gorges and gloomy pockets of the hills. He has nearsighted eyes. If a man stands motionless it is difficult for a bear to distinguish man from stump. He may hear a sound which warns him—but if he catches one least whiff of scent he knows!
Out above the timberline the mountain sheep beds down upon some dizzy pinnacle, sweeps the hills with his telescopic eye and defies his enemies to approach unseen. Scent seems to mean little to him and sound evidently means nothing at all. Some men claim that the constant falling of storm-loosened rocks among his native peaks has rendered him careless of sound, that each noise is attributed to the clatter of a rolling stone. Others assert that the battering, smashing fights between ram and ram in the running moon shatter the ear drums and deafen them. Either may be true. The fact remains that the hearing of ewes is better than that of rams.
The girl thought of these things as she located each new kind with the glasses. She saw Flash staring steadily at the face of the cliff behind. Three rams were moving along the sheer wall. It seemed impossible that even a lizard could cling to it. Not even a wolf, lithe and active as he is, can follow the bighorn sheep and it is a question
