"And I'm real glad, too, you didn't fire," admitted Smithy, who had turned somewhat white during the minute of dreadful suspense, while he stared at that monster squatted in their path. "I was ready to back you up; but then what could you expect from a greenhorn? I never wished so much that I'd taken to this sort of thing before, as I did when that fearful beast was looking at me, just as if to say, 'you're the tenderest of the lot, Smithy, and I think I'll choose you, if I have room for any more inside me.'"
The other boys laughed at his words; but on the whole they thought Smithy had carried himself rather creditably, all things considered. And each knew, deep down in his secret soul, that his own heart had seemed to stand still; while his blood ran cold, as he stood there, awaiting the decision of the bear.
They glanced around rather fearfully for some little time after that; but as nothing was seen again of the mountain terror, they finally concluded that the incident was closed.
Again their thoughts went out toward the singular game they had come after. Many an ambitious hunter had sought to shoot a big-horn sheep in the Rockies, day after day, and was compelled to give it up in the end as useless, so Toby had informed them. The conditions were generally very difficult, and the game so shy. Besides, their sense of impending danger seemed to be abnormally developed; and on account of the rocky formation of the slopes where they found bunches of grass in the crevices, it was often next to impossible to stalk them from leeward.
This being the case the tired boys were thrilled to the core when Toby finally announced that he had had a glimpse of the game. Of course they became wildly excited, and demanded that he show them. Creeping carefully up to a certain outcropping rock, they peered around its edge. And for the first time in their lives Davy, Step Hen and Smithy found themselves looking upon the queer animals that seem to live in the wildest parts of the Rockies, taking delight in bounding from crag to crag, and baffling the skill of the most experienced chamois hunters to get within gun-shot of their lofty eyries.
There were seven or eight of the sheep, and as they were really just within gun range the boys could get a splendid view of them. They admired the tremendous curved horns greatly, and Step Hen quivered with eagerness to say that he had shot a Rocky Mountain sheep all by himself; while Davy clicked his camera several times, so that he at least might have a picture, in case they could get no nearer.
"I can't be sure of even hitting one from here," whispered Step Hen, turning appealingly to the guide. "Ain't it possible to creep up closer, Toby? Oh! please fix it for us, won't you?" just as though the guide had it in his power to do anything they wanted.
But fortunately the lay of the mountain allowed Toby to arrange it; and he soon mapped out a route that they might crawl along, keeping well hidden from the feeding sheep, and getting gradually closer.
Besides, it happened that luck was working overtime in their favor; because the animals happened to be feeding toward them. Now only two or three could be seen, nibbling at the tufts of grass, or leaping across some small fissure that tried to block them from other tempting pastures; and then again the whole seven would be in sight at the same moment.
After advancing slowly and carefully for some time Toby made motions that they dare not go any further. He also let them know by signs that, as the sheep were still coming in a line toward them, all they had to do was to lie quiet, and wait until the right moment.