At St. Mary's 



ledge on the very tip-top of Kootenai, 

 were six beautiful clear-cut figures against 

 the sky. They were " big horns." They 

 had not seen us evidently ; but I shall 

 never understand how they missed the 

 gymnastics of that guide when he discov- 

 ered them and jumped for cover. 



Would they come down ? And, if they 

 came down, would they chance to ap- 

 proach us near enough for a shot ? Oh 

 that we were back in our old cover where 

 we commanded the approaches from above. 

 We felt we were out of luck indeed. For 

 hours and hours we patiently lie in a spe- 

 cially chosen spot and not a lamb appears ; 

 but within five minutes after we come out 

 of concealment to a place where we can 

 make no movement without being seen, 

 and near which the game is not likely to 

 approach — then, suddenly, the mountains 

 are covered with sheep. 



Yes, we seemed to be in hard luck. 



We waited. We were well concealed, 

 and near one of the many licks. Just pos- 

 sibly this would be the lick preferred by 

 our wary mutton. 



Finally a movement was noticeable 



among them, and then one of them began 



slowly descending the precipitous side of 



Kootenai. Another and another followed, 



290 



