22 WILD SHEEP. 



once they were across the ridge. As a matter of fact they descended 

 the shady slope about half way, and then stopped to feed. 



In less than half an hour we were peeping cautiously over one 

 of the side ridges at the unsuspecting animals. The big ram was 

 lying down, t\"]iile his ewes fed all round him. The other ram had 

 crossed the valley, and stood like a sentinel on a small spur of rock. 

 This rendered stalking quite impossible as each ram, kept watch, as 

 it were, for the other, and either taking alarm would warn the other. 



We decided to lie and wait for a change that would be more fav- 

 ourable, but after a most uncomfortable hour, during which we slowly 

 chilled down to numbness in the biting wind, there was no change 

 in the positions of our quarry, except that the sentinel across the 

 valley, had settled himself comfortably to enjoy his daily sun bath, 

 and several of the ewes had joined their lord, and lay quietly runu- 

 nating by his side. 



I did not care to risk a long shot, so finally decided to get nearer. 

 If onlj' I could cross a small coverless stretch at the bottom of tlie 

 main valley I could creep up to within easy range. In any case, if 

 the sheep took alarm, tmd moved off, they would probably offer me a 

 better chance of stalking them. I ci'ept slowly down to the grassy 

 stretch, which I tried to cross, but the moment I showed myself the 

 old ram rose to his feet, and started off to where the other ram kept 

 watch. This animal also took alarm, and before long every sheep 

 was out of sight in a side ravine on the nortli of the main valley. 

 I hurried to get to a favourable spot, but. before I could do so the 

 leading ram appeared on the next side ridge. Sinking down behind 

 a boulder, I waited till the herd rounded the shoulder into the next 

 side ravuie. Then I hurried up the slope, arriving at the shoulder 

 just in tiujo lo see tlie herd cross the main ridge. Now, however, 

 they seemed to have got over their fears once more, and were moving 

 slowly, gra/.iiig and playing with eacli other as they went. They 

 crossed a wide gentle slope, and entered another side ravine. This 

 time tliey did not rea|ipear till I was well within range, and gave n.e 

 the chance I sought. Drawing a bead upon the big ram, who stood 

 end on to me, I pressed the trigger. A spirt of dust rose from the 

 slope in flout of Ins nose. lie turne.l and dashed away, 

 followed by his herd of ewes, while I lay in the grass, 

 cursmg the eagerness, which had made me forget that my 

 rifle carried high at close range. All my care in stalking, had 

 gone for nothing; my patience in the cold north wind was wasted. 

 The day was far spent : there was nothmg to do but go home,— empty 



