Jack the Young Trapper: An Eastern Boy's Fur Hunting in the Rocky Mountains

by George Bird Grinnell

"Well, you'll see it to-morrow morning, unless you pull out mighty early."

"I hope we won't," said Henry; "I shall ask my father to lie over here to-morrow if he feels like it. How long are you going to be here?"

"Oh, well," said Jack, "of course, I don't know about that. It'll depend on what luck we have trapping. If we have any luck, we may be up here for several days, if not, we may go on. We were talking about going up to the head of the stream and perhaps hunting there for a day or two. There ought to be sheep up there."

"Sheep," said Henry. "What are those?"

"Why," said Jack, "don't you know the wild mountain sheep?"

"Those fellows that have the big horns? You mean bighorns?" said Henry.

"Yes, sometimes they are called bighorns."

"I know, I know," said the English boy; "I saw some heads in Denver, but I never supposed that we could get anywhere near where they lived."

"Well," said Jack, "there are plenty of them in these mountains, I guess; in fact, there is lots of game here. Only this morning Hugh ran across a little bunch of cow elk only two or three hundred yards from the camp."

"Is it possible!" said Henry. "We've seen lots of antelope on the prairie, and I shot at them a good many times, but I could not seem to hit them. I don't know why."