Nov. ii, igii.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
707 
dogs. Above the yelping of the dogs I heard 
weird music, and said to Jack: “Someone is 
singing,” “No,” said Jack, “he’s cry.” Upon 
approaching the camp Jack motioned me to stop, 
and looking carefully saw that a squaw was 
kneeung before a tiny A-tent, the flap of which 
was slightly raised, and was singing a death song. 
Her black hair was sweeping over her shoulders, 
blown about by the wind and heavy rain, the 
pines bent in the blast, and sheets of rain were 
swept across the miserable camp and over the 
pitiful form of this poor squaw as she knelt, ob¬ 
livious of our presence, and wailed forth her 
lament for the dead. A wild scene, full of touch¬ 
ing pathos. Soon a young buck came out of the 
camp to meet us, and explained that an old 
woman, a “tyee girl” (a princess of the tribe) 
had died the night before. 
We got moccasins from him and ordered more 
to be made up and brought to us at our camp the 
following day, and at 3 P. m. trotted into head¬ 
quarters’ camp at Jack’s valley to find that Doctor 
had got cqld sleeping alone, and had set up the 
little folding stove in the tent, and was just about 
to consume a fine plum pudding which he had 
spent two days in compounding. We arrived 
just in time to save his life by eating the pudding 
ourselves, and Jack and I took the trail for the 
benches on horseback to hunt them out one last 
time before moving, for we pull out to-morrow. 
Nothing doing on the benches. Plenty of fresh 
sign there, but no rams. 
Sept. 17.—Such a wonderful sleep last night, 
and such wonderful health this morning. In spite 
of the strenuous day yesterday, not a sore muscle 
or joint. Everyone very cheerful at breakfast 
on this, the last morning in the most ideal camp 
we ever have had anywhere in twenty-five years 
of roughing it. 
Out through Osborn’s Pass, down Tyaughton 
Creek, turning off to the south and climbing up 
a long pass to cross over into Gun Creek Valley. 
Our Chilcotin buck, who rode into camp early 
this morning, with the moccasins, had with him 
a fine long caribou hide riata of which old man 
Napoleon became enamored, and for which he 
offered the Chilcotin his extra pair of trousers 
and his old silver watch. This was refused, but 
after we had gone along about ten miles or so, 
the Chilcotin caught up with us, having changed 
his mind, and traveled along with us about five 
miles while he and Napoleon tried to pull off the 
trade. The negotiations concluded with Napoleon 
stopping to pull off his extra trousers and hand 
over his watch, and shortly afterward he rode 
proudly up to us with - the rope on his saddle. 
Said Jack: “He’s smart man, that ol’ man Na¬ 
poleon. Dat watch she’s no good. She’s all time 
go sleepy.” 
As we rode out above timber line Napoleon 
suddenly reined in and pointed his wrinkled old 
finger toward the high bare saddle on our right, 
600 yards away, where, outlined sharply against 
the sky, traveling along, were ten ewes and two 
year-old youngsters. Instantly they saw us and 
skipped over the skyline, but with our glasses we 
could see them all come back and peek over at 
us, nothing but horns and eyes showing. While 
watching them we saw, still further around to 
the right, five rams swing up over the end of 
the saddle out on to the nearest side of Shillops 
Mountain. They were visible for a moment only, 
but two of them looked good enough to hunt, 
and Jack and I immediately made off toward the 
mountain, leaving Doctor and Napoleon to camp. 
Riding up a thousand feet we tied the horses, 
and for two hours hunted around the mountain 
on foot, striking the trail of the rams and fol¬ 
lowing it from cliff to cliff over short reaches of 
sliderock and little benches where the sheep 
sign was a foot deep; mostly, however, made by 
ewes and lambs rather than by rams, Jack said. 
Just at dark we caught sight of one of the rams, 
but only a three-year-old unworthy to be killed, 
and we made for camp, arriving there after dark, 
in a lively snow squall. 
