MOUNTAIN-GOAT HUNTING 



THE day after bringing the heads of the two rams I had 

 shot into camp, Howe and MacClusky started for a long 

 hunt on foot, leaving the rest of us to drive the pack-train 

 across the mountain into the next valley. Along the opposite 

 side of this cafion was the place where we had seen a great 

 many goats while hunting sheep the two previous days. When 

 we reached the top of the mountain I instructed the men to 

 take the pack-train to a camping-place agreed upon at the 

 head of the valley, and began to scan the black cliffs opposite 

 with the glasses. I was not long in locating two old billies on 

 a ledge at quite a distance, but low down on the wall of the 

 canon, with a comparatively easy approach from above. I 

 had not descended three hundred yards when I discovered an- 

 other billy about half a mile distant, but on the same side of 

 the cafion which I was following. I immediately began stalk- 

 ing this animal, which was lying down on an exposed shale 

 ridge. 



Half an hour later I crawled over a ledge of lava, and found 

 myself staring into the wondering, solemn visage of the goat, 

 which was lying in a depression in the rocks fifteen feet distant. 

 A shot in the chest brought it immediately to its feet. It 

 stood swaying unsteadily for a few moments, then toppled over 

 a near-by rim of rocks. The report of the carbine and the 

 rattling of dislodged rocks started up a second goat, which 

 had been dozing behind a bowlder several yards farther along 



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