'^ifb 5oCa of (moun^atn!J^ummi^0 



There are miles of moorlands covered with short, 

 thin grasses, while deeply soil-covered terraces, 

 cozy slopes, and wet meadows have plushy grass 

 carpets several inches thick. These growths 

 form the basic food-supply of both the insects 

 and the warm-blooded life of the heights. 



These alpine pastures are the home of many 

 mountain sheep. Between Long's Peak and 

 Mt. Meeker there is a shattered shoulder of 

 granite that is fourteen thousand feet above sea- 

 level and at all times partly covered with an 

 ancient snow-field, the remains of a former gla- 

 cier. During earlier years I occasionally used the 

 sky-line by this snow-field for a view-point and 

 a lingering-place. One day after a long outlook, 

 I emerged from between two blocks of granite 

 and surprised a flock of mountain sheep near 

 by. A majority of them were lying comfortably 

 among the stones. One was nosing about, an- 

 other was scratching his side with his hind hoof, 

 while the patriarchal ram was poised on a huge 

 block of granite. He, too, was looking down 

 upon the world, but he was also scouting for 

 enemies. Upon my appearance, the flock broke 



