66 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
34, 1897 
it was slipping and gliding swiftly forward and upward 
over the open space of snow, and evidently rnaking for the 
"bare rocks above. Its speed was wonderful in view of the 
difficulties it was meeting; for the snow was 2ft. deep at 
the least where it was traveling, and underlaid with a glare 
of solid ice. 
I often hear persons describe a battle or a dog fight or 
something else of interest, and wonder at the inaccuracy 
which is apparent in such conflicting reports. Yet it is 
not real y wonderful at all, for in point of fact no man can 
describe a hattle or even a dog fight, since he cannot see 
it all. I am not sure that I saw all that happened in the 
moments immediately following our sight of the sheep, 
but I will try to tell how it seemed exactly as it appeared 
to me, so that it may he known how it feels to be in a 
sheep fight. 
In the first place, I was not excited, strange as that may 
seem. I don't believe one is so apt to be excited in shooting 
at big game as he is in shooting small game. A measly 
little quail or prairie chicken, of which I suppose I have 
shot perhaps thousands, can scare all my senses out of 
me when it flies up out of the grass near my feet, but big 
game doesn't rattle a fellow so much until the affair is all 
over. Perhaps this sheep was so far away it could not rat- 
tle anyone to look at it. I don't know. All I know is 
that ii all seemed to me precisely like a dream, in which I 
could see myself acting as a third person. I can see it all 
now, and it appears like a vitascope picture, the incidents 
of it flying by upon a continuous ribbon. 
Altogether in a dream, I saw Schultz throw himself 
down in the snow and heard his hurried call, "250yd8.!" I 
knew he was a good judge of distance and was glad to hear 
his dictum on this. What became of Billy Jackson I 
never knew at the time. It seems he bad fallen over his 
shoe and was floundering in the snow in a little hole he 
had stepped into. Schultz was groaning all the time, 
"Sboot! shoot! Why don't you shoot?" 
The why on my part was because I had to get my rifle 
out of the case. In this sort of hunting one is under the 
snow as much as he is above it, and a rifle must be care- 
fuUv covered, or it will be rendered worthless at the time 
it is needed. My little rifle— for I had taken the .30-30 
for a trial this morning— was in a cloth case, which had 
the bottom tied with a string. This I jerked ofi". Then 
there was a cleaning string, with the wiper pulled fast 
into the muzzle of the rifle in order to keep _ out the snow 
— a most wise precaution, but one taking time to undo. 
This string I also jerked out. Then I pulled off my 
smoked glasses and put them in my pocket. All this time 
1 was acting in a dream, but as swiftly as I could, all the 
time, too, having my eye fixed on that strange, gray, flit- 
ting creature far away up on the mountain. In the dream 
•I stepped forward beyond Schultz, and, throwing the car- 
tridge into the chamber, raised the rifle to fire. The sheep 
was now nearing the rocks and Schultz was groaning 
behind me in great anguish. No Billy Jackson any- 
where. I raised the rifle, but could not see through the 
sights! The Lyman rear sight was full of snow! 
T made a quick grab at the smaller aperture, stop trying 
to free the sight with a wipe, for' I knew it was no time to 
bs picking out the snow from tlie sight with any pointed 
substance. I still could not see through it, but— in the 
dream — I raised the rifle to the best line I could guess at 
and fired, never seeing through the rear sight at all. It is 
unknown to mortal man whei'e that bullet went. I 
watched anxiousl}'' for the sign where it hit — as that is- the 
only way I can shoot long distance shots, it making no 
difference what the distance is in yards if one can only see 
wliere his shots are going in fact Again — in the dream — 
I tired, this time carefully and deliberately, but again I 
failed to see where the bullet struck. Schultz was gi'oan- 
ing very badly now. Then there was a ringing shot at 
my right ear, and I knew Billy had got into action. 
I don't know whether I told him to shoot or not, but 
maybe I did, as I was having trouble with the sights. A 
third shot I fired with the Lyinan in that condition, and 
then Billy must have fired again. Then i turned down 
the Lyman on the tang, and was back to the open sights 
of my youth. I don't know who fired next, but some time 
along in there, it seemed now half an hour since the action 
began, I heard Schultz exclaim, "That shot went low!" I 
thought the sheep must now be at least 300yds. away, but 
I had no time to turn up the second leaf of my open sights. 
