When all the straggling baidarkas had caught up and taken their places in the line, the chief gave the word _Kedar_ ("Come on"), and we all paddled forward, and just as the sun was rising above the hills we reached our journey's end.

Two days later my friend joined me. He also had been successful, and had killed a good sized male bear in Little Uganuk Bay on Kadiak Island.

Our bear hunt was now over, and we had been fortunate in accomplishing all we had hoped for.

IV.

THE WHITE SHEEP OF KENAI PENINSULA

The last of July Blake and I sailed from the Kadiak Islands, and one week later were landed at the little settlement of Kenai, on the Kenai Peninsula.

The mountains of this region are unquestionably the finest big-game shooting grounds in North America at the present day. Here one may expect to find four different kinds of bears--black, two species of brown, and the Alaska grizzly--the largest of moose, and the Kenai form of the white sheep (_Ovis dalli_).

These hills lie back from the coast some thirty miles, and may be reached by one of several rivers. It takes a couple of days to ascend some of these streams, but we determined to select a country more difficult to enter, thinking it would be less often visited by the local native hunters. We therefore chose the mountains lying adjacent to the Kenai Lake--a district which it took from a week to ten days to reach.

On August 14, shortly after noon, we started up the river which was to lead us to our shooting grounds. One cannot oppose the great tides of Cook Inlet, and all plans are based on them. Therefore we did not leave until the flood, when we were carried up the stream some twelve miles--the tide limit--where we camped.

The next morning we were up at daylight, for at this point began the hard river work. There was much brush on the banks, but our natives proved themselves most expert in pa.s.sing the line, for from now on until we reached the lake our boats had to be towed against a swift current.

That day we made about eight miles, and camped shortly after five o'clock. It rained hard during the night, and the next morning broke cloudy. The river for the first two days wound through the lowlands, but from this point on the banks seemed higher and the current perceptibly swifter, while breaking water showed the presence of rocks under the surface. The country back from the stream began to be more rolling, and as the river occasionally made some bold bend the Kenai Mountains could be seen in the distance.

Again it rained hard during the night and continued well on into the next morning, so we made a late start, breaking camp at eight o'clock.

Spruce, alders, willows, and birch were the trees growing along the banks, and we now pa.s.sed through the country where the moose range during the summer months. Already the days had become perceptibly shorter, and there was also a feeling of fall in the air, for summer is not long in this lat.i.tude.

At this point in the river we encountered bad water, and all hands were constantly wet, while the natives were in the glacial stream up to their waists for hours at a time. Therefore we made but little progress. That night there was a heavy frost, and the next morning dawned bright and clear. The day was a repet.i.tion of the day before, and the natives were again obliged to wade with the tow-line most of the way. But they were a good-natured lot, and seemed to take their wetting as a matter of course. About ten o'clock the next morning we reached the Kenai Rapids, where the stream narrows and the water is extremely bad, for the current is very swift and the channel full of rocks. We navigated this place safely and came out into the smooth water beyond. Here we had tea and a good rest, for we felt that the hardest part of this tiresome journey was over. Above the rapids there are a few short stretches of less troubled water where the oars can be used; but these are few and far between, and one must count upon warping the boat from tide water to within two miles of the lake--an estimated distance of between thirty-five and forty miles.

We had hardly got started the following day before it began to rain heavily. We were soon wet to the skin and thoroughly chilled, but we kept on until late in the afternoon, when we camped in a small Indian cabin some three miles from the lake.

It stormed hard during the night with such heavy wind that we much feared that we should be unable to cross the lake the next day. In the morning, however, the wind had gone down, and we made an early start. Just before reaching the mouth of the river we sighted game for the first time. A cow moose with her calf were seen on the bank. They stood idly watching our boats for a short time, and then slowly ambled off into the brush.

Occasionally as the river had made some big bend we had been able to sight the mountains which were to be our shooting grounds. Day by day they had grown nearer and nearer, and finally, after one week of this toilsome travel, we glided from the river to the crescent-shaped lake, and they now rose close before us.

