400 
FOREST AND S T R E A M 
July, 1918 
AMONG THE WHITE SHEEP OF THE NORTH 
THE TIME HONORED DRAMA OF THE CHASE OF THE KEN AI WILD 
SHEEP IS BROUGHT IN THE FINAL CHAPTER TO A SUCCESSFUL ENDING 
By JOHN P. HOLMAN 
a little upland pasture above the cliffs where 
we had seen the sheep which Andy and 
Mackay were probably stalking, we were 
astonished by the sight of two large rams 
lying down on a grassy knoll about a thous¬ 
and yards below us. How we wished 
that we could get some word to Mackay, 
but we could not do it without disturbing 
the rams, so we sat quietly watching them. 
They looked for all the world like marble 
statues, pure w'hite against the dark rocks 
behind. In a few moments we saw a head 
appear above a little saddle about three 
hundred yards away from the rams in a 
line with us, and a little later we made 
out the forms of Andy and Mackay. They 
had seen the big rams after all and were 
very busy stalking them. From our seat 
at the edge of the pocket we had a wonder¬ 
ful view of the whole affair. 
W HEN the first faint light of dawn 
spread over the valley the next 
morning and Walter had started 
the little sticks a-cracking in the stove. 
Andy stole out with his glasses again and 
the edge of a ridge and a little later the 
sun broke through and the fog began to 
drift away. We had a vision of dim peaks 
beyond, glittering marble white against the 
sky and heard the sound of the rushing 
waters of the Killey far below, hushed to 
a low moan. The sharp winds of the 
lonely peaks swept crying about our ears 
as we crept along over the jagged rocks. 
Always we saw sheep on the slopes beyond 
the river. We watched one band of ewes 
and lambs cropping the grass in a little 
mountain meadow, and a troop of six rams 
M EANWHILE the hunters crawled 
from one ravine to another, keep¬ 
ing well hidden behind the benches, 
and rapidly reducing the distance until 
finally both the sheep and the hunters were 
within the radius of our glasses and our 
interest became intense. Every once in 
awhile Mackay would raise his gun as if 
to shoot and then lower it as he saw that 
he could gain a closer position. Finally 
he crawled forward and took a long, steady 
aim. At the crack of the rifle the ram 
that had been so restless jumped forward 
and rolled over on his side while his com¬ 
panion ran directly toward Mackay and 
stood on a pinnacle of rock quite near them, 
making a wonderful target, before he 
turned again and disappeared up a draw 
Past the little lake on the home trail, with heavy packs and light hearts 
filing across a snow patch so far away that 
they seemed almost mythical—like ghosts 
of sheep haunting the range of yesterday. 
As we came over a little rise overlooking 
to the left. We saw the excited huntersi 
'eap forward and shake hands over the last; 
sneep of the hunt. “It was as good as a 
movie,” said Ben when it was all over. 
We saw the fog shutting down over the higher peaks and sought shelter 
saw that the sheep were still there. We 
all rolled out of our sleeping bags in short 
order, and having at last stowed away 
enough of the wonderful flap jacks Walter 
was busy making, we were ready for the 
morning’s climb. Ben and I had planned 
to hunt the higher slopes for bear so we 
accompanied the sheep hunters to the first 
plateau. Mackay, intent on the quest of 
his third ram, climbed rapidly ahead while 
Ben and I took things a little easier and 
were rewarded for our deliberation. While 
resting along the way we spied a cow-moose 
followed closely by a calf, trotting along 
over a bench far below us. They came 
rapidly into view, evidently having been 
disturbed by some wolf or bear, the cow’s 
ears were shot out ahead to catch any un¬ 
toward sound and the little calf kept a 
keen eye on the back trail. They stopped 
suddenly when they came to our trail and 
swung around in an undecided manner, 
showing unmistakably that they had caught 
our scent. After going back a way they 
compromised and chose the middle ground 
between two dangers, trotting off over a 
bench at a right angle to their former 
direction. It was strange to see moose so 
far above its usual range, but the Kenai 
species seem to prefer the high plateaus 
at this time of year. 
Fog suddenly shut down over everything; 
it had been hanging about the higher peaks 
all morning, so we sought the shelter of 
some rocks out of the dampness and smok<=d 
in silence for awhile, hoping that the mist 
would lift and allow us to continue our 
hunt. After awhile we crept forward along 
