With the aid of his glass Gale saw five sheep.  They were much larger than he had expected, dull brown in color, and two of them were rams with great curved horns.  They were looking in his direction.  Remembering what he had heard about the wonderful eyesight of these mountain animals, Gale could only conclude that they had seen the hunters.

Then Yaqui’s movements attracted and interested him.  The Indian had brought with him a red scarf and a mesquite branch.  He tied the scarf to the stick, and propped this up in a crack of the lava.  The scarf waved in the wind.  That done, the Indian bade Gale watch.

Once again he leveled the glass at the sheep.  All five were motionless, standing like statues, heads pointed across the gully.  They were more than a mile distant.  When Gale looked without his glass they merged into the roughness of the lava.  He was intensely interested.  Did the sheep see the red scarf?  It seemed incredible, but nothing else could account for that statuesque alertness.  The sheep held this rigid position for perhaps fifteen minutes.  Then the leading ram started to approach.  The others followed.  He took a few steps, then halted.  Always he held his head up, nose pointed.

“By George, they’re coming!” exclaimed Gale.  “They see that flag.  They’re hunting us.  They’re curious.  If this doesn’t beat me!”

Evidently the Indian understood, for he grunted.

Gale found difficulty in curbing his impatience.  The approach of the sheep was slow.  The advances of the leader and the intervals of watching had a singular regularity.  He worked like a machine.  Gale followed him down the opposite wall, around holes, across gullies, over ridges.  Then Gale shifted the glass back to find the others.  They were coming also, with exactly the same pace and pause of their leader.  What steppers they were!  How sure-footed!  What leaps they made!  It was thrilling to watch them.  Gale forgot he had a rifle.  The Yaqui pressed a heavy hand down upon his shoulder.  He was to keep well hidden and to be quiet.  Gale suddenly conceived the idea that the sheep might come clear across to investigate the puzzling red thing fluttering in the breeze.  Strange, indeed, would that be for the wildest creatures in the world.

The big ram led on with the same regular persistence, and in half an hour’s time he was in the bottom of the great gulf, and soon he was facing up the slope.  Gale knew then that the alluring scarf had fascinated him.  It was no longer necessary now for Gale to use his glass.  There was a short period when an intervening crest of lava hid the sheep from view.  After that the two rams and their smaller followers were plainly in sight for perhaps a quarter of an hour.  Then they disappeared behind another ridge.  Gale kept watching sure they would come out farther on.  A tense period of waiting passed, then a suddenly electrifying pressure of Yaqui’s hand made Gale tremble with excitement.