Sheep Hunting in the Rockies. 
September had come around with its frosty 
nights and its leaves in all their autumn colors. 
Little sprinkles of snow showed in the morn¬ 
ing on the mountain peaks. The game season 
was open and to the man who lives in this land 
there comes a craving for the wild game and the 
chase. He cannot resist it long. It is only a 
question of a little time until he snatches a few 
days from his fall work and takes his outing and 
hunt. 
His hunt is very different from that of the 
tourist, who comes to the haunts of the deer 
and sheep with a guide and establishes a camp. 
The latter hunts the country by easy stages. He 
seldom takes more than an easy day’s trip be¬ 
tween breakfast and supper, with a good lunch 
between. He takes a day off, now and again, 
1 to “rest up.” He hunts a day or two and again 
■ spends an easy day in camp or nearby. He is 
having his vacation and there is no reason for 
his hurrying and wearing himself out by hunting 
all the time. He has come out to enjoy him¬ 
self, to break the monotony of his regular 
routine and get game if he feels like staying 
; long enough. But the man who lives nearest 
the mountains and game country seems to have 
less time for hunting than any one else. He 
may'possibly take more hunts in the year; he 
generally gets game when he goes, but invariably 
he goes when he must return within a limited 
time. The result is he hunts as long as there is 
daylight to help him and travels and camps 
after dark. 
During last summer my younger brother had 
been promised a little hunt before he went east 
I to school. Several opportunities had slipped 
: by., and as he had to have his hunt and naturally 
did not want to take it alone, I went with him. 
The evening of the sixth had come, and he 
had to be off to school before the fifteenth. 
We got a few supplies ready, dug up our old 
i frying-pans and coffee-pot, pack saddles, pack 
| ropes and hobbles, rubbed the dust off our rifles 
I and put everything in readiness for an early start 
j next morning. 
Before daylight we were up and busy. The 
horses were fed and watered and saddled. Then 
j the supplies and beds and wagon sheet, which 
j was to be used for a tent, all were packed. 
Last, but far from being of least importance 
when starting on such a trip, we ate a great big 
1 breakfast. 
i As we rode away, our little sisters joined us, 
j a nd we made quite a party—four in all and two 
| pack horses. Headed for the mountains, we 
hustled off toward our destination, which was 
plainly seen. It seemed only a bit of a ride to 
get there and begin work, but on and on we 
rode, talking of our chances of success and 
how much game we could pack home, of the 
f incited time we had and our determination to get 
.?ame; of other hunts and long rides and tramps, 
, and all the ups and downs of a hurried trip. 
1 he time passed quickly and we were soon at 
he forks of Cut Bank, nine miles from Brown- 
ng- Then we crossed the river and a ride over 
t stretch of open prairie between the forks 
brought us to old Weasel Fat’s ranch. H ere we 
,camped for an early dinner, so the little gills 
i -'ould return before dark. 
| Afterward Arthur and I settled down to the 
| : tern business of getting into the game country, 
i In a short time we galloped into the Cut Bank 
A anon and then between big mountains. On 
last the mouth of the canon joining the main 
valley from the north, then across a stream 
. and past the mouth of another canon. For a 
while we followed the main river very closely 
and climbed the cliffs at the falls, and through 
buck brush and willow and .windfalls until we 
reached the heavy timber. After that the climb 
began, and our progress was slow, but we 
were determined to reach the lake at the foot 
of the pass that evening. Sunset came and still 
we were on the trail. Our horses were tired 
from a long, long ride, but we urged them on 
and after a little while in the dark the lake 
showed before us. 
There we unpacked our horses and were not 
long in getting camp prepared. The horses 
were little trouble, for they were hungry enough 
AFTER A CLIMB OVER THESE CLIFFS ONE’S APPETITE 
NEVER FAILS HIM. 
to pass their time enjoying the rich mountain 
grass, so we turned them loose to range at will. 
No tent was brought, but our wagon sheet was 
thrown over a rope stretched between two trees. 
'1 hen the sheet was stretched to form the shape 
of an A tent. The four corners were pinned 
seclurely to the ground. A saddle blanket was 
fastened over the opening at the west end and 
our home was complete. The beds were laid, 
lunch eaten and a weary pair rolled in for the 
night. 
