Of course young bisons can be tamed, and to a certain extent educated. "Buffalo" Jones broke a pair of two-year-old bulls to work under a yoke, and pull a light wagon. He tried them with bridles and bits, but the buffaloes refused to work with them. With tight-fitting halters, and the exercise of much-muscle, he was able for a time to make them "gee" and "haw." But not for long. When they outgrew his ability in free-hand drawing, he rigged an upright windlass on each side of his wagon-box, and firmly attached a line to each. When the team was desired to "gee," he deftly wound up the right line on its windlass, and vice versa for "haw." But even this did not last a great while. The motor control was more tentative than absolute. Once while driving beside a creek on a hot and thirsty day, the super-heated buffaloes suddenly espied the water, twenty feet or so below the road. Without having been bidden they turned toward it, and the windlass failed to stop them. Over the cut bank they went, wagon, man and buffalo bulls, "in one red burial blent." Although they secured their drink, their reputation as draught oxen was shattered beyond repair, and they were cashiered the service. Elsewhere I have spoken of the bison's temper and temperament. THE WILD SHEEP.--It takes most newly-captured adult mountain sheep about six months in palatial zoo quarters to get the idea out of their heads that every man who comes near them, even including the man who feeds and waters them, is going to kill them, and that they must rush wildly to and fro before it occurs. But there are exceptions. At the same time, wild herds soon learn the large difference between slaughter and protection, and thereafter accept man's hay and salt with dignity and persistence. The fine big-horn photographs that have been taken of _wild_ sheep herds on public highways just outside of Banff, Alberta, tell their own story more eloquently than words can do. The photograph of wild sheep, after only twenty-seven years of protection, feeding in herds in the main street of Ouray, Colorado, is an object lesson never to be forgotten by any student of wild animal psychology. And can any such student look upon such a picture and say that those animals have not thought to some purpose upon the important question of danger and safety to sheep? Is there anyone left who still believes the ancient and bizarre legend that mountain sheep rams jump off cliffs and alight upon their horns? I think not. People now know enough about anatomy, and the mental traits of wild sheep, to know that nothing of that kind ever occurred save by a dreadful accident, followed by the death of the sheep. No spinal column was ever made by Nature or developed by man that could endure without breaking a headforemost fall from the top of a cliff to the slide-rock bottom thereof.