Accepting the theory of the scientist that the so-called American elk and the big horn crossed the ice, or at one time narrow neck of land now known as the Bering Strait, we must conclude that the sheep have degenerated considerably, for the big horn of the American continent are but pigmies as compared with their progenitors in Asia. The elk, however, compares favorably in size and magnificence with any specimen recorded from either Manchuria, Siberia, or northern China.

In trying to arrive at something like an accurate comparison between either the wapiti or sheep of Central Asia with the so-called elk of the American continent (Cervus canadensis), or the big horn (Ovis canadensis), it must be borne in mind that not more than a few tens of the former have ever been measured and reported on, while in the case of the latter it is safe to say that a maximum measurement has in all probability been recorded.

There are in Central Asia five quite distinct types of sheep recorded, with fair chances that other will yet be added. Ovis poli is a remarkably fine animal found in the high-steppe region of Central Asia, and is named after Marco Polo, who is credited with having discovered it. This species is characterized by the great length and wide spread of horns. The record measurements, in so far as I have ever noted, are:

Possibly the largest sheep thus far recorded is found in the Alti Mountains. This animal has been much hunted by European sportsmen, who have considered it one of the most coveted of all trophies. Notwithstanding the efforts put forth to secure trophies of this magnificent animal, comparatively speaking, but few have ever been taken. This sheep is known as Ovis littledalei. The recorded measurements are:

The Tibetan sheep is characterized by the massiveness of its horns. Long horns or rather wide reach are the exception in this species, as the animal keeps the points worn off in order to be able to feed freely upon the short grass. This sheep is known as Ovis hodsoni. Measurements are:

The species most common to Mongolia and Siberia is Ovis ammon, and is called by the Monguls the Argili. Possibly a greater number of this species than of any other have been taken by European sportsmen. The recorded measurements thus far are:

This entire group comprise trophies over which sportsmen have all but gone insane. There is no animal hunted which is more wary and difficult to take than the big horn of Central Asia. The North China species, Ovis comosa, sometimes confused with Ovis ammon, is one of the finest of the entire sheep group thus far recorded. I killed the world's record of this species in November, 1919, in the mountains of northern Shansi Province, hard up against the Mongolian border.

Up to this time the record had been reported on by the noted scientist, Arthur de C. Sowerby, in this same region. The skull with horns attached had been picked up, the animal very likely having been killed by wolves. The horn measurements at the base were nineteen and one half inches in circumference. It must be remembered, however, that this measurement was of dry horns, which would mean the actual measurements in life were approximately the same as that of my trophy when killed, which had nineteen and three quarter inches basil circumference.

I saw fossil skulls taken from the bed of the Feng Ho River in Shansi Province which far exceeded any records for present-day trophies recorded. The fine animals now found upon these rugged mountains serve to show something of what once existed in the region when the big horns were at the zenith of their glory.

The area where the sheep are now found in China comprises a very limited region of most rugged mountains. The big horns were reported as early as 1876, when a number of heads were taken by European sportsmen. After this there elapsed a period of years when they were practically forgotten, thus escaping destruction other than at the hands of the Mongol hunters armed with primitive weapons. In recent years there has been a decided revival of interest in this wonderful but rapidly disappearing trophy, possibly a greater number being taken by European sportsmen during the past decade, or a little more, than during all previous time.

In the fall of 1919 I was granted a few months off by the Board of Foreign Missions of my church for the purpose of joining Roy Chapman Andrews in an expedition along the Mongolian border to secure a complete series of this sheep, Ovis comosa, which is rapidly approaching extinction.

After a short but successful expedition into Chekiang Province hunting serow, I hurried north to join Mr. Andrews in Peking, upon his return from a long and hard summer's expedition in Mongolia. This outing was a much appreciated respite for me before plunging into the routine of work at my station in southern China, for I had been spending two busy years in the homeland in connection with a special missionary campaign.