I simply drew full and tried to find where the balls were 
falling. The others of our party, upon the other side of 
the mountain, said they heard nine shots, but I don't 
know whether I fired five or six shots, or whether Billy 
fired three or four. My impression is that I fired five 
shots, three with the Lyman and two with the open sights, 
all in the dream, hurriedly, nervously, but apparently with 
coolness and without excitement, because it was not my- 
self, but some one else who was doing it. I was conscious 
at one time that Billy was near me, for I saw his rifle 
barrel Blicl<ing up at a,n angle, and I saw, too, that he was 
holding his fire, as if anxious not to shoot if he thought 
there was to be any show of my killing the sheep. Yet 
three times, as the keen cracks of the small-bores rang on 
the air, and as the sheep stumbled and seemed near to 
falling, Billy called out, "That knocked him!" and appar- 
ently expected to see him drop at any moment. I thought 
we were hitting the sheep, but hitting it too low and too 
far back to stop it. In the dream I felt that I must get up 
a little higher. 
The sheep, drawn on and up upon that invisible ribbon, 
flitted along until it was just at the edge of the wall rock, 
and near, as it must have seemed to it, to that safety it 
had sought when it first winded us as we approached 
along the edge of the timber in which it was feeding. 
For an instant, a glorious picture, it stood, apparently weak 
iVom its wounds and almost ready to drop, directly upon 
the top of a huge boulder, at the foot of a scraggj' cedar 
tree wliich grew at the base of the M'all rock. The nitro 
rifles left no smoke, and I doubt if it had seen us at all, 
hid as we were at the edge of the piece of woods. It was 
a good mark, and barely moving. I steadied down the 
rifle carefully, got the line perfectly, drew fine on the dis- 
tant gray object, and then raised the sight until T could 
seethe whole of the fore sight and part of the muzzle of 
the gun. At the crack of rifle that time, which sounded 
far awaj' and not pertinent, there happened a very strange 
thing. That great gray creature up on the rock, so far 
away, so strong, so full of life and skill and cunning, and 
so seeming entirely outside of any connection whatever 
with us — at the insignificant sound of the little load, this 
wild thing dropped" flat, fell »t ooce, prone, as though 
struck from above with some mighty hammer nnseen in 
the dream! How did that happen? I heard myself ask, in 
the dream. But a whoop sounded in my ear. Schultz 
was shaking my hand. Billy was grinning happily. 
What was it about? In this dream, then, I, had this man 
whom I had been watching, had I really killed a sheep? 
Had I come out here into these Rocky Mountains, in the 
middle of winter, and on my first day out after sheep, 
within a few miles of the camp and in-a few hours' journey- 
ing, killed the first bighorn I had ever seen, moreover a 
good one? No, no. Impossible. These men were crazy. 
It was still in a dream! 
The Trasredy. 
But far up on the rocks a little tragedy was going on. 
With a slow, heavy movement, as with its last strength, 
the great animal heaved itself up for an instant. It turned 
over upon its side. Then, slipping from the face of the 
rock which had supported it, it began to slide, to slip, and 
then to roll down the face of the mountain. Slowly, over 
and over, with the hindlegs sticking stifiiy straight out be- 
hind and the forelegs equally straight out in front, it rolled 
down and down, tintil it began to look very much larger 
than it had. Saving us a half hour's climb over the icy 
snow, it rolled down, more than 200yds., to a place where 
the snow was deep and soft, and where we soon met it, as 
we panted upward eagerly on our snowshoes. We reached 
the noble creature, which, a game animal to the last, 
uttered no sound as it moved its head feebly. We raised 
up the great curving, crescent horns, and saw the coveted 
trophy of the mountains actually in possession. Then, I 
think, I got somewhat excited, and babbled many things 
of which I have no recollection. The dream then was 
past. 
"You've got him, old man," said Schultz, and Billy still 
grinned amiably. All at once I recalled that maybe it 
wasn't my sheep after all, or at least that there might be a 
cloud on my title to him. "I guess we'd better say we got 
him, Billy," said I; but Billy stoutly protested he had never 
touched it. We turned the sheep over and looked for the 
first bullet holes, expecting to see the sheep cut to pieces 
about the legs. But never a bullet hole did we find but 
the one. My last shot had struck the ram in the point of 
the shoulder as he stood quartering and facing us, and the 
soft-nosed bullet smashed the shoulder to pieces, then 
ranging back, and finally stopping in the middle of the 
backbone. This at once paralyzed the hindlegs, and of 
course dropped the animal where it stood, The stumbling 
which we had noticed in its gait as we were firing at it had 
been simply the slipping of the animal on the ice Under- 
neath the snow — although we have been taught to believe 
that the mountain sheep never slips, no matter what its 
footing. 
