894 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[June 4, 1910. 
as this, but then it seemed to me incredibly 
high, and when I got to the top I began to 
wonder whether after climbing that peak I would 
be expected to do anything more that day. 
When we finally arrived at the top I sat down 
and panted while Pat examined the country 
through a field glass. Pat was an exceptionally 
good guide, but as for conversation, he would 
have done well as a sign in front of a cigar 
store, for he never spoke unless some weighty 
matter had to be announced. 
On this occasion after looking the country 
over very carefully he finally said: “I see three 
rams under those bluffs,” pointing to some great 
granite cliffs about four miles away. Having 
made this oration he got down and carefully 
crawled off the skyline. I followed, wondering 
if they were expected to see us, when we could 
hardly detect them through a pair of ten-power 
prism binoculars. 
Before we had seen the rams we had gone 
slowly in order to look the country over as we 
went. Now we started down the side of the 
mountain as fast as we could go. We crossed 
the valley, went up another little ridge and down 
again, always keeping on the side of the moun¬ 
tain away from the rams. After we had gone 
about three miles I began to feel very much out 
of breath, coupled with a great weakness around 
my knees and a general desire to lie down and 
die. However, there was nothing to do but to 
stick to it, and after fifteen or twenty minutes 
more, Pat turned and sat down on the hillside. 
I had a feeling that the rams were over the next 
ridge, but could not say certainly. We sat there 
for ten minutes and when I was somewhat re¬ 
covered we started on again. I knew then that 
Pat was a good man to hunt with, as I had not 
asked to stop, but he had evidently seen that I 
was in no condition to shoot and had, therefore, 
given me a rest which I needed, but which I 
would not have taken on my own account. 
Taking off our hats we then crawled cauti¬ 
ously to the top of the ridge. Pat finally peeped 
over, and in a moment crawled back very much 
excited and said: “There is the big one, right 
over there, a little bit beyond the rest.” I threw 
off the safety of my gun and crawled to the top 
of the ridge. About one hundred yards away 
in a little hollow a dozen sheep were lying down, 
and just beyond them was a huge ram. I did 
not stop to count them or to see whether there 
were other rams as big as this one, but took a 
good aim at him. At the crack of the gun the 
rest of the sheep jumped to their feet and started 
off full tilt across the country. The ram that I 
had hit leaped half way up, plunged and then 
fell, rolling and tumbling down the hillside. I 
waited to see if I had him helpless, and then 
turned and fired three times at the running rams, 
trying to see if I could not pick up a second 
ram as they ran. I was, however, unable to do 
this, being very much afraid of killing a ewe, 
and not very anxious to even get a ram. Even 
as I shot I could not help feeling that I had 
come 3.000 miles to hunt sheep, and I was only 
allowed two rams, and that I hated to end my 
sheep hunt within three hours after the time I 
started. In a moment all the sheep were over 
the ridge, and Pat and I turned and ran down 
the hill after the big ram. We found him stuck 
in a fir bush into which he had rolled. He was 
a beautiful ram, very large and of a beautiful 
dark color; in fact, almost black. The horns 
were massive and curled straight around his 
head, the points standing upward and being 
broken from fighting. They measured about 
fourteen inches and a quarter at the base and 
were very heavy, getting only a little smaller 
for a considerable distance. 
The killing of this ram seemed to loosen Pat’s 
tongue and he discoursed for some time with¬ 
out stopping: “He ol’, ol’ fellow. We no get 
such ol’ fellow this year. I think he fifteen year 
ol’. He very ol’ fellow. We hunt up high— 
we catch him right way. Other man I have he 
hunt low. We hunt long time; we no catch 
’em. See ram; mus’ go way round up high to 
catch him. This ol’, ol’ fellow; no kill such ol’ 
fellow this year.” This was the only time dur¬ 
ing the trip that Pat made any continuous re¬ 
marks. 
This ram gave me a new idea of the general 
appearance of mountain sheep. I had always 
pictured them as light-built, small-bodied ani¬ 
mals, much like the antelope, with small horns. 
I was astonished to find that mountain sheep ram 
are big-bodied, heavy-set, stocky animals; in 
fact, I should say that a big ram looks more like 
a small pony in the shape of his body and gen¬ 
eral build than any other animal I am familiar 
with. This is perhaps inaccurate scientifically, 
but I think the description will give any person 
who has never seen a mountain ram a better idea 
of his appearance than any other comparison I 
could make. 