Just the outfitting and packing for an expedition of this kind seemed a big undertaking to me, but Andrews seemed to know just what he wanted, and what quantity of each article, so that we got through the task in a remarkably short time.

Leaving Peking, we traveled by rail to Kalgan and beyond on a Chinese built and operated railroad. The rolling stock was American, but the road had been conceived and executed by Chinese engineers, and it was a credit to its builders. I doubt whether I ever enjoyed a day's train travel as I did that day over a route made famous by the Mongol chiefs, who led many an attack upon the Chinese over this same way. At intervals during the whole day we could get glimpses of the Great Wall which for so many centuries preserved China from being completely overrun by the invader.

Reaching what was then the railhead at nine o'clock in the evening we found some difficulty in getting all our belongings transferred to an inn on account of a rainstorm. In this work we were greatly assisted by the station agent, a young man of strong Christian character, who spoke English fluently.

Traveling in almost any part of China to-day one learns to appreciate men who are the product of Christian missionary work. Whether or not professing Christians themselves, their actions and general bearing reflect credit upon Christian education. There are, of course, exceptions to this as to any rule, but one who has traveled much in unfrequented parts of China will bear testimony to the real worth of Christian missionary work as manifested through the lives and character of many men he meets.

We were delayed a day in Fengcheng on account of the difficulty experienced in securing the necessary horses and cart for the long trip across the province. It finally proved necessary to buy outright three horses for saddle purposes, hoping to be able to dispose of them at a reasonable price upon our return. The way this deal ended, however, suggested that we were better hunters than horse-traders, for we practically had to give the animals away upon our return, although they were in as good or better condition than when we purchased them.

The trip across Shansi Province kept us constantly alert. I walked considerably after the first day, as I had not ridden a horse for about twenty years, and one day was enough to satisfy me for the time being.

While walking along beside the cart road we had great sport collecting a very beautiful little sand rat known as gerbil (Meriones auceps). These little long-tailed rats abound in colonies in the sand dunes and sandy wastes where it was possible by careful stalking and more careful shooting to secure specimens each day sufficient to keep the taxidermists working until a late hour each night in the inns where we put up.

I very much wanted to get both bustard and antelope, which abound on the Shansi plains, but was unfortunate in not connecting up with either. At Lake Tai Hai we had wonderful duck and goose shooting.

This lake is one of the wonders of the trip across the province. It may well be called the sportsman's paradise so far as hunting water fowl is concerned. During the period of migration literally tens of thousands of shore birds, ducks, geese and swans gather there, offering wonderful shooting. The railroad has long since been constructed to far beyond this lake, so that it is a simple matter for sportsmen from Peking to run up there for a week­end shoot.

We spent one night at this lake, stocking our larder with fresh meat during a few hours' sport early in the morning.

As we neared the great Kweihuacheng plain Mr. Andrews began to school me in the matter of estimating distances, for the success or failure of a hunt after the big horn may rest upon this very fact. This thing is not nearly so true now, however, where a person is using one of the modern high-power rifles, as it was a few years ago when the ordinary gun was used, though I did make some miserable misses while shooting at the first herd of sheep because I had not fully grasped what my teacher was trying to get into my thinking all along the way.

I walked upon a group of eight sheep the second day out, and could have easily secured a trophy had I reckoned at all accurately as to distance. As it was, I was firing point blank at the sheep at more than seven hundred yards, supposing them to be not to exceed half that distance. The atmosphere is so clear and rarified that things stand out much magnified, rendering the calculating of distances exceedingly difficult for the one who for the first time undertakes to shoot under such conditions.

When I returned to camp at the end of the second day out, reporting that I had seen sheep at three points, I supposed that, of course, our guides would again head that way the following morning. I never could quite figure out just why they did not, but instead broke off to the left and toward what appeared to be an absolutely inaccessible cliff two thousand feet or more high. Lame and stiff from the climbing of the previous day, I was in no shape to attack such a climb, and was feeling the weight of my feet terribly when some one of the party directed our attention to a huge sentinel ram standing on the very highest crag as still and rigid as some molten image.

