n going on.

In the more accessible ranges that stretch across the desert regions of
western Utah and Nevada, considerable numbers of Indians used to hunt in
company like packs of wolves, and being perfectly acquainted with the
topography of their hunting-grounds, and with the habits and instincts
of the game, they were pretty successful. On the tops of nearly every
one of the Nevada mountains that I have visited, I found small,
nest-like inclosures built of stones, in which, as I afterward learned,
one or more Indians would lie in wait while their companions scoured the
ridges below, knowing that the alarmed sheep would surely run to the
summit, and when they could be made to approach with the wind they were
shot at short range.

[Illustration: INDIANS HUNTING WILD SHEEP.]

Still larger bands of Indians used to make extensive hunts upon some
dominant mountain much frequented by the sheep, such as Mount Grant on
the Wassuck Range to the west of Walker Lake. On some particular spot,
favorably situated with reference to the well-known trails of the sheep,
they built a high-walled corral, with long guiding wings diverging from
the gateway; and into this inclosure they sometimes succeeded in driving
the noble game. Great numbers of Indians were of course required, more,
indeed, than they could usually muster, counting in squaws, children,
and all; they were compelled, therefore, to build rows of dummy hunters
out of stones, along the ridge-tops which they wished to prevent the
sheep from crossing. And, without discrediting the sagacity of the game,
these dummies were found effective; for, with a few live Indians moving
about excitedly among them, they could hardly be distinguished at a
little distance from men, by any one not in the secret. The whole
ridge-top then seemed to be alive with hunters.

The only animal that may fairly be regarded as a companion or rival of
the sheep is the so-called Rocky Mountain goat (_Aplocerus montana_,
Rich.), which, as its name indicates, is more antelope than goat. He,
too, is a brave and hardy climber, fearlessly crossing the wildest
summits, and braving the severest storms, but he is shaggy, short-legged,
and much less dignified in demeanor than the sheep. His jet-black horns
are only about five or six inches in length, and the long, white hair
with which he is covered obscures the expression of his limbs. I have
never yet seen a single specimen in the Sierra, though possibly a few