CLIMBING FOR WHITE SHEEP 221 



derly to the edge for a look below. We were on a gentle 

 downward slope toward the east. As Bill crawled along 

 to get a better view of the lower ground between us and 

 the river bottom he took off his black felt hat and let his 

 long brown braids of hair fall over his shoulders. Slowly 

 he crept on hands and knees, stopping every few yards 

 to search the new ground revealed as he descended. 

 Then suddenly he crouched low, turned and beckoned to 

 me to follow him. 



From his side I looked down. About three hundred 

 yards below us, across a guUey, was a small troop of 

 sheep feeding on one of the httle green upland pastures 

 of fresh grass. They were unaware of our proximity and 

 we examined them carefully through our glasses without 

 giving alarm. There were eight ewes and eight rams. 

 Of the latter two were fully grown, with good horns, and 

 were perhaps eight or nine years old. The others were 

 younger, from two to five years of age, their horns run- 

 ning from short curving spikes to curves which did not 

 make a full turn when we looked at them from the side. 

 At least the two largest were well worth shooting, but 

 we could see no way of approaching them any closer. 

 The wind was blowing from them to us and we could not 

 go to the left and descend upon them from that side for 

 fear a sudden change in the air as it struck the face of 

 the rocks might give them our scent, nor could we come 

 to them from below the wind, for on our right the cliff 

 broke away steeply and there was no cover to conceal us. 



I suggested, ''If we sit here a half hour or so. Bill, 

 the sheep might feed up the hill toward us and give us a 

 chance." 



"Yes," said Bill, in his slow, noncommittal way, 

 "they usually feed up or down hill, or else they go round 

 to one side or the other." 



