first serious day's hunting on the 

 opposite side of the river from the cabin. 



''I think there's an old trail made there last year by 

 Wilson Potter," said Bill, "used by him when he was 

 hunting the other side of the valley. He killed three 

 sheep on the hill opposite to the cabin." 



Accordingly we started off early in the morning of 

 our second day at Steve's cabin, crossed the river on our 

 foot logs, and soon found the cuttings and blazes on the 

 trees which marked the trail of a year ago. It led at 

 right angles to the river straight up a httle hill over the 

 brow of which nestled the two lakes we had passed in 

 coming up to this point, crossed a httle swamp to 

 another small rise, and then went straight up the steepest 

 part of the hill to the top of the first row of benches. 