I forgot to mention that the Chilcotin mocca¬ 
sins are a litt'e bit different from anything I ever 
saw elsewhere. They are constructed with a 
WATCHING FOR SHEEP. 
broader toe, making a much better tread for the 
white man’s use, and are made of very thick 
thoroughly tanned mule deer skin, which dries 
out soft instead of hardening after water. It 
was also very curious to see Jack's attempts to 
pay the Chilcotin for these moccasins. He did 
not want any money, and refused all attempts to 
pay him either in King George’s bills or in silver, 
for when you are 200 miles from the railroad, 
and there is no corner grocery nearby, silver and 
bills are not much good, but tea, sugar and salt 
are the real thing, and as he insisted upon having 
one of these three in payment, we were in fact 
reduced to a primitive state of barter. 
Sept. 18.—There was a little snow over every¬ 
thing this morning, and a lone coyote, disgusted 
with the conditions, was barking and howling 
dolefully on a high bench 500 yards from camp. 
We were away early on up through the pass, 
which was cold as Greenland and swept clean of 
snow by a high wind; then down over the other 
side, across a lot of big upland meadows, to make 
a beautiful little camp in a tiny group of pines 
just at the edge of timber line, and high above 
Gun Creek. Across the creek a snowy range of 
mountains of picturesque grandeur, focusing at 
the northwest against the black sky in a high 
pass full of ice and snow. 
Jack and 1 hunted mowitch unsuccessfully down 
Gun Creek all the afternoon, while Doctor went 
off up creek to sketch a little green glacier lake, 
and reported seeing two white nanny goats, with 
kids, across the lake. 
Sept. 19.—Jack roused the camp at daylight by 
shouting to Napoleon to get up and see what 
time it was by his rope. A mighty early break¬ 
fast in the shivery snow, and Jack and I were 
off on horseback for the high pass at the head 
of Gun Creek, to cross over into the head of 
another of those great vaileys which the sheep 
love, and of which there seem to be an inex¬ 
haustible supply in this high frozen wilderness. 
As we neared the summit of the pass, after an 
hour’s hard climb, we saw trotting out along the 
backbone of the easterly mountain and not over 
seven or eight hundred yards away, about forty 
ewes and lambs looking big as camels standing 
out in silhouette against the sky. The minute we 
moved, however, they sprang up over the ridge 
with one accord; then all came back, peeking 
over to satisfy their female curiosity before 
bursting into full flight. 
Up now to fields of snow and ice again, and 
a pass full of high freezing winds; a mighty 
chilly morning and a cold, cold upper world into 
which we climbed with the utmost difficulty, the 
horses slipping constantly. We finally worked 
them into a great bunch of rocks, and unsaddling, 
blanketed them as well as possible and tied them 
to the rocks. Then we made our way on foot 
up over the pass and down across a big steep 
snowfield upon the other side into the head of 
a valley studded with glaciers and reaching away 
down into the lower country, carpeted with purple 
forest. 
Passing the snow, we worked into the black 
cliffs along the easterly side of this valley, slip¬ 
ping along cautiously as always, and pausing at 
every point of vantage to scan the moss and 
snowfields below. Suddenly Jack crouched back, 
his eyes blazing with excitement, and exclaimed, 
“Shillops.” Peering carefully around the edge 
of the cliff, there, down below at the head of a 
little green spot close to the edge of the glacier, 
250 yards away, stood a noble ram, and there 
another, close to the foot of the sliderock, graz¬ 
ing and watching; a truly splendid sight. 
On getting the powerful glasses on them I was 
almost startled to see them so close to me in 
their splendid wildness, alert, but unconscious 
of danger. To one who has watched deer, moose 
or goats feeding, who in spite of their general 
watchfulness do take life somewhat leisurely at 
feed, it was surprising to see how these rams, 
even in this remote wilderness, far from the 
haunts of men and only for a few short weeks 
in the year even taking any chance of danger, 
were yet the embodiment of watchfulness itself. 
Each ram would take a mouthful or two of moss, 
and then suddenly look up quickly straight at 
some point in the rocks for two or three sec¬ 
onds ; then turn sharply and look hard at an¬ 
other point, as if he felt sure he saw something 
