A DAY IN THE ROCKIES. 43 
Finally we reached the smaller ridge, 
and struck off to our left, toward the high- 
est point of Shaveno. We staid within 
touch of each other to lessen the danger 
of rock slides. Several times I grew dizzy 
an effect of the rare air, but I said nothing 
of it until the Doctor admitted that he, 
too, was dizzy. It was cold, and the wind 
was blowing a hurricane. We sat down 
on a sheltered rock-to rest, and at that in- 
stant Ed said in a tremulous voice, “Hush! 
Lie low!” and pointed out to us a moun- 
tain sheep, the first any of us had ever 
seen. It was a beautiful sight. The sheep 
was about 600 yards away, on a large boul- 
der, and directly between us and the sky. 
We saw merely his clear silhouette. We 
watched the magnificent animal as he 
turned and walked directly toward us. His 
head was held high in the air, and he 
picked his way over the rocks with won- 
derful nicety, never slipping, never mis- 
stepping. He traveled considerably faster 
than a man could have walked over the 
boulders. When about 200 yards from us 
he turned, walked across the crest of the 
mountain, and disappeared. That sheep 
probably does not know to this day how 
nearly he came to walking right into the 
3 human beings who were visiting him at 
his home on old Shaveno. 
We climbed on toward the summit 
which was then not far away. At one time 
a flock of large, beautiful birds flew almost 
over our heads. They were about half as 
large again as full grown pigeons, were 
white marked with black, their wings were 
long and made a whirring noise, and as 
they flew they uttered unmusical squawks. 
There were at least 20 of them. They told 
me afterward that these were the rare 
ptarmigan. 
A few minutes more and we reached the 
summit. The view was superb, indescrib- 
able! The most prosaic nature would have 
been thrilled and awed. On 3 sides of us 
were mountains, as far into the blue dis- 
tance as we could see. To our East 
lay the Salida valley, 15 miles long, and at 
its farther end a red speck, Salida. West 
of Shaveno, far below us, was a small, cir- 
cular, marshy basin. With a good jump 
we could have bounded down the moun- 
tain side nearly to it, some 2 miles. 
It was so fearfully cold that we began 
the descent at once, without writing any 
poetry on the summit. In going down, we 
ignored all saddles and gentle slopes, and 
took directly down for the horses. We had 
s 
able to do the bathing. 
2 miles, without a break, of loose granite 
to climb down, and the average slant must 
have been at least 45 degrees. We soon be- 
came widely separated, and before I was 
half down, no living thing, save a soaring 
eagle was in my sight. On all that moun- 
tain side, alone, I felt minute. I often 
paused to look and wonder and try to ap- 
preciate. By using hands and feet I made 
good time. I| soon heard a brook running 
under the rocks beneath me, and following 
the sound of it, I saw it emerge. On one of 
its banks there was a border of about 300 
feet of grass. I clambered down to this 
green streak, feet and hands as_ brakes. 
Whenever I grew tired and thirsty, I lay on 
the rocks and drank from the icy brook. 
After awhile the brook again sank, and 
forced me to take to the rocks. When nearly 
down I came suddenly to a jumping-off 
place. I crept up and looked over, and, lo! 
I was on the ledge overhanging the beauti- 
ful, deep, clear lake we had discovered in 
the morning. I was afraid the ledge might 
break, so I did not linger. I climbed 
around the upper end of the lake, de- 
scended a short: distance, and was down 
out of the rocks. 
I followed the basin on down and found 
Ed, just arrived. He was bathing a skinned 
arm and side, but was thankful he was 
In coming down 
he had loosened a rock above him.: It was 
about the size of a foundation stone, and it 
loosened several others. Ed saw them 
coming straight at him. He jumped, and 
landed, he said, about 30 feet farther down. 
In catching himself he sprained his wrist 
and bruised his side. 
We walked on down to the horses, about 
half a mile away, and saddled them. The 
Doctor then appeared, and we took to-the 
trail down through the timber. Once my 
broncho became somewhat excited because 
the dog_ran between his legs. He began to 
buck with great vigor, to run down hill, 
and to scrape against all convenient pine 
trees. The other men laughed heartily, but 
from where I was I could not see the joke. ~ 
When we reached the trail of the wounded 
deer we stopped and followed it. The Doc- 
tor found it, dead, on a ridge not 100 yards 
away, whither it must have returned 
during the day. Its meat was unfit for use, 
hence, regretfully, we left it. 
Our ride to town was otherwise unevent- 
ful. We reached home at 10.30 p. m. 
Tired? 
Stranger—Why do you let that child cry 
so. He’s howling all the time. 
Bridget—Shure, sir, it’s the only way I 
kin kape him still—Exchange. 
