mberline, and the grouse that had migrated up the slopes to winter,
below it, and accounted for the death of many. One moonlit night, as I
prowled upward, I heard an unearthly, uncanny squall. I couldn't help
the shiver that ran down my spine. All the pent-up anguish and torment
in the world broke forth in that sound. But perhaps it was only his
foxy protest because his prey had outfoxed him.

But by far the most interesting mountain-top dwellers were the Bighorn
sheep, which adopted those frigid regions as a winter resort. I had
often wondered about those lofty-minded animals I had tracked over in
the Wild Basin country. Were they still on those wind-blown heights?
It seemed incredible that they could stand a whole winter of such
bitter buffeting. Yet, on the days when I climbed above the
timberline, no matter the weather, they were always there, contentedly
feeding on the sweet, early-cured tufts of grass that the raging alpine
gales kept uncovered. It was fascinating to watch them; neither wild
winds nor blinding snow seemed to disconcert them; their thick wool
coats were impervious to the keenest, most penetrating blasts. True,
on terribly stormy days they sought the shelter of giant upthrusts of
rock, towering cliffs or sky-piercing spires that faced eastward, away
from the prevailing winds. There they probably stayed for days at a
time, as long as the worst storms prevailed. Such days I did not dare
venture upon the heights, but I often found signs of their bedding down
among similar crags.

And such nerveless or nervy creatures as they were! From the top of a
cliff, one day, I watched a band of them go down a nearly perpendicular
wall. I could not follow, though I did go part way down to where the
wall bulged outward. There the ledges had crumbled away, leaving
sheer, smooth rock. It did not seem possible that anything could go
down that smooth face. But half a dozen sheep in succession made the
descent safely, as I watched, breathless, from above. They seemed to
defy the laws of gravitation in walking over the rim rock; for, instead
of tumbling headlong as I feared, they went skidding downward,
bouncing, side-stepping, twisting and angling across the wall like
coasters on snow; they could not stop their downward drop, but they
controlled their descent by making brakes of their feet, and taking
advantage of every small bump to retard their speed. By foot pressure
they steered their course for a