grass of a manured
meadow. In one the
staple is deficient in length,
in another in
fineness; while in all there is a
constant tendency
toward disease, rendering various washings and dippings indispensable
to prevent its falling out. The problem of the quality and quantity
of the
carcass seems to be as
doubtful and as far removed from a
satisfactorysolution as that of the wool. Desirable breeds blundered
upon by long
series of groping experiments are often found to be
unstable and subject to disease--bots, foot rot, blind staggers, etc.
--causing
infinite trouble, both among breeders and manufacturers.
Would it not be well,
therefore, for some one to go back as far as
possible and take a fresh start?
The source or sources
whence the various breeds were derived is not
positively known, but there can be hardly any doubt of their being
descendants of the four or five wild
species so generally distributed
throughout the
mountainous portions of the globe, the marked
differences between the wild and
domesticspecies being readily
accounted for by the known variability of the animal, and by the long
series of painstaking
selection to which all its characteristics have
been subjected. No other animal seems to yield so submissively to the
manipulations of
culture. Jacob controlled the color of his flocks
merely by causing them to stare at objects of the desired hue; and
possibly Merinos may have caught their wrinkles from the perplexed
brows of their breeders. The California
species (Ovis montana)[2] is a
noble animal, weighing when full-grown some three hundred and fifty
pounds, and is well
worthy the attention of wool-growers as a point
from which to make a new
departure, for pure wildness is the one great
want, both of men and of sheep.
II
A Geologist's Winter Walk[3]
After reaching Turlock, I sped afoot over the
stubble fields and
through miles of brown hemizonia and
purple erigeron, to Hopeton,
conscious of little more than that the town was behind and beneath me,
and the mountains above and before me; on through the oaks and
chaparral of the foothills to Coulterville; and then ascended the
first great mountain step upon which grows the sugar pine. Here I
slackened pace, for I drank the spicy, resiny wind, and beneath the
arms of this noble tree I felt that I was
safely home. Never did pine
trees seem so dear. How sweet was their
breath and their song, and
how grandly they winnowed the sky! I tingled my fingers among their
tassels, and rustled my feet among their brown needles and burrs, and
was exhilarated and
joyful beyond all I can write.
When I reached Yosemite, all the rocks seemed talkative, and more
telling and
lovable than ever. They are dear friends, and seemed to
have warm blood gushing through their
granite flesh; and I love them
with a love intensified by long and close
companionship. After I had
bathed in the bright river, sauntered over the
meadows, conversed with
the domes, and played with the pines, I still felt blurred and weary,
as if tainted in some way with the sky of your streets. I determined,
therefore, to run out for a while to say my prayers in the higher
mountain temples. "The days are sunful," I said, "and, though now
winter, no great danger need be encountered, and no sudden storm will
block my return, if I am watchful."
The morning after this decision, I started up the
canyon of Tenaya,
caring little about the quantity of bread I carried; for, I thought, a
fast and a storm and a difficult
canyon were just the medicine I
needed. When I passed Mirror Lake, I
scarcely noticed it, for I was
absorbed in the great Tissiack--her crown a mile away in the hushed
azure; her
purplegranitedrapery flowing in soft and
graceful folds
down to my feet, embroidered
gloriously around with deep, shadowy
forest. I have gazed on Tissiack a thousand times--in days of solemn
storms, and when her form shone
divine with the
jewelry of winter, or
was veiled in living clouds; and I have heard her voice of winds, and
snowy, tuneful waters when floods were falling; yet never did her soul
reveal itself more impressively than now. I hung about her skirts,
lingering
timidly, until the higher mountains and glaciers compelled