the climb. A little cold shock
affronted Gale's vivid pleasure. With it dawned a realization of what
he had imagined was lacking in these animals. They did not look wild!
The so-called wildest of wild creatures appeared tamer than sheep he
had followed on a farm. It would be little less than murder to kill
them. Gale regretted the need of slaughter. Nevertheless, he could not
resist the desire to show himself and see how tame they really were.

He reached for the .405, and as he threw a shell into the chamber the
slight metallic click made the sheep jump. Then Gale rose quickly to
his feet.

The noble ram and his band simply stared at Gale. They had never seen
a man. They showed not the slightest indication of instinctive fear.
Curiosity, surprise, even friendliness, seemed to mark their attitude
of attention. Gale imagined that they were going to step still closer.
He did not choose to wait to see if this were true. Certainly it
already took a grim resolution to raise the heavy .405.

His shot killed the big leader. The others bounded away with
remarkable nimbleness. Gale used up the remaining four shells to drop
the second ram, and by the time he had reloaded the others were out of
range.

The Yaqui's method of hunting was sure and deadly and saving of energy,
but Gale never would try it again. He chose to stalk the game. This
entailed a great expenditure of strength, the eyes and lungs of a
mountaineer, and, as Gale put it to Ladd, the need of seven-league
boots. After being hunted a few times and shot at, the sheep became
exceedingly difficult to approach. Gale learned to know that their
fame as the keenest-eyed of all animals was well founded. If he worked
directly toward a flock, crawling over the sharp lava, always a
sentinel ram espied him before he got within range. The only method of
attack that he found successful was to locate sheep with his glass,
work round to windward of them, and then, getting behind a ridge or
buttress, crawl like a lizard to a vantage point. He failed often.
The stalk called forth all that was in him of endurance, cunning,
speed. As the days grew hotter he hunted in the early morning hours and
a while before the sun went down. More than one night he lay out on
the lava, with the great stars close overhead and the immense void all
beneath him. This pursuit he learned to love. Upon those scarred and
blasted slopes the wild spirit that was in him had free rein.