tand on the brink and experience the sensation of looking down from
that great height at the river. The face of the wall where it
terminates at the top forms an almost square corner, as if hewn stone.
A few bushes grew a short distance from the edge, and as we approached
the brink there was a sense of greater safety in holding onto these
bushes. But while holding on we could not see quite over to the water
below. We formed a chain of three persons, by joining hands, one
grasping a large bush, that the outer man might look over the edge--if
he would. But he felt shaky. He was not quite sure that the bush would
not pull up by the roots, or one of the other fellows let go. For
sometime no one was willing to make a real effort to look over the
edge, but finally "Jack" said he would save the party's reputation
for bravery, by assuming the role of end-man. He made several bold
approaches toward the edge, but each time recoiled, and soon admitted
defeat. "Boys," said he, "I'm dizzy. I know that 'distance lends
enchantment'; I'll get back farther, take the best view I can get, and
preserve the enchantment." To cover his discomfiture, he started for
camp, whistling:

"Ulee, ilee, aloo, ee."

The next excursion off the route in search of novelty was on a clear
afternoon a few days after passing the "Devil's Gate," when three
young fellows decided to take a tramp to the rock ridge lying to our
right. We hoped to find some mountain sheep. From the Sweetwater River
to the ridge was apparently half a mile, across a grassy flat. We knew
that the rare atmosphere of that high altitude often made distances
deceiving, and determined to make due allowances. Having crossed the
river and being ready for a sprint, each made a guess of the distance
to the foot of the rock ridge. The estimates varied from two hundred
yards to three hundred. Off we went, counting paces. At the end of
three hundred we appeared to be no nearer the goal than when we
started. The guesses were repeated, and when we were about completing
the second course of stepping, making nearly six hundred yards in all,
one of the boys espied a mountain sheep on the top of the ridge,
keeping lookout, probably, for the benefit of his fellows, feeding on
the other side, as is the habit of these wary creatures.

With head and great horns clearly outlined on the background of blue
sky, he was a tempting target. Without a word, the three of us leveled
guns and fired. Mr. Mou