This range of hills with their rough and broken sides compares favorably in grandeur with the finest of Alaskan scenery. Half way up their slopes was a well defined timber line, and then came the stunted vegetation which the autumn frosts had softened into velvet browns in deep contrast to the occasional berry patches now tinged a brilliant crimson; and beyond, the great bleak, open tablelands of thick moss sloped gently upward to the mountain bases; and above all, the lofty peaks of dull gray rock towered in graceful curves until lost in the mist. Great banks of snow lay in many of the highest pa.s.ses, and over all the landscape the sun shone faintly through leaden and sombre storm clouds.

Such was my first near view of the Kenai Mountains, and, as I learned to know them better, they seemed to grow more awe-inspiring and beautiful.

When we reached Kenai Lake, Blake and I decided that it would probably be the wisest plan to divide things up into two separate shooting outfits. We could then push over the hills in different directions until we came upon the sheep. Each would then make his own shooting camp, and our natives would carry out the heads we might shoot to our united base of supplies on the lake, and pack back needed provisions.

At noon of August 22 Blake and outfit started for his shooting grounds at the eastern end of the sheep range, and shortly after my outfit was under way. My head man and the natives carried packs of some sixty pounds, while I carried about fifty pounds besides my rifle, gla.s.ses, and cartridges; even my dog Stereke had some thirty pounds of canned goods in a pack saddle.

Our first march led up the mountain over a fairly steep trail, a gale accompanied by rain meeting us as we came out from the timber on to the high mossy plateau. The wind swept down from the hills in great gusts, and our small tent tugged and pulled at its stakes until I greatly feared it would not stand the strain. It had moderated somewhat by the next morning, and we made an early start.

Our line of march, well above timber, led along the base of the summits for some miles, then swinging to the left we laboriously climbed over one range and dropped into the valley beyond. A strong wind made it hard going, and sometimes turned us completely around as it struck slanting upon the packs which we carried. During the day sheep were seen in the distance, but we did not stop, for we were anxious to reach before dark a place where Hunter--my head man--had usually made his hill camp. It must be remembered that at such an alt.i.tude there is very little fuel, and that good camping places are few and far between.

The next morning we were up early, intending to take our first hunt, but the small Killy River, on which we were now located, was much swollen by the heavy rains, and could not be crossed. We devoted the forenoon to bridging this stream, but during the afternoon a small bunch of sheep was sighted low down on the mountains, and I started with Hunter to see if it contained any good rams. We left camp about noon and reached the sheep in a little over an hour. There was one ram which I shot for meat, but unfortunately his head was smaller than I thought, and valueless as a trophy.

As sheep hunting in these hills is at best hard work, I decided to move the camp as high up as we could find wood and water. The next morning as we started on our first real hunt, we took the native with us, and after selecting a spot at the edge of the timber line, left him to bring up our camp to this place while my man and I continued over the mountains in search of rams. The day was dull and the wind was fortunately light.

After a stiff climb we came out upon a mossy tableland, intersected by several deep gulches, down which tumbled rapid glacial streams from many perpetual snow banks. Above this high plateau rose sharp and barren mountains which seemed but glacial heaps of jagged boulders and slide rock all covered with coa.r.s.e black moss or lichen, which is the only food of sheep during the winter months.

It is generally supposed that when the heavy snows of winter set in the sheep seek a lower level, but my guide insisted that they work higher and higher up the mountain sides, where the winds have swept the snow away, and they are able to get this coa.r.s.e but nourishing food.

The sky-line of these hills made a series of unbroken curves telling of the mighty power of the glaciers which once held this entire country in their crushing grasp.

We pa.s.sed over the great plateau, which even at this lat.i.tude was sprinkled generously with beautiful small wild flowers. Crossing gulch after gulch we continually worked higher and higher by a gradual and easy ascent.

We had been gone from camp but little over an hour, when, on approaching a small knoll, I caught sight of the white coat of a sheep just beyond.

At once dropping upon my hands and knees I crawled up and carefully peered over to the other side. We had unknowingly worked into the midst of a big band of ewes, lambs, and small rams. I counted twenty-seven on my left and twenty-five on my right, but among them all there was not a head worth shooting.