By the first break of day we.were at it again. 
The horses were rounded up and picketed, for 
they were apt to wander away after a quiet 
night’s feed and rest. We sat down and en¬ 
joyed a good warm breakfast of oatmeal and 
condensed cream, bacon, fried potatoes, coffee, 
and hot flapjacks. I had to try several times 
before I could toss one of the latter up from 
the frying-pan, turn it and catch it in the pan 
again. 
While eating we took turns looking through 
the binocular glasses.. Not a stone’s throw in 
front of us was a little stream that seemed to 
be tearing itself all to pieces on the rocks in 
its hurry to get somewhere down the canon, 
and just beyond was a lake at the foot of the 
giant mountain, so calm and clear that one 
could see in it a perfect reflection of the cliff 
nearby. To our left was the pass, not very 
high or steep, but striking in the symmetrical 
curves' of its sky line and the smooth appear¬ 
ance of its shale. Further to the left and to¬ 
ward the east the sun was just peeping over the 
high wall of Mount Hough, and so dazzling in 
its constant stare we could not look again. Be¬ 
low and to the right was the valley. It was not 
very wide and was a characteristic mountain 
valley. 1 here were several canons joining it 
from the north, and down each dodged a little 
stream as white as snow. Each seemed to play 
peek-a-boo as it showed its course at irregular 
intervals through the dark green forest and then 
disappeared in the evergreens of the main 
valley. Between these tributaries reared great 
mountains, dotted here and there with patches 
of snow that had lain all summer. Somewhere 
on these old rocks was our game, but where? 
It seemed that many of the great cliffs must 
conceal game that might walk out at any 
minute, but it didn’t, so we planned to climb the 
pass and hunt through the cliffs toward the 
east. 
. As soon as our breakfast was finished* our 
tramp began. Once in a while we stopped to 
catch our breath and look about. There were 
no signs of game, but we climbed high into the 
cliffs and crossed over two mountains. Find¬ 
ing no recent signs, we turned back. It was not 
long after we reached camp until the outfit and 
we were on the horses. We rode down to the 
mouth of the first canon joining from the north. 
There we tied up our horses without unpacking. 
The afternoon was fine and our ride rested 
us, so we started again with renewed vigor. 
After a long climb across the shale at the foot 
of the cliffs, we found a few signs. We puffed 
and steamed and sweated and kept climbing, 
but luck was' not in our favor. Striking a goat 
trail, we followed it to the head of the canon, 
but saw nothing. Returning to the horses just 
before dark, we hustled to the mouth of another 
canon and camped. 
Early in the morning we were climbing with 
the vow not to return until we had game. At the 
edge of the timber, where the cliffs begin to 
rise, we found many bear signs, and though 
that was not what we wanted, we climbed on, 
and it gave a sort of new life and push to us. 
As we climbed higher, a few goat and sheep 
signs were noticed with greatest satisfaction. 
On and up. The wind began to blow. The 
higher we climbed, the more wind was en¬ 
countered until there were times when we had 
to crouch down behind a rock to catch our 
breath and Collect our senses enough to pro¬ 
ceed. Finally I found on a ledge the bed 
grounds of several sheep. The climb had been 
hard and long, and we were tired before that, 
but did you ever reach that point in a hunt when 
after a discouraging day you came to the signs 
of success and felt that new life leap through 
your veins? Did you feel tired any more till 
you had your game? We did not. We could 
scarcely notice the wind any more. We never 
got out of breath. No ledge was too steep. 
Wherever those tracks went or seemed to go, 
there the trail seemed as smooth as a cinder 
path. 
But we were cautious. I had hurried as fast 
as I could and still be observant of the rocks 
and scrub-bush ahead. At last! There they 
were, not fifty yards away, looking for the 
enemy they seemed to know was near. Three 
sheep! I dropped down and looked back. No 
Arthur! Where was he? I looked ahead again. 
The sheep were running. I lost no more time, 
but raising my rifle I fired quickly for fear they 
would dodge away in the brush. I hit, but did 
not kill. Away they went until I lost sight of 
