410 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[March 13, 1909. 
would have lost their heads and have wandered 
vainly on. I was thankful to see his cheery 
face again. He had enjoyed himself so much 
that soon all my anxiety was lost in laughter. 
By this time darkness had set in and it was a 
grave doubt in my mind whether we could make 
camp that night and it was distinctly eerie rid¬ 
ing through thick timber. We kept up a lively 
conversation, however, talking perhaps rather 
louder than was necessary and consulting each 
other as to our whereabouts. Yes, there was 
the western star and so we must be on the right 
direction, and the horses also seemed keen to 
go that way. Suddenly we heard a shot, a sig¬ 
nal from the camp, and joyfully we answered 
■it. Sleeping out is no joke, even if you have 
a companion. The only thing to do is to make 
a huge fire and keep it going all night. 
We found Lady F. very nervous and upset, 
and she gave me a good scolding and threat¬ 
ened she would not allow her husband to go 
with me again. I think she was a little nervous 
at being alone in a tent for the night, with 
lions about, but she did not say so. The French¬ 
man had shot a hartebeeste and a wart hog and 
a good one at that, and the Dutchman told me 
that the wart hog had very nearly given the 
Count something to go on with, as he had 
rushed up to it and the pig had sufficient 
strength to get on his feet again and try to 
charge, but was unable to reach him before the 
Dutchman gave him his quietus. This is an¬ 
other warning and a thing for tyros to bear 
in mind. Never on any account approach game 
until you are certain that it is dead or so badly 
disabled as to be harmless. Any wild animal, 
if unable to get away, will come for you and 
may have strength to give you a very severe 
wound, if nothing more serious, before it can 
be killed or rendered harmless. 
During our absence a runner had arrived with 
a telegram, recalling Colonel F. and his party 
to Johannesburg, but after a talk they decided 
that they could spare one more day, and then 
hurry back to Livingstone, traveling there by 
saddlehorses instead of by wagon, could gain 
time, and leave their wagon to follow on 
leisurely. 
At the thought of their departure I grew 
quite depressed, but this did not interfere with 
sport. We first sighted a waterbuck which the 
Colonel killed and at noon, just as we were 
thinking of turning back to camp, we found a 
bunch of roan antelope and hartebeeste. They 
-were very wild; in fact, I think hartebeeste 
always are and they make first rate sentinels for 
other game, but eventually the Colonel suc¬ 
ceeded in hitting a roan bull and wounding it 
badly and we followed it up. The buck headed 
toward camp. Being hit hard well forward, he 
did not go far and we soon came up to him 
and finished him off. The Frenchman had 
found a bunch of sable, but he was unsuccess¬ 
ful in getting a shot. We returned to Kalomo 
the following day, reached there by noon and 
spent the rest of the day in curing trophies and 
packing. They started for Livingstone early the 
next morning. 
Our parting was rather sad. Colonel F. pre¬ 
sented me iwith his double-barreled hammerless 
.400 rifle with which I have killed many a head 
of game and hope to kill many more, and the 
French count was extremely gratified with his 
trip. It was perhaps better and turned out more 
successful than if all sorts of arrangements had 
been made, and it only shows what can be ob¬ 
tained with a little luck and with someone who 
has a little knowledge of the country. Some 
of your readers may ask the question and very 
rightly, too, what on earth we did with all the 
meat. Not one bit was wasted. I sent word to 
the police camp. They fetched away all that 
we did not use and it helped to feed the 200 odd 
native police who are stationed at Kalomo. 
Quite apart from shooting, Victoria Falls is 
well worth a visit, and with the present facili¬ 
ties in journeying it is really nothing to get 
there. The falls are a marvelous sight. They 
T he Indians say that some ten miles south 
of Tendoi’s camp in the main range is a 
cave which extends far into the moun¬ 
tains, and that a huge mountain ram lives 
near it which, when alarmed, takes refuge in 
this cavern and disappears in its gloomy depths. 
