SPORT IN THE GOLD RANGE 



thickets below. We attempted to descend the cliffs at this 

 spot, but were obliged to return to where we had seen the first 

 goats before we were able to reach the game-path below. While 

 cautiously crossing one particularly dangerous slide, Dell 

 pointed out to me the white mass of one of the dead goats 

 lodged against a tree-trunk far beneath us. 



The path that we were following led us over all kinds of 

 queer places, better suited for goat than man, and finally to a 

 sheer wall of rock which we thought for a few minutes had us 

 stalled. However, with the assistance of Dell, who was braced 

 below me, I managed to get my hands over the edge of the rocks, 

 and, securing a precarious foothold in a crack, gradually pulled 

 myself up until my knees rested on the ledge. Undisturbed 

 by the recent shooting, two large goats were lying down, 

 peacefully chewing the cud, 

 not ten feet distant. I cau- 

 tiously reached down for my 

 rifle, which the surprised Dell 

 passed up to me without a 

 word of comment. I care- 

 fully covered the chest of the 

 nearest one, and snapped the 

 hammer on an empty cham- 

 ber. I then remembered that 

 before descending into such 

 a dangerous place I had pru- 

 dently extracted the cartridge 

 which I usually carried in the 

 chamber of my rifle. At the 

 metallic click both goats rose 



to their feet, and one leisurely took several steps toward the 

 strange intruder. Then, as the rifle flashed twice, first one 

 and then the other collapsed and rolled out of sight. 



A quarter of an hour later I crawled over to where the goat 



247 



THE BEST OF THE MOUNTAIN - GOAT 

 HEADS 



