Where Hunting Happens, Conservation Happens™
W. H. Osgood and Carl Rungius have both placed all their photographs at my disposal, and I must especially mention the interest of Mr. Rungius in making some illustrations for this book. No other artist has had the experiences that would make it possible for him to record so accurately the animal life of the Yukon region.
July 23 — The horses had disappeared, and Spahr and Gage consumed a long time looking for them, and finally found them not far away, standing perfectly still on a side hill. On Mike we put my blanket, a narrow piece of mosquito netting, the frying-pan, teapot, and a few provisions. Spahr rode Shorty and Gage and I walked to the divide. Arriving on top, four sheep were seen just below the crest of the spur above the place where the bear had been killed. They were two miles off, and appeared like white specks on the mountain; but even at that distance they had seen us and were nervous, bunching immediately and moving about with uncertainty. The glasses showed that they were rams and I quickly planned a stalk.
Going down into the ravine until out of their sight, I climbed to the foot of the cliffs, from where I could ascend the mountain on the west side near the peak and come out above them. In the broken rocks at the foot of the cliffs were numerous marmots which kept continually whistling, and I was fearful that they might alarm the rams. The surface for two hundred yards, reaching to a point not far from the top, consisted of small, loose, broken rock, over which I had to proceed with the greatest caution, as the rams were very near on the other side of the crest. It was a very steep slope and unless I carefully chose my footing, the rock would slide and fall, making much noise. In such places moccasins are superior to all other footgear. I could carefully feel the surface with my big toe, and at the right spot wedge the toes in the uneven spaces in a manner not possible with stiff soles. Besides, the moccasins were noiseless on hard rock. The rock slide was crossed successfully to a grassy space up which I went more rapidly to the peak, paying no attention to the wind, which was blowing directly from me to the rams. Going slightly to the right and descending a little, I looked below, but did not see them. As I was cautiously retreating to look over the other side, the horns of the rams were suddenly seen on the sky-line just below the peak and not fifty feet away.
At the same moment the sheep ran and I fired at one, which came in sight for an instant, but evidently shot over it. Running forward, I saw them rushing across the saddle, a ram of good size behind three smaller ones. Quickly seating myself and aiming at the larger ram as he was running, now two hundred yards away, I fired and he suddenly left the others, continued a few yards down the slope and dropped dead. The others had now crossed the saddle, ascended fifty yards more, and stood looking back for a few moments before they again ran and disappeared along the broken slopes. All this was within six hundred yards of the spot where I had killed the bear. The ram lay a hundred yards below, stretched out at the head of a snow-bank, down which I pulled him to the bare ground and drew out the entrails, while Gage and Spahr, who had witnessed the whole stalk, were coming up with the horses. We loaded the ram on Mike, and Spahr immediately started with him for camp. I was delighted to send a whole ram to Rungius, who could now study and sketch it in the flesh. He was a fine ram with seven rings; his horns were of the spreading type, twenty-five inches from tip to tip.
From this point Gage and I went to timber-line at the lower end of the divide and made camp, after which he returned to the main camp leaving me alone. A piece of mutton was soon cooked and with crackers and tea, made my supper. Two willow sticks were bent in the form of a bow and placed parallel, ten inches apart with the ends thrust in the ground, so that a small piece of mosquito netting could be hung on them to cover my head while sleeping, for the mosquitoes were particularly numerous here, perhaps worse than at any other point near the divide.
But it was a beautiful spot, in an undisturbed wilderness. The sun had gone down and the sky was aglow. The landscape in front was seen between the spruces. How many times in after years I have felt the beauty of beholding mountains and far distant vistas through spruces whose graceful tops, like sharp pointed spires, lined the near horizon. Down through the deep descending valley, clothed with willows and evergreens, bordered on both sides by high mountains, I could see the broad meadow-lands and the dim mountain ranges beyond.
At last, rolling under the blanket and arranging my head under the netting, I was quickly hummed to sleep by the disappointed mosquitoes. But the protection did not last long and all night I kept rearranging the netting unsuccessfully.
…For several days I had tramped many miles and had climbed high mountains in search of rams, and was somewhat doubtful of finding other big rams before we must depart; hence, the next day, I decided to hunt the ranges east of Coal Creek, below the forks.
"The wildlife and its habitat cannot speak. So we must and we will."
-Theodore Roosevelt