The hunter on entering finds the cave growing 
deeper and darker, until it pitches down into an 
abyss of total obscurity from which a cold wind 
constantly blows. That such a cave actually exists 
I have no reason to doubt, but the bighorn ram 
disappearing into it to avoid hunters must, I 
fear, be taken as fabulous. There seems to be 
a vague belief among many tribes that the larger 
game animals periodically go into and emerge 
from underground retreats. H.. C. Yarrow 
(annual report. Bureau of Ethnology, i879-’8o, 
p. 127) tells of a cave in Utah, near the Nevada 
line, described to him by a Gosi-Ute, who as¬ 
serted that “some years previous his people had 
stopped up the narrow entrance to prevent game 
seeking a refuge in its vast vaults.” 
All this seems childish enough and yet it 
appears to be one of those cases where fact and 
fiction meet almost on common ground, for 
after examining some of these caves myself, I 
can see that, absurd as are the Indians’ conclus¬ 
ions, there are certain facts at least upon which 
they might have been founded. The mountain 
sheep, for instance, hardy as they are, are fre¬ 
quently forced by severe storms to leave the ex¬ 
posed tops and shelter themselves in the timber 
and in the crannies of the rocks. A white hun¬ 
ter on Birch Creek found a cave where a band 
of sheep had thus stayed during bad weather 
and remarked jokingly that he was going to 
watch his chance and put some bars across the 
opening, thus capturing the entire bunch alive. 
Birch Creek flows south from the divide at the 
head of Lemhi, and, like most streams running 
from these mountains toward Snake River, sinks 
in the edge of the desert. 
A few years ago, while staying at a ranch 
on upper Birch Creek, I determined to explore 
some caves on the rocky face of the foothills 
east of the creek. One of these caverns in 
particular was very conspicuous from below and 
I inquired if anyone had ever climbed up to it. 
are four times as high as Niagara Falls. The 
river above the gorge is larger and wider. The 
scenery round about also is very fine and you 
have a first rate up-to-date hotel to put up at, 
furnished with every modern convenience. 
I only hope that I may be back there again 
early next year. Another sable I must get, as 
big as the Colonel’s, and I am afraid it will not 
be long before they will be driven away and 
shot out by the inrush of settlers and civiliza¬ 
tion. Should any of your readers wish for any 
further information the editor will put them 
into communication with me and I shall be most 
happy to help them in any way in my power. 
but found that though less than a thousand feet 
above the ranch, and only half a mile or so 
from the house, no one had ever investigated 
it, in spite' of the fact that the ranch had been 
occupied some twenty years. I thought there 
might be something “Indian” there, and this, 
combined with mere curiosity, was the incentive 
which led me to examine if. Starting out one 
afternoon I tried to reach it from below, but 
soon came to a vertical cliff fifty or sixty feet 
high which blocked all further progress, though 
I managed to get to a smaller cave, on the floor 
of which I was surprised to find mountain sheep 
manure in considerable quantity. With the ex¬ 
ception of two individuals many years ago, no 
sheep, nor sign of sheep, had been seen on this 
low mountain, though deer, bears and moun¬ 
tain lions were occasional visitors. 
Next day I examined the slopes carefully with 
a glass and picked out a route which proved 
feasible and enabled me to reach the larger 
cavern from above. I was not able to arouse 
sufficient enthusiasm to persuade anyone to go 
with me, but I afterward learned that the young 
ranchman was interested enough to watch my 
progress through the glass. The way I had now 
chosen offered no special difficulties, and after 
a rather rough climb, a slide down through a 
crevice and over an inclined face of rock, I 
found myself at the mouth of the cave which 
I am satisfied had never been visited by white 
men, and perhaps not for centuries even by In¬ 
dians. On first entering I saw nothing remark¬ 
able, but as my eyes became accustomed to the 
subdued light I discovered thirty or more rude 
figures or hieroglyphics in dull red on the rear 
wall, while a closer inspection showed that there 
had been a determined effort on the part of 
someone to scratch out each one of these de¬ 
signs. 
Some time after this a Shoshone stopped at 
the ranch and was questioned about the cave and 
its drawings. He said his tribe knew nothing 
of their existence, and thought they must be the 
work of some enemies of his people, possibly 
Pend Oreilles or Kootenay. At the foot of the 
cliffs, three miles south, are some well known 
Indian pictures, also in red paint, but of a less 
Irv the Locnd of Tendoi 
By DeCOST SMITH 
II.—Mountain Sheep Caves of Idaho 
