82 SHORT STALKS 



ou the third chiy out from Washakie, we rode for a dozen 

 miles up one of the numerous forks, and camped in the 

 heart of the hills. 



Now, at least, we hoped to reap the first-fruits of our 

 long journey. In the morning we started in two directions 

 — Gerald with Dick, I with BoIj. Boiling with ardour as 

 I was, it was rather trying that my man, in a fit of obsti- 

 nacy, declined to follow me at a greater rate than a walk. 

 As our chief aspirations were for " big-horn " sheep, we 

 made for the top of a high ridge in front of us. But there 

 were no traces of them, at least, none of recent date, and 

 indeed at that time — 28th August — they must generally 

 be sought for much higher. Some few fresh traces of elk 

 were enough to raise my spirits, but I soon made up my 

 mind that deer-stalking on horseback was a mistake — or, 

 at least, that I did not like it. It was all very well when 

 game was " very plenty." Then, if you disturb nine-tenths 

 of it, it matters little. Enough remains. But, when it 

 becomes scarce and shy, the heavy tramp of a horse, and, 

 if in timber, the frequent crash of a dry snag, disturbs 

 everything for a mile in front. Of course if you want to 

 hunt at a distance from camp, it is well to ride out to your 

 ground. A good hunting horse, if the reins are thrown 

 over his head, will remain where he is left, or thereabouts, 

 and, while he (juietly grazes, will avoid entangling his feet 

 in them. As Bob always remained glued to his horse in 

 spite of my expostulations, I generally, after this, took 

 Dick, or stalked alone ; which, though I did not pretend to 

 their knowledge of woodcraft, is infinitely more interesting. 

 On the ]3resent occasion, too, I discarded further assistance, 

 and sending Bob Ijack with my horse, took a line of my own. 



