“No,” answered Jack, “I should think not, but, as you say, we don’t want it particularly. I’d rather have some sheep or even an elk. I expect there are some elk here, aren’t there? I saw some sign of them, as I thought, coming up.”
“Yes,” said Hugh, “I reckon there are elk here; not very many, but some. Maybe we can get to kill one before long.”
It was pleasant sitting there in the sun and watching the feeding goats, unsuspicious of danger. Suddenly, however, there was a movement in the group nearest the head of the valley and the animals began to walk quickly toward the heights and were soon climbing up over the snowbanks.
“There!” exclaimed Hugh, “I reckon some eddy of wind from us must have crept around and they have smelt us. Just see how they climb.”
“Yes,” said Jack, “and look at that little kid following its mother. It can’t go very fast and see how she stops and turns, and looks, and waits for it. That’s mighty pretty, I think.”
“Yes,” said Joe, “that’s nice. That’s the way the old ones always do unless they’re too badly scared. There, you see the little one has caught up, and now the mother goes on again.”
The disturbance among the first group of goats had started the others along the mountainside, and now all were clambering toward the high rocks. The men watched them, until they had passed over the snowbanks and reached the precipice, along which they ran, like flies on a wall, though of course the boys knew that there must be shelves wide enough for them to walk on. Soon, however, the sun sank behind the towering peak to the westward and the air grew chilly, and remounting their horses the travelers returned to camp.
“No mosquitoes to-night, Hugh,” said Jack.
“No,” answered Hugh, “I guess we’re safe.”
“White Bull,” said Joe, as they were sitting before the fire, “have you ever been up here before?”