Very cautiously he shifted his position.  There, not fifty feet distant upon a high mound of lava, stood the leader of the sheep.  His size astounded Gale.  He seemed all horns.  But only for a moment did the impression of horns overbalancing body remain with Gale.  The sheep was graceful, sinewy, slender, powerfully built, and in poise magnificent.  As Gale watched, spellbound, the second ram leaped lightly upon the mound, and presently the three others did likewise.

Then, indeed, Gale feasted his eyes with a spectacle for a hunter.  It came to him suddenly that there had been something he expected to see in this Rocky Mountain bighorn, and it was lacking.  They were beautiful, as wonderful as even Ladd’s encomiums had led him to suppose.  He thought perhaps it was the contrast these soft, sleek, short-furred, graceful animals afforded to what he imagined the barren, terrible lava mountains might develop.

The splendid leader stepped closer, his round, protruding amber eyes, which Gale could now plainly see, intent upon that fatal red flag.  Like automatons the other four crowded into his tracks.  A few little slow steps, then the leader halted.

At this instant Gale’s absorbed attention was directed by Yaqui to the rifle, and so to the purpose of 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