“Peter, you have been up in
the Old Pasture many times, so you must have seen
the Sheep there,” said Old Mother Nature, turning
to Peter Rabbit.
“Certainly. Of course,”
replied Peter. “They seem to me rather
stupid creatures. Anyway they look stupid.”
“Then you know the leader of
the flock, the big ram with curling horns,”
continued Old Mother Nature.
Peter nodded, and Old Mother Nature
went on. “Just imagine him with a smooth
coat of grayish-brown instead of a white woolly one,
and immense curling horns many times larger than those
he now has. Give him a large whitish or very
light-yellowish patch around a very short tail.
Then you will have a very good idea of one of those
mountain climbers I promised to tell you about, one
of the greatest mountain climbers in all the Great
World—Bighorn the Mountain Sheep, also
called Rocky Mountain Bighorn and Rocky Mountain Sheep.
“Bighorn is a true Sheep and
lives high up among the rocks of the highest mountains
of the Far West. Like all members of the order
to which he belongs his feet are hoofed, but they are
hoofs which never slip, and he delights to bound along
the edges of great cliffs and in making his way up
or down them where it looks as if it would be impossible
for even Chatterer the Red Squirrel to find footing,
to say nothing of such a big fellow as Bighorn.
“The mountains where he makes
his home are so high that the tops of many of them
are in the clouds and covered with snow even in summer.
Above the line where trees can no longer grow Bighorn
spends his summers, coming down to the lower hills
only when the snow becomes so deep that he cannot
paw down through it to get food. His eyesight
is wonderful and from his high lookout he watches for
enemies below, and small chance have they of approaching
him from that direction.
“When alarmed he bounds away
gracefully as if there were great springs in his legs,
and his great curled horns are carried as easily as
if they were nothing at all. Down rock slopes,
so steep that a single misstep would mean a fall hundreds
of feet, he bounds as swiftly and easily as Lightfoot
the Deer bounds through the woods, leaping from one
little jutting point of rock to another and landing
securely as if he were on level ground. He climbs
with equal ease where man would have to crawl and
cling with fingers and toes, or give up altogether.
“Mrs. Bighorn does not have
the great curling horns. Instead she is armed
with short, sharp-pointed horns, like spikes.
Her young are born in the highest, most inaccessible
place she can find, and there they have little to
fear save one enemy, King Eagle. Only such an
enemy, one with wings, can reach them there.
Bighorn and Mrs. Bighorn, because of their size, nothing
to dread from these great birds, but helpless little
lambs are continually in danger of furnishing King
Eagle with the dinner he prizes.
“Only when driven to the lower
slopes and hills by storms and snow does Bighorn have
cause to fear four-footed enemies. Then Puma
the Panther must be watched for, and lower down Howler
the Wolf. But Bighorn’s greatest enemy,
and one he fears most, is the same one so many others
have sad cause to fear—the hunter with his
terrible gun. The terrible gun can kill where
man himself cannot climb, and Bighorn has been persistently
hunted for his head and wonderful horns.
“Some people believe that Bighorn
leaps from cliffs and alights on those great horns,
but this not true. Whenever he leaps he alights
on those sure feet of his, not on his head.
“Way up in the extreme northwest
corner of this country, in a place called Alaska,
is a close cousin whose coat is all white and whose
horns are yellow and more slender and wider spreading.
He called the Dall Mountain Sheep. Farther
south, but not as far south as the home of Bighorn,
is another cousin whose coat is so dark that he is
sometimes called the Black Mountain Sheep. His
proper name is Stone’s Mountain Sheep.
In the mountains between these two is another cousin
with a white head and dark body called Fannin’s
sheep. All these cousins are closely related
and in their habits are much alike. Of them
all, Bighorn the Rocky Mountain Sheep is the best
known.”
“I should think,” said
Peter Rabbit, “that way up there on those high
mountains Bighorn would be very lonesome.”
Old Mother Nature laughed. “Bighorn
doesn’t care for neighbors as you do, Peter,”
said she. “But even up in those high rocky
retreats among the clouds he has a neighbor as sure-footed
as himself, one who stays winter as well as summer
on the mountain tops. It is Billy the Rocky
Mountain Goat.
“Billy is as awkward-looking
as he moves about as Bighorn is graceful, but he will
go where even Bighorn will hesitate to follow.
His hoofs are small and especially planned for walking
in safety on smooth rock and ice-covered ledges.
In weight he is about equal to Lightfoot the Deer,
but he doesn’t look in the least like him.
“In the first place he has a
hump on his shoulders much like the humps of Thunderfoot
the Bison and Longcoat the Musk Ox. Of course
this means that he carries his head low. His
face is very long and from beneath his chin hangs
a white beard. From his forehead two rather
short, slim, black horns stand up with a little curve
backward. His coat is white and the hair is long
and straight. Under this long white coat he
wears a thick coat of short, woolly, yellowish-white
fur which keeps him warm in the coldest weather.
He seldom leaves his beloved mountain-tops, even
in the worst weather of winter, as Bighorn sometimes
does, but finds shelter among the rocks. The
result is that he has practically no enemies save
man to fear.
“Often he spends the summer
where the snow remains all the year through and his
white coat is a protection from the keenest eyes.
You see, when not moving, he looks in the distance
for all the world like a patch of snow on the rocks.
“Not having a handsome head
or wonderful horns he has not been hunted by man quite
so much as has Bighorn, and therefore is not so alert
and wary. Both he and Bighorn are more easily
approached from above than from below, because they
do not expect danger from above and so do not keep
so sharp a watch in that direction. The young
are sometimes taken by King Eagle, but otherwise Billy
Goat’s family has little to fear from enemies,
always excepting the hunter with his terrible gun.
“I have now told you of the
members of the cattle and Sheep family, what they
look like and where they live and how. There
is still one more member of the order Ungulata and
this one is in a way related to another member of
Farmer Brown’s barnyard. I will leave
you to guess which one. What is it, Peter?”
“If you please, in just what
part of the Far West are the mountains where Billy
Goat lives?” replied Peter.
“Chiefly in the northern part,”
replied Old Mother Nature. “In the Northwest
these mountains are very close to the ocean and Billy
does not appear to mind in the least the fogs that
roll in, and seems to enjoy the salt air. Sometimes
there he comes down almost to the shore. Are
there any more questions?”
There were none, so school was dismissed
for the day. Peter didn’t go straight
home. Instead he went up to the Old Pasture for
another look at the old ram there and tried to picture
to himself just what Bighorn must look like.
Especially he looked at the hoofs of the old ram.
“It is queer,” muttered
Peter, “how feet like those can be so safe up
on those slippery rocks Old Mother Nature told us about.
Anyway, it seems queer to me. But it must be
so if she says it is. My, my, my, what a lot
of strange people there are in this world! And
what a lot there is to learn!”