It was a wonderful sight, and just what I needed to make me forget aching limbs, heavy feet, and all else. We all lay down on the slope and watched the lone ram for nearly a quarter of an hour. He squared around and surveyed the horizon in one direction, and then in another, seeming all the time to be looking far over our heads. There was in all his actions but one which suggested that he possibly saw us. That was when he disappeared from view as if satisfied with his survey for friends or foe, only to hurry back to his pinnacle point for a second and then a third look. He must have taken a final peep later and after we had begun to hurry up the slope, for when we reached the top the old ram was nowhere to be seen. We followed for a long way down a ridge fresh tracks which showed that the sentinel had hurried to cross the creek at the bottom of the deep ravine only to enter the labyrinth of rugged mountains on the opposite side.

Possibly our guides had in mind connecting up with this giant sheep somewhere hack in this wild when they suggested that we separate for the day's hunt, but of this they never spoke, my hunter simply tugging at my elbow and pointing to the depths of a dark and icy ravine leading into the very heart of the range. The other guide motioned Mr. Andrews to follow him up what seemed to be an impossible climb.

I am not sure which of us would have had the more difficult day if it had been necessary for me to climb out of the head of this ravine to either of the divides. As it was, I had a very easy and happy day, returning to camp by the middle of the afternoon with my first big trophy, while poor Andrews did not stagger in until after nine o'clock in the evening, and then nearly dead, as he had helped his hunter over miles of mountain with a burden of two heads and skins.

Soon after separating from Mr. Andrews I found myself following along a frozen stream bed, every­where blocked by jumbled masses of stone. Walking was exceedingly difficult and dangerous, as the rocks were covered with a glaze of ice. We had to move so slowly that I was really suffering with the chill which seemed to penetrate into the very marrow.

My guide was not hunting, his every action showing he was merely working his way up this gulch in order finally to come out upon the top of the range. I saw far ahead of us a patch of wedge-shaped sunlight which fell across the ravine, and I hurried along to reach it, hoping to be able to thaw out a bit. Just as we entered this area of sunshine I raised my head to see what formation of peaks would cast such a symmetrical shadow in this deep ravine, only to see four sheep leisurely moving along toward a saddle in the range.

I did not spend much time calculating distances, for I felt sure that these animals were safely within the five-hundred-yard range. Dropping upon one knee I raised my gun to fire at the largest sheep, which was at this time nearest the divide. To my disgust I found I could not so much as see the mountain through my sights, to say nothing of seeing sheep. The reflection from the copper front peep sight produced great spokes of light wholly obliterating everything.

I shifted my position in order to get a shot, whereupon the big ram stood looking at me, letting the ewe and two other rams pass him. When I tried for a second time to get a shot the ewe stood upon the skyline while the other sheep moved slowly forward. Again it was impossible to shoot.

I now became almost frantic lest these sheep should slip away before I could get to the shadow on the other side of the light wedge. Hurrying as much as I dared, lest I attract the attention of the rams and send them bounding over the divide, I moved forward to within a few yards of the shadow of one of the twin peaks, whereupon I lunged forward, crouching low so as to be in the shadow and hurriedly fired at the big ram now nearing the sky­line.

At the report of the gun he leaped high in the air. His feet had hardly touched earth when I fired a second shot, and while he staggered I fired the third. The big sheep crumpled and lunged forward, disappearing in a depression.

I knew that the sheep was down, for another ram stopped on the skyline and looked long in the direction of his leader, offering me a very fine shot. One sheep is enough to try to handle alone in such a place, so I refrained from shooting at the second ram, which carried a magnificent head.

My guide and I clambered and scrambled up the mountain, having to make a wide detour on account of the almost perpendicular face of the slope. From a distance I saw the huge gray body of the ram lying upon the steep side of the basin.

