220 HUNTING IN THE ARCTIC 



"I guess," said Bill, as we struggled through the 

 alders and devil's club, "that Potter and the Colonel 

 thought they would get up to the top of this first bench 

 in spite of every obstacle just to have a look around, for 

 they went for it as straight as an arrow." 



Finally we scrambled to the top of the steepest place 

 and saw that we had but begun the real ascent. 



Through cottonwood groves, willow patches and 

 alders we made our way up another steep slope to the 

 crest of the second row of benches, and from here we saw 

 that what had appeared to us in the bottom of the valley 

 to be the tops of the mountains was really but the sky- 

 hne of the edge of their lower foothills. Still higher 

 above us soared the snow-covered peaks and far to the 

 eastward at the head of the valley the loftier mountain- 

 ous backbone of the peninsula clad with its coating of 

 perpetual ice. 



A few sheep were grazing on the steep slopes above 

 us, but there were no rams with large horns, so we pro- 

 ceeded eastward toward the head of the valley, keeping 

 a sharp lookout in front and below us. Down and up, 

 down and up we picked what seemed to be the most prac- 

 ticable route over the inequaUties of the hillsides. We 

 were just below the snow line, although a Hght fall of the 

 night before had put a covering of ghttering crystals on 

 the grass underfoot. For some distance we made our 

 way from ridge to ridge, peering carefully over each sky- 

 line to surprise any game, but there was no sign of life. 



Then of a sudden we came upon the sheep. 



We were walking down a slope toward the bottom 

 between it and a jagged sky-line, when Bill saw one of 

 the animals disappear over the next ridge. Carefully we 

 climbed up the rocky bank to the top, and Bill went ten- 



