198 The Mountain Sbeep 



elk that one of us shot at sundown made no 

 atonement for our melancholy farce. My diary 

 concludes, "So ended Thursday, August 30, a 

 most instructive day, full of weather, wind, and 

 experience." 



By breakfast we were bearing up a little, mak- 

 ing much of the fact that, after all, the sheep we 

 had seen were only ewes and lambs. This would 

 not have caused us to spare them, to be sure ; we 

 were out of fresh meat when we saw them ; and 

 though the head and horns of a ewe do not make 

 a noble trophy for the sportsman, they represent 

 hard work, and are decidedly better than nothing 

 at all when you are a beginner, and hungry. 



We took another course, making for moun- 

 tains on the side of the valley opposite from 

 yesterday's route. My Indian was not hopeful. 

 " Too much shoot," he remarked. " Run away." 

 But presently we passed very fresh tracks, and 

 began one of those ascents where you are continu- 

 ally sure that the next top is the real top. We 

 had come looking for the sheep at a season when 

 he is living mostly upon the roof of his house. 

 He, with the goat, inhabits, it may be fairly 

 said, the tallest mansion of all our ruminants ; 

 indeed, you may put the whole case thus: 



