Watched By Wild Animals 
CHAPTER I 
THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GOAT 
S A flock of wild goats wound in and out 
among the crevasses and crossed the 
slender ice bridges of a glacier on Mount 
Rainier they appeared for all the world like a 
party of skillful mountain climbers. 
Not until I had studied them for a few seconds 
through my field glasses did I realize that they 
were goats. There were twenty-seven of them, 
nannies, billies, and kids, strung out in a crooked 
line, single file. Once safely across this glacier 
they lingered to look round. The kids played, 
the old goats had friendly bouts, and one or two 
couples scratched each other. After a delay of 
more than an hour they set off round the 
mountain and I followed. 
While crossing another ice slope they were 
suddenly subjected to a severe bombardment. 
A number of large rock fragments crashed down 
the steep slope, bounding, hurtling, and ripping 
I 
