the various weathering forces of the dry climate
on the different strata of sandstones, clays, and marls.
Isolated columns shoot up into the air, bearing on their
summits flat rocks like tables; square buttes tower high
above surrounding depressions, which are so cut up by
twisting gullies and low ridges as to be almost impassable;
shelving masses of sandstone jut out over the sides of the
cliffs; some of the ridges, with perfectly perpendicular
sides, are so worn away that they stand up like gigantic
knife-blades; and gulches, wash-outs, and canyons dig out
the sides of each butte, while between them are thrust out
long spurs, with sharp, ragged tops.

They hunted through the broken country on foot. Up the slippery,
ice-covered buttes they climbed, working their way across the faces of
the cliffs or cautiously groping along narrow ledges, peering long and
carefully over every crest. But they found no sheep. The cold was
intense and they were glad when, at sunset, they reached the cabin,
which was to be their headquarters. George Myers had already arrived.

It was a bitter night, and through the chinks of the crazy old hut it
invaded their shelter, defying any fire which they could build.

By the time the first streak of dawn had dimmed the brilliancy of the
stars, the hunters were under way. Their horses had proved a bother
the day before, and they were afoot, striding briskly through the
bitter cold to where the great bulk of Middle Butte loomed against the
sunrise. They hunted carefully through the outlying foothills and
toiled laboriously up the steep sides to the level top. It was a
difficult piece of mountaineering, for the edges of the cliffs had
become round and slippery with the ice, and it was no easy task to
move up and along them, clutching the gun in one hand and grasping
each little projection with the other. That day again they found no
sheep.

Hour by hour the cold grew more intense. All signs indicated a
blizzard.

The air was thick and hazy as Roosevelt and Merrifield early next
morning reached the distant hills where they intended that day to make
their hunt. Off in the northwest a towering mass of grayish-white
clouds hung, threatening trouble. The region was, if anything, even
wilder and more difficult than the country they had hunted through on
the two previous days. The ice made the footing perilous, and in the
cold thin air every quick