Upon reaching the animal I was amazed at its immense size, length of body, and massiveness of limbs. As I admired all these my guide went wild with excitement, mercilessly mauling me over the back and hauling me around that I might look at the head. I could only catch now and then the words, "They do not grow larger horns than these," as the almost hysterical Mongol pranced first around me and then around the sheep.

After I got him sufficiently quieted down I took his picture beside the ram. He then beat me over the back shouting, "They do not grow bigger."

While I was studying my trophy and waiting for better sunlight that I might expose another roll of films the eagle eye of my guide saw somewhere in the distance and far above us Mr. Andrews and his hunter, to whom he shouted the news that I had killed a very large sheep. I shouted off in the same direction to Mr. Andrews that I had killed a sheep which certainly was a beauty.

This was one of the supreme hours of my life, for I had traveled from New York to Mongolia for the purpose of assisting Mr. Andrews in securing a series of these sheep. I had heard several applications for a place on this expedition turned down flatly, and I had heard Andrews say with considerable confidence that the two of us could secure the trophies desired. It was a great relief to me, after the experience of the previous day, to have killed a sheep large enough to excite my guide as this one had.

I had fired three shots at this animal in about as rapid succession as it is possible for a Savage rifle to work, from a most awkward position, making a triangle of holes just back of the foreleg which could be covered with the palm of my hand. Any one of the shots would have finished the animal off. I could now breathe easy in the satisfaction of having actually secured that for which I had traveled so far, yet little appreciating the real magnificence of the trophy.

It is a task to be remembered to skin out such a specimen alone, or with such help as the guide can offer, but we got through in good time and started for camp just four hours after I had killed the sheep. The husky Mongol staggered under his load of head and skin, which he said weighed nearly 150 pounds.

Late in the evening Mr. Andrews came into camp with one large head and that of a small ram, both of which fitted right into the series of seven heads selected for the life group, showing beautifully the horn growth. Later we both secured additional heads, but nothing rivaling the massive head of my first ram. Three of the heads taken compare favorably with any ever taken out of that North Shansi region.

I have never learned of any part of the sheep being especially valuable for medicinal purposes, as is the case with the wapiti, so it is very likely that they will outlast the big deer in this open country. It would seem that wolves have a far better chance to run down and capture the young of the wapiti, as the sheep are very much at home among the crags where the wolf must move with very great caution.

I recall stalking a small herd of sheep, which I had followed for ten miles across the rolling uplands, finally locating them in a deep bowl of an exceedingly rugged range of mountains surrounded by high jagged cliffs. As I cautiously approached the sheep from below I encountered a large wolf just about ready to spring upon the sheep from above. The wolf slunk away among the crags, startling the sheep, which broke away toward an outlet far among the cliffs at the upper end of the bowl.

I fired at the ram as it neared the skyline several hundred yards away. The animal went down with a crash on the rim of the bowl. I expected to see it come tumbling down into the deep basin, but just as it was weakening in its struggling and floundering the wolf I had routed from far below rushed out along the rim of the bowl and viciously attacked the prostrate sheep, toppling it over the skyline and out of sight.

It required more than an hour for us to reach the place where the sheep had gone down, only to find that the wolf had rolled and dragged the trophy into a deep chasm, into which we dared not venture on account of the late hour in the afternoon. The wolf seemed to know the only possible exit for the fleeing sheep, and made good in his attempt to reach the point and intercept the animals. I deplored very much losing this fine ram in this way, but there was no help for it.

In all we secured seven specimens of Ovis camosa, and then agreed not to shoot another. I would give much to-day for the head of one of these wonderful rams, but if again given the chance to hunt them, would refuse to shoot one for my own use.

I shall always remember the majestic bearing of certain rams at which I had fair chances had I cared to fire, but which I permitted to look me over and walk away unmolested. I would rather remember them in this way than by a mute head hanging upon my wall testifying to the passing of one of the finest of the big-horn group.

• The Tiger at Home
• My Friend the Serow
• Southern China Wild Boar
• Some Bandit Chiefs I Have Known