254 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Aug. 14, 1909. 
At last we reached the desired height and were 
now obliged to slacken our pace, for several bad 
places must be crossed before we could hope 
for a shot, and one false step would insure us 
a quick drop into the “valley of shadows." 
Crawling out on some shelving rock we were 
enabled to look over on to the ledge the sheep 
had occupied when we first saw them. Not a 
sheep was in sight, and we sat down and said 
things until what little breath we had was en¬ 
tirely used up. 
Time was passing and as talking would do 
no good we clambered down to the deserted 
ledge and found the tracks on the other side; 
they were still going up. Again we took up the 
climb and again we saw the sheep, still out of 
range, and this time they saw us. A few bounds 
from one pinnacle to the next, two or three quick 
turns around shelving ledges and they were 
gone. “The boys on top will get them sure,” 
declared my companion. “I hope so,” I replied 
with a faint attempt at sincerity, for I did want 
that ram. However, there was no use going 
further after that bunch of sheep, so we decided 
to work down to lower country again. This was 
no easy task. In several places we could go up, 
but to go down without dropping or rolling, 
which we could have done without half trying, 
was difficult. My partner having lived all his 
life in the mountains was an experienced moun¬ 
taineer and I willingly allowed him to map out 
our course. He finally decided on a route down, 
at the same time assuring me it was “a tough 
kind of a place.” With much slipping, circling 
and at times sitting down and sliding, using our 
rifle butts as breaks, we managed, with the loss 
of considerable skin from our hands and shins, 
to reach a lower level. 
We were proceeding cautiously down into a 
ravine, with the idea of working out along the 
bottom, when on looking ahead I saw a young 
ram standing on a point of rock, evidently listen¬ 
ing. He had not scented or seen us, but had 
evidently heard our approach. We were slightly 
above him and within a hundred yards’ range, 
as I quickly drew a sight on him. I had visions 
of the large ram we had seen and this looked 
like a poor substitute, but we had been without 
meat for some time and I could not allow the 
opportunity for restocking our larder to pass 
without bringing down on my head the maledic¬ 
tions of my companions. I aimed directly be¬ 
hind the left shoulder and just as the ram turned 
his head in our direction, fired. He sank to his 
knees, gave one or two spasmodic pushes with 
his hind legs and collapsed. We hastily scram¬ 
bled down to him, cut his throat and cleaned 
him. He was in splendid condition, although 
the head was worthless as a trophy. Twilight 
was coming on and hastily quartering the sheep 
we made up our packs and hastened on down 
the ravine and so on down to timber line. 
When we came out of the timber we saw the 
flames of a large brush fire leaping high in air. 
Our comrades had built this signal fire to guide 
us in should we be unable to find camp in the 
darkness. 
The two hunters along the top of the range 
had seen many tracks and had twice seen the 
same band of sheep we had followed, but each 
time the sheep saw them and disappeared before 
they were able to shoot. 
That night, Indian fashion, we gorged our¬ 
selves on the sheep meat till we could scarce 
breathe. It was the first meat we had eaten in 
some time, and as a cowboy in the party put 
it, “It took right a-holt.” 
The following day we again hunted the same 
country in the hopes of securing the big ram. 
We did not again see the same bunch of sheep, 
however, although one of the party killed a good 
sized ram with a fair head. When shot, it 
pitched down from a jutting point of rock, 
landing on a ledge far below. In getting down 
to it the hunter nearly lost his life, a large dis¬ 
lodged rock bounding past within a foot of 
where he stood on a small shelf, unable to move 
out of the way. 
We now had all the meat we cared to pack, 
and while regretting our inability to bring out 
the big ram we saw, we decided to pull for the 
home camp, as it looked very much like snow 
and we had no desire to face a blizzard in that 
high country. Accordingly, early next morning 
we took up the march for home. 
Elmer Russell Gregor. 
Old Beaufort and Vicinity. 
Raleigh, N. C., Aug. 7 .—Editor Forest and 
Stream: I have just returned from my annual 
ten-day visit with fifty Sunshine boys and girls 
to old Beaufort. The town is twelve miles from 
Cape Lookout, where there is a wonderful 
natural harbor, which is now of great import¬ 
ance in view of the work on the first section 
of the great inland waterway, the cut for which 
is twenty miles in length, four miles through 
a neck of land. Since Christmas twelve miles 
of the canal has been cut, ninety feet wide and 
twelve feet deep. This work, which is to be 
completed by next mid-summer, is of no little 
interest to a great many readers of Forest and 
Stream, as through it boats will pass between 
New York and the South, and there will be a 
saving of 120 to 150 miles, not to speak of 
safety. This week a survey for waterway route 
south from Beaufort was run and engineering- 
officers say a good one with a minimum amount 
of excavation will be found all the way to a 
point near Wilmington, N. C., and then south¬ 
ward. 
