The day was spent in the river bottom, all the horses being allowed to feed at liberty, except one which was picketed. A few hours before sunset they packed up and travelled north for two or three hours stopping to camp for the night on the banks of a little stream which flowed into the Yellowstone River. This valley was narrow, and on either side high bad-land bluffs rose to the prairie above, which was dry and already brown, though mid-summer was not yet here. That night they had a long rest, making up then for the many hours of night travelling and day watching which they had undergone during the last week.
As usual, Hugh was the first to turn out of his blankets; that is to say, he was the first to awake and sit up, but before he had freed himself from the coverings, he saw across the narrow valley, and just below the top of the bluffs, something that made him call Jack sharply, but in a low tone of voice. Standing on the bare earth, and scarcely to be distinguished from it, except by the dark shadows which they cast, were three great mountain rams, splendid with their stout curling horns, looking curiously at the horses feeding below them.
"Wake up, son, quick!" said he, "there's your chance; you'll never get a better shot at sheep than that."
Awakened from his sound sleep, Jack hardly understood what was said, but the word, sheep, caught his ear, and he flew up suddenly to a sitting posture, like a Jack springing out of its box.
"Not too quick," said Hugh; "easy now; don't lose your head. Where's your gun and cartridges? You want to kill one of them rams, and not leave me to try to do it, just as they're jumping over the ridge. Take the middle one, he's the biggest, and shoot a little high on him; it's over a hundred yards, maybe a hundred and twenty-five; aim just above the point of his breast, and hold steady; if you make a line shot you're sure to get him."
The biggest ram was standing with his head toward them, and his hips a little higher than his shoulders. The other two stood quartering, one up and one down the valley, and any one of the three offered a fair shot for an ordinary rifleman. Jack drew his gun out from beneath his blankets, loaded it, and drawing up his knees, and resting his elbow on one of them, drew a careful bead at the point named by Hugh, and fired. At the report, the ram shot at gave a long bound down the hill, and then stood for an instant. The other two had each sprung into the air, and now all three turned and began to climb the hill, the two smaller ones at a gallop, the other walking.
"Shall I shoot again, Hugh?" said Jack, much excited.
Hugh still sat with his blankets around his legs, and a smile on his face, as he answered, "I don't believe I'd waste another cartridge; he'll do us for quite a ways yet."
As he spoke the last ram turned off to one side, and disappeared behind a little ridge on the shoulder of the bluff.