This was the first great band of white sheep I had seen, and I watched them at this close range with much interest. Soon a tell-tale eddy in the breeze gave them our scent, and they slowly moved away, not hurriedly nor in great alarm, but reminding me much of tame sheep, or deer in a park. Man was rather an unfamiliar animal to them, and his scent brought but little dread. From this time until darkness hid them, sheep were in plain view the entire day. In a short while I counted over one hundred ewes and lambs.

We worked over one range and around another with the great valley of the river lying at our feet, while beyond were chain upon chain of bleak and rugged mountains. Finally we came to a vast gulch supposed to be the home of the large rams. My men had hunted in this section two years before, and had never failed to find good heads here, but we now saw nothing worth stalking. By degrees we worked to the top of the gulch, and coming to the summit of the ridge paused, for at our feet was what at first appeared but a perpendicular precipice of jagged rock falling hundreds of feet. The clouds now lifted a bit and we could see below a vast circular valley with green gra.s.s and rapid glacial streams. On all sides it was hemmed in and guarded by mighty mountains with giant cliffs and vast slides of broken rocks reaching from the bottom to the very summits. Opposite was a great dull blue glacier from which the north fork of the Killy River belched forth, while other smaller glaciers and snow banks seemed kept in place only by granite barriers.

We seated ourselves on the brink of this great cliff and the gla.s.ses were at once in use. Soon Hunter saw rams, but they were so far below that even with my powerful binoculars it was impossible to tell more than that they carried larger heads than other sheep near them.

It was impossible to descend the cliff at the point where we then were, so we moved around, looking for a place where we might work down, and finally found one where it was possible to descend some fifty yards to a sort of shute. From where we were we could not see whether we should be able to make a still further descent, and if we did go down that far it would be an extremely difficult climb to get back, but we thought it probable that there would be slide rock at the other end of this shute, in which case the rest would be fairly easy.

Moving with the greatest caution, we finally reached the shute, and after a bit of bad climbing found the slide rock at the lower end as we had expected; but it took us a good two hours to get low enough to tell with the gla.s.ses how big were the horns the sheep carried.

There were eight rams in all. A bunch of three small ones about half a mile away, and just beyond them four with better heads, but still not good enough to shoot, and apart from these, a short distance up the mountain side, was a solitary ram which carried a really good head. The bunch of three was unfortunately between us and the big sheep, and it required careful stalking to get within distance of the one we sought. We knew very well that if we suddenly alarmed the three, and they rushed off, they, in turn, would alarm the four and also the big ram. When we were still at some distance we showed ourselves to the three, and they took the hint and wandered slowly up the mountain side. The others, although they had not seen us, became suspicious, so we remained crouched behind some rocks until they once more began to feed. The big ram now came down from his solitary position and pa.s.sed from view behind a ma.s.s of boulders near the remaining sheep.

The head of the ram which I had shot the day before was much smaller than I had supposed at the time. In order to avoid this in future I had asked Hunter to advise me in selecting only really good heads. My man, who now had the gla.s.ses, declared that the big sheep had not joined the bunch of four, and I must confess that I was also deceived.

Although the four had become suspicious from seeing the three go slowly up the cliff, still they had not made us out, and the wind remained favorable. Lying close only long enough for them to get over their uneasiness, we cautiously stalked up to within some two hundred yards. Again we used the gla.s.ses most carefully, but could not see the big ram. Suddenly the sheep became alarmed and started up the mountain. I expected each second to see the large ram come out from behind the boulders, and therefore withheld from shooting. But when he did not appear I turned my attention to the four which had paused and were looking down upon us from a rocky ridge nearly four hundred yards above. As they stood in bold relief against the black crags, I saw that one carried horns much larger than the others, and that it was the big ram. My only chance was to take this long shot. We had been crossing a snow bank at the time, and I settled myself, dug my heels well in, and with elbows resting on my knees took a steady aim. I was fortunate in judging the correct distance, for at the report of the rifle the big ram dropped, gave a few spasmodic kicks, and the next minute came rolling down the mountain side, tumbling over and over, and bringing with him a great shower of broken rocks. I feared that his head and horns would be ruined, but fortunately found them not only uninjured, but a most beautiful trophy. The horns taped a good 34 inches along the curve and 13-1/2 inches around the b.u.t.ts.