After looking the ram over for some time Pat 
and I took several pictures of him. We then 
cut off his head, cleaned him and started for 
camp, arranging that Pat would return with a 
horse and bring in the body. 
It was about 2 o’clock when we got back, and 
while Pat went after the sheep, I busied myself 
re-setting our tent. I picked out' a small hol¬ 
low which was somewhat sheltered from the 
wind and set it up properly, putting up our small 
stove securely. This folding stove was a great 
comfort. It was light and took up little room 
when folded, but when it was going, would pant 
and blow like an engine until it finally got red 
hot and heated up our nine by nine tent until 
the heat was unbearable. 
By 5 o’clock we had everything unpacked and 
in good order, when Cutler and Grant White 
came in. They had not had a shot, although 
they had seen three rams which they had stalked 
unsuccessfully. Grant thought the rams had seen 
Pat going back for my ram, and that had dis¬ 
turbed them, but as there seemed to be plenty 
of rams about, he felt confident of getting some 
later. That night we tried the liver of our first 
ram for supper, it being our first fresh meat. 
He was an “ole fellow” and it was the rutting 
season, and I cannot say much for him or his 
liver. We ate it and that was all. 
Russell Mott, 
[to be continued.] 
New Born Calf Elk. 
In the elk country now, the calves are begin¬ 
ning to be born, and the traveler may often see 
such a picture as that on the opposite page. The 
new born elk is hidden by its mother, and if 
found, seems limp and lifeless. Lying there, 
among stones, grass or underbrush—often where 
the ground is patched with sunlight—the little 
elk is almost invisible to anyone who does not 
know what to look for. 
Spring Wildfowl Shooting. 
Clarksdale, Miss., May 25 .—Editor Forest and 
Stream: There can be no question on a priori 
grounds of the benefit of such a measure as stop¬ 
ping spring shooting, though it may rest solely 
upon the familiar principle that “white sheep eat 
more than black sheep.” 
My observation is that in the Gulf States there 
has never been any spring shooting, because the 
birds have generally disappeared on their North¬ 
ern migration by the end of winter. 
It is a notable fact that ducks have been 
markedly more abundant in the vicinity of the 
lower Mississippi River during the past two sea¬ 
sons than for many years before, and probably 
more numerous last season than the preceding. 
Coahoma. 
Richmond, Va., May 22.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: In my opinion waterfowl should not 
be shot after March 1. I am glad to say a ma¬ 
jority of the sportsmen of this section share 
this opinion. We notice a decided decrease each 
year. Waterfowl are more abundant in some 
sections of the State than .in others where cor¬ 
responding conditions exist, yet a general de¬ 
cline is noticeable each year. 
I would like to see all migratory birds under 
federal control. Then seasons could be regu¬ 
lated to suit conditions in the several States. 
The marketing of game should be restricted and 
none exported, except under hunting license. 
There should be a small bag limit. Conditions 
of forty-five years ago when I was a young 
sportsman will never return, but much of the 
fast disappearing game can be preserved by 
proper regulation and hearty co-operation. 
L. T. Christian. 
Tarpon Springs, Fla., May 23.— Editor Forest 
and Stream: I have for many years been op¬ 
posed to all spring shooting, notably of ducks, 
and Captain Kendall, to whom I broached the 
subject, says ; that he does not see how any in¬ 
telligent man can hold a different opinion. I 
have talked also with other leading sportsmen 
of both Northern and Southern birth, and I be¬ 
lieve that there is no difference in their views 
of the matter. They all want the open season 
shortened, and spring shooting abolished. They 
all, I believe, would prefer a State game law to 
the present county system. 
As to the relative abundance of ducks between 
now and two or three years ago, the question is 
perhaps not easily answered. In the Anclote 
River, which is near this place, there were, I 
think, fifty ducks five years ago where there is 
now scarcely one to be seen, yet John T. Hill, 
a native of this county, who knows the haunts 
and habits of the game, and is entitled to full 
credence, says that the ducks have really been 
increasing in number, but that they have changed 
their feeding grounds to others not so easily ac¬ 
cessible, which will really protect the game. 
• I shall try to write you on this subject at 
some future time. Kelpie. 
Derry, N. H., May 16 . — Editor Forest and 
Stream: We have no duck shooting in this 
State as far as I know. Our lakes are cold, 
deep and springy. Ducks and even muskrats do 
not seem to have any use for them. 
I have lived on the coast of Massachusetts 
