WAPITI HUNTING. 81 



Before long we came upon the fresh trail of a large herd of deer, 

 and followed it up. It lead us several miles in an easterly direction and 

 then turned southward along the eastern side of a massive ridge, ribbed 

 with side ridges and deep wooded ravines. Suddenly out of one of 

 these two large bucks appeared, one with a good pair of horns. They 

 did not seem frightened, but crossed the adjacent ridge into the next 

 ravine. With bated breath we crept to the spot where they had vanish- 

 ed, but could not see them for the dense birch brush. Sending the 

 two hunters into the woods, I took up a commanding position near the 

 head of the ravine. However, the only game that came my way were a 

 couple of roedeer and a herd of twelve wapiti does. Finally I saw the 

 blue smoke of a fire curling up from a spot in the woods, and descending 

 to it, found my hunters having their lunch. They said that the two 

 bucks had broken cover and gone out at the bottom of the ravine, a 

 most unusual thing. 



After we had satisfied our cravings for food, we picked up their 

 trails, and followed them back into the first ravine. Before long we 

 saw them just topping the crest of the opposing ridge. They crossed 

 it and disappeared once more, and there was nothing for us to do but 

 follow, though by now we were pretty tired, and the sun was fast 

 slanting westward. Over the top of the ridge the trail turned back 

 towards the west, and I knew that the deer were heading for the "yard," 

 we had visited earlier in the day. As straight as an arrow the tracks 

 led, while we followed, and at last we came in sight, of the wood. There 

 sure enough, with my glasses, I could make out a great stag lying in 

 the snow. We ducked out of sight, dodged round the crest of a low 

 ridge, followed down the gentle hollow and, when, about opposite to the 

 place where the deer were lying, crept stealthily up to the shoulder. In 

 the gathering gloom I could make out what appeared to be a large 

 deer with good horns tying within about 150 yards of me. Taking a care- 

 ful aim I fired. The deer rolled over, and I was about to give vent to 

 my feelings in a joyous shout, when up rose the form of a huge stag 

 with spreading antlers, such as any sportsman might wish to own. 

 One moment he stood gazing in my direction, and then with head low, 

 and horns held back to avoid the branches, he commenced to run 

 through the birch trees. I fired several shots. His pace slackened, 

 but he gained the shoulder of the ridge. There he stood with the last 

 rays of the setting suu lighting up his superb antlers, and his hot 

 breath coming in clouds of vapour. Steadying, myself, and taking more 

 careful aim, I pressed the trigger, there was a click but no report-. 

 Magazine and chamber were empty. Next instant the stag vanished 

 over the ridge, and though I did not know it, I had lost my last chance 