That night the weather changed, and thenceforth the mountains were constantly enveloped in mist, while it rained almost daily. These were most difficult conditions under which to hunt, for sheep have wonderful vision and can see a hunter through the mist long before they can be seen.

I was anxious to bring out as trophies only the finest heads, and daily refused chances which some might have gladly taken. If we could not plainly see with the naked eye horns at 300 to 400 yards, we always let the sheep pa.s.s, knowing that the head was small, but if at any time we could make out that a sheep carried a full turn to his horns, we knew that the head was well matured. If we saw a sheep facing us we could always tell when the horns made a full turn, for then the tips curved outward.

A week after killing the big ram we again visited the great basin, but found nothing, and cautiously moved a little higher to a sheltered position. From here we carefully scanned the bottom of this large gulch, and soon spied a bunch of ewes and lambs, and shortly afterward three medium sized rams. When we first saw them one had become suspicious and was looking intently in our direction, so we crouched low against the rocks, keeping perfectly still until they once more began to feed. When they had gradually worked over a slight knoll we made a quick approach, cautiously stalking up to the ridge over which the sheep had gone. I had expected to get a fair shot at two hundred yards or under, but when I peered over nothing was in sight. I concluded they had not gone up the mountain side, for their white coats against the black rocks would have rendered them easily seen. I, therefore, started to walk boldly in the direction in which we had seen them go, thinking they had probably taken shelter from the gale behind some rocks.

I had only gone some paces when we located them standing on a snow patch which had made them indistinguishable. I sat down and tried to shoot from my knees, but the wind was coming in such fierce gusts that I could not hold my rifle steady, so I ran as hard as I could in their direction, looking hastily about for some rock which would offer shelter.

The sheep made up the mountain side for some three hundred yards, when they paused to look back. I had by this time found a sheltered position behind a large boulder, and soon had one of the rams wounded, but, although I fired several shots I seemed unable to knock him off his feet. Fearing that I might lose him after all, I aimed for the second ram, which was now on the move some distance further up the mountain, and at my second shot he stopped. Climbing up to within one hundred and fifty yards I found that both the sheep were badly wounded, and were unable to go further, so I finished them off. What was my surprise to find that the larger ram had seven bullets in him, while the smaller one had three.

These sheep would almost never flinch to the shot, and it was difficult to tell when you had hit, unless in an immediately vital spot.

The weather continued unfavorable for hill shooting until the third of September, but that day opened bright and clear, and fearing lest the good conditions might not last, we made an early start. Crossing the high plateau we followed the valley of the Killy River, keeping well up and skirting the bases of the mountain summits. As we trudged along, the shrill cries of alarm of the whistling marmots were heard, and the little fellows could be seen in all directions scampering for their holes. Ptarmigan were also frequently met with, but not in such great numbers as one would have supposed in a region where they had never been hunted. On several occasions we found these birds on the highest summits where there was nothing but rocks covered with black moss. It would have been interesting to have shot one of them and learned upon what they were then feeding, but it was just in the locality where we hoped to find rams, and this was out of the question. That morning we traveled some distance before we saw sheep, but having once reached their feeding ground I had the satisfaction of watching more wild game than on any previous day.

The Kussiloff hills were dotted with scattered bands, and I counted in one large flock forty-eight, while the long and narrow valley on both sides of the stream was sprinkled with smaller bunches containing from two or three to twenty. It was a beautiful sight, for every ewe had at least one, and many of them two, lambs frolicking at her side.

In addition to these sheep we saw three moose feeding in a small green valley at the base of the opposite hills. The river was impa.s.sable for some miles, and although they were hardly more than a mile away in a straight line, they were quite unapproachable, so we sat and watched them with much interest until they slowly fed into the timber.

Shortly after noon we located some large sheep on a rocky knoll across the Killy River just below where the stream gushes out from a mighty glacier. They were a long way off, but with the gla.s.ses we could see that one lying apart from the others was a ram, and we surmised that if we could see his horns at such a distance even through the gla.s.ses he probably carried a good head.