"What is that moving up yonder, Mr. Mabie? There! Look! I declare if it didn't jump straight across from that high rock to the other! Is that a Rocky Mountain sheep, sir?" he asked.
"Just what it is, my lad; and if you feel inclined, there is a chance for you to get a shot at it," came the quick reply.
"I would like it, first rate," declared Frank,
immediately changing his rifle from his back to his hands.
"All right, then. Listen, and I'll tell you how it may be done. We'll rest our horses right here, for the last climb over this rough ridge to the bank of the swift river lying between. You drop down here and make your way along until you can get a chance to shoot. It will be a long shot, remember, so make allowances; and the wind is with you, not against you."
"I'll try my best, sir," said Frank, slipping off his horse.
"Be very careful as you crawl along, for a slip might cost you your life," were the last words he heard the stockman say as he began to descend the little declivity in order to make his way along its base, so as to remain concealed from the quarry.
Frank was careful as well as quick in his movements. Again and again he peeped out to see what the mountain sheep was doing. So far as he could learn, the animal seemed to be centering its attention on the caravan that had halted. Three times it moved its position, and once he was just in time to see it make a most dazzling leap, which he hoped Will might have caught with his quick-action lens.
Finally, having gained a place where he had
a fine view of the animal standing there across the gorge, Frank sank down so as to get a good aim. Not quite satisfied, he crawled forward a little further, and then proceeded to put his fortune to the test.