Work is also in progress at the northern end, 
through fresh water, along Adam’s Creek, the 
bends being cut off and the canal made straight. 
The engineers find that there are several layers 
of forest growth superinposed, these including 
growth just removed from the surface, some 
of it of great size and an old growth of pines. 
Below this gum stumps and lowest of all a 
growth of gigantic cypress trees ten and eleven 
feet in diameter. 
Large numbers of fine Spanish mackerel, 
bluefish and gray trout are being taken by troll¬ 
ing and in deep water. During the past few 
years rods have come to be used, taking the 
place of hand lines. The trolling is done in 
sharpies, these boats having been first brought 
from New England in 1876 and having quickly 
driven all clinker-built boats away, so that none 
are now in use. 
The gulls, so many years absent from Beau¬ 
fort waters, driven away by the plume hunters, 
are coming back to their own again and num¬ 
bers of herons, including very fine white ones, 
were observed here and there, some very near 
the town. No shooting of any kind was heard 
of. There are a few small colonies of birds 
at beach rookeries. Fred A. Olds. 
Col. Thomas and the Silver-Gray Fo> 
Colonel Thomas, a veteran of the Civil Wa: 
was one of the company of fox hunters, c 
which I also was a member. Being permanentl 
disabled by an injury received while in th 
service, this good man was able to walk onl 
with extreme difficulty. 
It fell to my lot, most agreeably, to conduc 
the Colonel to such shooting stands as Colons 
Ryder considered the most desirable. This 
did in an old and rickety wagon; and as I knei 
the ground as well as Colonel Ryder himsel 
having been previously taken over it man 
times by him, I did not fail to place Colons 
Thomas at the right place at the right tim< 
as the sequel will show. 
There was one especial spot above all other 
in the Orleans woods, which Ryder had tol 
me was the best stand that he knew of to secur 
a shot at a fox. 
On the day in question I took Colons 
Thomas to that spot and told him where t 
stand, and be on the alert. As for myself, 
drove off, as fast as possible, in order to giv 
the Colonel a good chance to secure the fo 
if started, as he had never yet, when out wit 
the company, had an opportunity to try hi 
marksmanship on one of them. 
It was not long before the dogs, headed b 
old Sport, sung out on a start; and from tb 
clamor, every moment coming nearer t 
Colonel Thomas, it was evident that Reynar 
was coming his way and would probably giv 
him a shot. I had not long to wait, and presen 
ly I heard a shot and then another, and then 
shout from Colonel Thomas. I turned in 
wagon as quickly as possible, and with a goo: 
cut of the whip, I sent the horse spinning dow 
the wood road toward the spot where I haj 
stationed the Colonel. Upon arriving there 
found him leaning upon his gun, the fox at hi 
feet, and the pack of hounds in a circle aboil 
him. On seeing me, he caught up the fox, arj 
showing it to me, I said that it was a blad 
or silver-gray fox, and the only one that I evi 
knew to be captured on the Cape. T 1 
Colonel was overjoyed at his succes, and ; 
was I. By placing the Colonel on this stand, 
had put an end to my own opportunity to secu 
a shot, and the Colonel never forgot this. 
After the rest of the party came up with u- 
we turned homeward, for the capture of a gr; 
fox was a greater triumph than that of We 
ington’s at Waterloo. 
Arriving at Chandler’s Hotel, Colonel Ryd 
at once put up the whole place at auction. T 1 
hotel, land, outbuildings, fixtures and suppli 
were all sold in a very short space of time; ai 
all bought up by the company, to the gre 
admiration of the good people of Orleans. 
I bought myself the old grandfather’s cloi 
which had been brought from England ai 
originally located at Provincetown, from whu 
burg it had gradually found its way nearer 
the hub of the universe by being set in 01 
corner of the dining room of the White Hou 
at Orleans. Deacon Chandler, the propriety 
was a crank on old clocks. He had three 
them placed in three corners of his office; b 
the one which I purchased was stationed in t 
dining room. It was not running, and I ask 
Chandler what he would take for it. To ® 
surprise, he said, “Five dollars.” I took him v 
