eard," said Uncle Dick, "but I'm willing to take my chances
with flour and bacon."

"Well, now," said Rob, "if there are goats in here I'd like awfully
well to try to photograph one, at least. They tell me they're so dull
and stupid you can go right up on them."

"I'm not so sure about their being stupid," replied Uncle Dick. "I
think it's more likely that they just are not afraid of anything. A
big billy will kill any dog in the world, and some hunters declare
that they will even fight a grizzly bear. Their little black horns are
sharp as needles, and they can hit a hard blow with that neck of
theirs, backed by a couple of hundred pounds of bone and muscle.

"Whatever a goat may be as to wisdom, he won't run away, and you can
never hurry him. A bighorn will run for miles if he smells or sees
you, but if a goat sees you he'll take his own time, stop and look at
you, and then go off as slowly as he likes. If you get too close to
him, he may stop and stamp his feet, and work his lips at you, and
show he's angry. But he'll never show he is scared. That's why they
are so easy to kill, once you climb up where they are. That ought to
make them easy to photograph, too, Rob. I should say there were ten
chances to get a goat photograph to one of the bighorn."

"Do you suppose there are any around here?" inquired Jesse.

"Plenty of them on old Yellowhead Mountain, right here above us."

"Well, why not have a hunt, then?"

Uncle Dick threw up his hands. "Now, there you go again, always
wanting to stop to fish or hunt! I've told you that we ought to hurry
on through."

"Well, just one day!" argued John.

Uncle Dick sighed. "Well," said he, "we ought to be glad you're not
drowned, John. And I suppose you think we ought to make some sacrifice
on that account? Well, all right. If you promise to be contented with
one day's hunt, and to start out to-morrow morning and keep on the
trail until we strike the Tete Jaune Cache, I'll agree to go with you
to-day. The fact is, I wouldn't mind stretching my own legs a little
bit, for I'm cramped with saddle work. But I warn you it's a stiff
pull up that mountain there."

"Shall we just go to photograph?" asked Rob, "or shall we take the
rifle?"

"As you like, for this is British Columbia here, and I've a license
for each of you to shoot game as needed. But we only want one goat, so
we don't need to take more than one rifle. And it really is hard
climbing."

"Let me take my camera