The White Sheep of Kenai Peninsula 



that it was the big ram. My only chance was to 

 take this long shot. We had been crossing a snow 

 bank at the time, and I settled myself, dug my 

 heels well in, and with elbows resting on my knees 

 took a steady aim. I was fortunate in judging the 

 correct distance, for at the report of the rifle the 

 big ram dropped, gave a few spasmodic kicks, and 

 the next minute came rolling down the mountain 

 side, tumbling over and over, and bringing with 

 him a great shower of broken rocks. I feared that 

 his head and horns would be ruined, but for- 

 tunately found them not only uninjured, but a most 

 beautiful trophy. The horns taped a good 34 

 inches along the curve and 13^ inches around the 

 butts. 



That night the weather changed, and thence- 

 forth the mountains were constantly enveloped in 

 mist, while it rained almost daily. These were 

 most difficult conditions under which to hunt, for 

 sheep have wonderful vision and can see a hunter 

 through the mist long before they can be seen. 



I was anxious to bring out as trophies only the 

 finest heads, and daily refused chances which some 

 might have gladly taken. If we could not plainly 

 see with the naked eye horns at 300 to 400 yards, 

 we always let the sheep pass, knowing that the 

 head was small, but if at any time we could make 



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