THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 385 



struck him. His great, heavy, rolling horns loomed up 

 over the ledge as if they had been carved there from the 

 native granite. 



But I had no time to admire the picture. Quick as a 

 flash, the heel-plate of the rifle was at my shoulder; I saw 

 a momentary glimmer of a speck of gold between his eyes, 

 and instinctively my finger pressed the trigger. But as I 

 did so, I saw his head suddenly swing to the right, and I 

 knew I had missed him. He had seen enough of me, and 

 had sprung away in flight. But, quick as a flash of light- 

 ning, the lever has swung down and back to place! Click— 

 ock — click! The bright speck again gleamed on a fleeting 

 patch of gray hair— and bang ! The mountain breeze 

 quickly drove the smoke aside, but this did not enable me 

 to see the game. It was gone — hidden in the labyrinth of 

 junipers, jack-pines, firs, and rocks. I sprang out on an 

 overhanging ledge, and strained my eyes, peering into the 

 jungle. I could not yet see him, but could hear him. Now 

 he is down, and seems to be in the death-throes. Hear the 

 small rocks rattle away down the mountain-side— a perfect 

 shower of them! He has dislodged them in his struggles. 

 But hark! he is up again, and is making off. His progress- 

 is slow and difficult, and I can hear him fall every minute 

 or two. But he is getting away, diagonally down and along 

 the mountain-side. Look ! there is an open space, away 

 ahead, in the direction he is going. If he passes through 

 it, I may get another shot. Sure enough, there he is in the 

 edge of it, and nearly five hundred feet below me! He has 

 stopped; he reels, staggers, and seems ready to lie down; 

 but I will not risk it. I will give him another shot. Flash! 

 bang ! Now will you stop? Yes; he is down. But see! 

 there he goes again ! He is dead this time, though, and is 

 rolling, tumbling, heels over head, end over end, down the 

 almost perpendicular mountain-side. "Where on earth will 

 he stop ? Now he is out' of sight again in the thicket. 

 Crash ! thump ! rattle-te-bang ! he still goes. Now at last 

 the noise has ceased; but has he stopped, or is he so far 

 away that I can't hear it ? Shall I go down and see ? And 



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