212 THE LABRADOE PENINSULA. CHAP. xni. 



before, and where we had seen fresh tracks. It was not 



light enough to see distinctly any considerable distance, 



so I returned again to my former outlook. Just as I 



had seated myself I heard a splash in the lake at the foot 



of the hill : it was a willow bush which had fallen into the 



water at the mouth of a little stream, and the beaver 



which cut it down swam towards it, drew it in shore, and 



began to eat the juicy bark. The faintest tinge of crimson 



on the summit of the distant mountain which we had 



passed reminded me that it was time to look for caribou 



Eeturning to the opposite side I scanned the caribou 



ground with my glass carefully and anxiously ; and not 



without success, for at the distance of half a mile I saw 



three does with their fawns feeding and walking towards 



the lake. A loon flew over, uttering its wild note ; they 



looked around, but soon began to feed again. They seemed 



to be cropping the flowers of the Labrador tea-plant, and 



of one or two other shrubs which grew among the moss. 



They came within a quarter of a mile of our tents, when 



they suddenly stopped ; all raised their heads together, and 



gazed in the direction of our camp. They looked but for 



an instant, when, turning round, away they galloped witli 



long bounds towards the nearest range of hills. They, too, 



had smelt the fire. It was then that the caution often given 



me by Indians came in full force upon my recollection 



' When you want to watch for deer or bear at daybreak, 



always put your fire out before you go to bed : it is better 



to make no fire at all.' Slowly I went back to my old 



post above the lake. Golden light had begun to tinge the 



summits of the higher hills, still the shadows were deep 



and well defined. As the sun approached the horizon, the 



