American Big Game in its Haunts 



shooting until the third of September, but that day 

 opened bright and clear, and fearing lest the good 

 conditions might not last, we made an early start. 

 Crossing the high plateau we followed the valley 

 of the .Killy River, keeping well up and skirting 

 the bases of the mountain summits. As we trudged 

 along, the shrill cries of alarm of the whistling 

 marmots were heard, and the little fellows could 

 be seen in all directions scampering for their holes. 

 Ptarmigan were also frequently met with, but not 

 in such great numbers as one would have supposed 

 in a region where they had never been hunted. On 

 several occasions we found these birds on the 

 highest summits where there was nothing but rocks 

 covered with black moss. It would have been in- 

 teresting to have shot one of them and learned 

 upon what they were then feeding, but it was just 

 in the locality where we hoped to find rams, and 

 this was out of the question. That morning we 

 traveled some distance before we saw sheep, but 

 having once reached their feeding ground I had 

 the satisfaction of watching more wild game than 

 on any previous day. 



The Kussiloff hills were dotted with scattered 

 bands, and I counted in one large flock forty-eight, 

 while the long and narrow valley on both sides of 

 the stream was sprinkled with smaller bunches con- 



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