When we got to our sheep as it lay in the deep snow 
near to the timber line, we were in a position to better see 
the distance at which it had been shot. The side view 
made this distance seem much longer, and indeed it seemed 
incredible that a tame man should have been able to stop 
this great, wild, powerful creature by an agency no more 
formidable than this little fine-talking rifle with the so- 
prano voice. As nearly as we could tell, the distance at 
which the sheep was actually killed was somewhat above 
SOOyds , probably 325 or over. At so great a distance more 
game is missed than is killed, and I hardly think I should 
have hit the sheep with my old rifle. To be sure, only one 
hit out of five shots for one man and four for another is 
not a very great record; but two of my shots were useless 
from the condition of the sights, and BUly said he shot 
when he was half up to his neck and struggling in the 
snow. Actual shooting on a winter mountain side at big 
game is different from shooting on a target range, or per- 
haps somewhat different sometimes from shooting by a 
fireside or in print. Well, anyhow, we got him. 
A Good Head. 
One of the swift changes of the mountains came on just 
as we were toiling up to the spot where our game lay. The 
sun disappeared in a gray blanket of cloud, and the wind 
swept pitilessly sharp and cold over the exposed mountain 
side. We regretted this, as we wanted to make some pic- 
tures of our sheep, which we feared would not be so good 
in the fainter light. We made a number of views of the 
old ram, however, which to our pleasure turned out very 
well. The old fellow was something of a veteran, with 
horns much worn and splintered at the tips. Schultz and 
Billy said it was a head above the average in size. In 
actual measurement it proved to be ISJin, This is what is 
usually called a 161 or 17, or 18in. horn, according to the 
fancy of the owner of it. Of course, such a head appears 
small compared to the old giant which was given to me 
last year by Billy Jackson, the like of which has not been 
seen in sportingdom since the days of recorded measure- 
ments; but none the less I have reason to be very well 
contented with the specimen, and so I told the boys as we 
were hauling our victim down into the shelter of the 
woods to skin and dismember him. I did not feel then as 
though I wanted anything else in the world. Schultz 
pointed out that this old ram had been feeding low down 
in the timber, and had been frightened by getting our 
wind as we came up the slope at the edge of the wood. 
The rest of the band had run straight on over a little ridge, 
instead of starting up the rock face as this one had tried to 
do. He said that if 1 wanted to kill another head we could 
easily do it by going on perhaps half a mile further, as the 
sheep had not seen us. But this I did not wish to do, hav- 
ing had sport enough for at least one day. At that time it 
seemed the easiest thing in the world to go out and kill a 
good ram any time I wanted to, and I was really indifferent 
whether I got another head on the trip, as this one was so 
good a specimen. 
In the Winter Mountains. 
It grew very cold before we got through our work of 
skinning out, and meantime a perfect kaleidoscope of light 
and shadow was playing on the face of the country about 
and above us. On up through the narrow little valley into 
which we were heading, the clouds broke away and showed 
a series of knife-blade peaks standing sharply up across 
the head of the valley, a very rough and impossible coun- 
try, and now apparently entirely prohibitory to us, as it 
was too far from our camp to reach in one day. Schultz 
said there would very likely be goats up on on those bare 
peaks, but we thought we could not get to them. To our 
left, across a deep canon, which made down into Two 
Medicine bagiu behind U8,r03e the imposing and formidable 
front of the great Rising Wolf, covered with snow up to 
the cap rock, where rested a glittering hood of icy, naked 
rock. From where we were we could see the fork in the 
top of Rising Wolf, and knew there was a little depression 
or "pot" in the extreme summit, where the upper peak 
split and dipped down. Here Schultz thought there would 
surely be goats, but as we glanced over that sheer, glaring 
face of white, we knew that no mortal being could climb 
that mountain on the side we faced. A nob|e but a fear- 
some front it offered us, as we gazed at it from our vantage 
ground high up on the opposing peak. Any way we looked, 
the spectacle was magnificent. We were folded into the 
hills. We had come around a shoulder of the mountain 
which cut off the view of our lake from us, so that we had 
no suggestion of anything but rugged mountains all around. 
The mountains in summer are grand enough. What they 
are in winter I shall not try to tell. 
When we made up our packs for our trip down the 
mountain to camp, Schultz assumed the greatest burden, 
that of the head of the ram. I took the skin and a little 
meat, and Billy carried his rifle and the camera. We had 
brought along with us plenty "of the thongs and ropes 
which come so handy at times in such work as this, and so 
our packs were fairly practicable. We expected to come 
up again for more meat. My friends said it was a pity 
we did not have a steel trap or some poison to put out at 
the carcass, as we would then be sure to get that big cat, 
whatever it was, not later than that night. 
