emaining large ram and the second smaller one
went to the right. The latter were instantly hidden from view, for the
mountain side was very rough and broken and covered with large slide
rock. I raced in the same direction, knowing well that they would work
up hill. But hurrying over such ground is rather dangerous work.

Soon the two sheep came into view, offering a pretty quartering shot at
a little under a hundred yards. The old ram fell to my first bullet, and
I allowed the smaller one to go and grow up, and I hope offer good sport
to some persevering sportsman five years hence.

While Hunter climbed down and skinned out the heads I turned in pursuit
of the one which I had first fired at, for we both thought he had been
hit, having seen hair fly. I soon located him in the distance, but he
showed no signs of a bad wound, and as his head was small I was truly
glad that my shot had only grazed him. Both the rams which I killed
carried excellent heads with unbroken points, and we were safely back in
camp with the trophies shortly after two o'clock that afternoon--an easy
and a pleasant day.

The larger ram measured 13-1/4 inches around the base of the horns, and
37-7/8 inches along the outer curves. These were the longest horns of
the _Ovis dalli_ that I killed. The other ram measured 13 inches
around the horns and 34-1/2 inches along the outer curve.

[Illustration: MY BEST HEAD]

While we were having tea that afternoon, we chanced to look up on the
hills, and there, near the crest of the ridge, was one of the small rams
from the bunch we had stalked that morning. He offered a very easy
chance had I wanted his head. It is worthy of note that these sheep
seem to have no fear of the smell of blood or dead comrades, and on
several occasions I have observed them near the carcass of some ram
which I had shot.

The next day opened perceptibly cooler, and the angry clouds overhead
told us to beware of a coming storm. As I now had seven heads, five of
which were very handsome trophies, I concluded to take Hunter's advice
and leave the high hills.

Our sheep shooting for the year was now practically over. Had the
weather been fine it would have been an ideal trip; but with the
exception of the third and thirteenth of September every day passed upon
the mountains was not only disagreeable, but with conditions so
unfavorable that it had been almost impossible to stalk our game
properly, for when I had been once wet to the