September, 1922 
m 
Into the land where the white sheep roam The great animal fell at the edge of the lake 
counted fifteen mountain sheep, but their 
keen eyes soon spotted our pack train 
and bounded off out of sight. Finally, 
the long climb came to an end, and our 
poor jaded horses were given a well- 
deserved rest. Looking down six thou- 
sand feet we had a grand view of the 
Scoli Basin, where the great Russell 
Cdacier ends abruptly. Two streams 
rise beneath this huge barrier of ice. 
One mingles with the water of the 
Copper River and empties into Prince 
William Sound, while the other reaches 
the Yukon which empties into the 
Bering Sea. 
A camp was made at the base of 
Castle Mountain in one of the govern- 
ment shacks. These places of refuge 
are built at points where miners and 
prospectors are liable to be caught in 
Storms or blizzards. They are much 
appreciated by Alaskans, who hope that 
more of them may be constructed in the 
future. Mountain sheep, both alive and 
dead, were much in evidence at this 
camp ; bones, skins and horns were scat- 
tered around the door, while high up on 
the mountain peak we counted ten live 
white ewes and lambs sporting about on 
the grassy benches of the steep cliff. 
Luckily the horses did not stray far 
during the night so we made an early 
start in the morning. It was a long hard 
drill over the rough rocks and ice of the 
glacier. Deep pools of water formed in 
j)ockets between the ice cliffs and great 
yawning crevasses threatened to swallow 
up our caravan. With some nervous 
tension we crossed these treacherous 
trails, for one never can tell when the 
melting ice may collapse beneath one’s 
feet. However, no accidents happened 
to us, but one horse that left the trail 
had a narrow escape as he slipped and 
crashed down a steep embankment. As 
I walked far in the rear all I could 
hear was a great thumping noise like a 
huge body bounding down hill. I rushed 
forward fully expecting to see a dead 
or dying horse at the foot of the hill of 
ice, but,, through one of those rare 
streaks of luck that we are often unable 
to explain, there was our animal unin- 
jured but wedged solidly between two 
walls of ice. He was securely held in 
that position until we rescued him. 
At four in the afternoon we left the 
glacier and entered the wide gravel bars 
of the White River. There we encoun- 
tered another series of swift muddy 
streams which were easily forded on 
horseback. Some of the finest scenery 
I have ever looked upon was at the 
source of the White River. We were 
now down to timber line again and later 
in the day we came to Solo Cabin, where 
we camped for the night. Mount Nata- 
zat loomed high in the distance as the 
setting sun glistened on its rugged snow- 
clad peaks. 
On the morning of August twentieth 
we continued down the river. It was a 
dreary day and heavy clouds hung low 
on the mountains. Moose and caribou 
tracks were quite common, and we also 
saw the footprint of a large timber wolf. 
In the afternoon we left the river bed 
apd turned north into the woods. Many 
small trees had to be cut to allow our 
horses to pass. The tired animals wal- 
lowed through swamps for several hours, 
but finally the trail led out again into 
the open country and we began to ascend 
a series of pleasant rolling hills where 
we intended to establish a permanent 
hunting camp. As we looked about for 
a suitable locality rain fell in torrents. 
We were again above timber ; a clump 
of dead willows looked good to us for 
firewood so we pitched the tent and 
cooked supper. 
'T^HE following day we hung around 
camp all morning waiting for the 
mists to rise from the hills. Occa- 
sionally the sun would appear only to 
be obscured again in a few moments by 
another blanket of clouds that rendered 
the prospect of a hunt dubious. How- 
ever, at noon three of us left camp and 
traveled up the creek between the high 
sheep pastures on each side of the val- 
ley. After scanning the grassy slopes 
all about us we agreed to go scouting 
in different directions. Jimmy turned 
north up a long valley, and while John 
and I were debating on which course we 
should take the unexpected happened. 
John spied three sheep and exclaimed, 
“There they are on a ridge !” The 
glasses were brought into play and we 
could clearly see the sheep lying' down 
and looking over toward our valley. 
One of the trio appeared to be a good- 
sized ram so we wasted no time in de- 
ciding on the best way to climb the 
mountain in order to get above the game, 
which is the usual method of stalking 
sheep. It seemed a long while before 
we reached the summit. Slowly and 
carefully we crept over the mossy 
hillocks, and then up on to the loose 
shale rock with frequent stops for rest 
and for regaining our breath. At last 
we came to the crest of the mountain. 
It was flat and covered with smooth 
slabs of moss-covered boulders. All this 
time we had been well out of sight of the 
sheep and we were hoping they would 
remain where we had first spotted them. 
But as we began to descend the moun- 
tain on the opposite side, loose stones, 
dislodged by our feet, rolled down the 
steep incline. The sheep, however, paid 
little attention to such noises for they 
are used to rock slides every day of their 
lives. 
On peering over the top of a large 
rock I spied the three animals moving 
along the shale half way down the 
.mountain. We dropped down over a 
few hundred yards of the loose boul- 
ders, keeping a projecting ridge between 
us and the game all the while. For a 
time it looked as though the sheep were 
getting out of range. The animals 
turned up the valley, skirted the side of 
a knoll and then came back. While they 
were passing beneath the hill and out of 
sight, my opportunity came, so I crept 
down another hundred yards. Presently 
they appeared passing over the slide 
rock, 200 yards away. I immediately sat 
down in an easy position and fired at the 
leader. The first shot broke his front 
leg although I did not know it at the 
time as John said the shot was low. I 
then turned my attention to the two 
other sheep, fired three shots at one and 
two at the other, killing both. One 
animal was killed by a bullet that com- 
pletely shattered the lower part of the 
heart. The second ram at which I fired 
reeled twice and fell 250 yards away. 
Wondering what had become of the first 
ram, I looked around and there he was, 
headed up in our direction, not more 
than fifty yards off. A bullet in the 