We plunged down hill very much faster than we came 
up, cutting across country which had been much too steep 
for us coming up. Soon we reached the point where we 
had separated from the others in the morning, but we got 
no token of their whereabouts. As Schultz was now very 
weary with carrying the big head, and Billy was complain- 
ing of his old enemy, the mountain rheumatism, I went 
on ahead from this point, expecting that the others would 
soon overtake me on the trail. It was three or four miles 
to camp, but when I got there my companions were still 
back somewhere on the trail, so I put off my pack, and 
taking the toboggan went back to meet them. 1 found 
them coming on in very bad order, Billy suffering with his 
back, and Schultz about played out with the big head, 
which he said he was sure weighed over a ton. We light- 
ened up by putting the stuff on the toboggan, and so were 
soon all in camp around a hot fire, cooking fresh sheep 
liver and telling all about it to each other. We agreed 
that it had been a very lucky day. It was only 12;30 at 
the time we were skinning out the sheep, and we got into 
camp before it was beginning to grow dusky. 
"The Forest and Stream luck is sure with Us," said 
Schultz, We all hoped McChesney had done as well, 
though there were those who remembered with a shudder 
the umbrella which he had brought out so far as the 
reservation. If McChesney should prove able to over- 
come the evil agency of the umbrella, then surely his 
medicine must be strong. 
At the Lod«-e-Flre. 
We three— Schultz, Jackson and myself— held camp 
alone for some time that evening. At first we thought we 
would go out on the ice and take a few trout before it got 
too dark, as we had a couple of lines set through the ice 
—saving the principles of all decent trout fishing outside 
of reservations— and Billy thought the trout, which had 
no doubt taken these baits, would "get tired, staked out 
there in one position all the time;" but we concluded we 
were too tired to go even half a mile still further so long 
as the fire and the grub held out. It was 8:15 in the even- 
ing and quite dark, before we had any sign of our com- 
rades of the other party, and Schultz was very uneasy lest 
McChesney had given out under the exhausting work of 
climbing, so that he would not be able to get into camp at 
all. To stay out over night in the summer or fall is one 
thing, but to lie out in the winter time with no blankets, 
and perhaps no grub, with the thermometer maybe ID to 20° 
below zero, is another and far more dangerous experience. 
We were, therefore, very glad when we heard the shuffle 
of snowshoes coming up back of the lodge, and saw O-to- 
ko-mi's dark face, framed with a rim of white, protrude 
through the opening of the door-flap. 
One by one the tardy ones came into the lodge and 
dropped upon the sitting places on the beds about the fire. 
No one said anything to them, and they did not speak to 
anyone. McChesney's hair and moustache were ftill of 
snow. Powell and the Indian hunter were equally frozen- 
looking, and none of them seemed any too brisk or bril- 
liant at the time. At length McChesney said: "Well, you 
got him;" then presently: "I didn't." 
It all came out as we sat about the fire, at which Schultz 
was now busy getting a meal for the newcomers. They 
had found that the sheep seen by O-to-ko-mi the previous 
day had all taken fright and gone far back and high up in 
the hills. They had chmbed and climbed in the pursuit 
until they had topped the great mountain above the point 
where we had parted, and then gone even down on the 
other side, on which the Cut Bank Creek runs clear out 
into the prairies. Sheep they had seen, and 0-to-k6-mi 
had killed a little ram, and they had chances to kill sev- 
eral ewes, had they cared to do that; but, though he hunted 
faithfully all day, following the tireless Indian, for whose 
quality as a mountain man he could not say enough, 
McChesney had had no opportunity to get a head. They 
had been within 60yds. of ewes more than once. It 
seemed that nearly all the sheep wintering on that side 
of the mountains were ewes, the big rams having gone 
away by themselves and worked off in the direction which 
the others of us had taken in the morning. 0-to-kd-mi 
and McChesney figured out that, in the two days just 
past, there had been seen not less than ninety-five sheep 
in all on the country over which they had been hunting. 
Good Sheep Country. 
I doubt if anywhere in the country there could be so 
great a number of mountain sheep seen in the space of 
two days, at any season of the year. Of course, in the 
winter the sheep find their feeding grounds very much re- 
stricted, and so are apt to be found more or less banded 
up; but even so, to see nearly 100 in two days is some- 
thing which few huntera of late days can tell about. Our 
friends who live in that country, and who were good 
enough to ask us out to see it, say that the sheep are not 
now so abtmdant as they once were, as the hunting seems 
to keep them from breeding as they formerly did when 
undisturbed. Schultz mentioned one band of nine ewes 
geen the previous summer, in. which only two laa\b8 could 
