I STAY MY HAND. 293 



poles laid over the ice, and broiiglit it in to 

 shore. This caribou carried a fairly good head 

 but not at all a remarkable one. 



Although through the kindness of the 

 authorities in St. John's, I had been granted 

 a special permit to kill as many caribou as 

 I might require to keep myself in fresh meat 

 on my journey to and from King George's 

 Lake — for one cannot carry much meat in 

 addition to a heavy pack — I determined now 

 to stay my hand, for I had seen so many big 

 stags with poor heads, that I did not think 

 it very likeh^ I would get a really good one 

 by hunting for a few days longer, and I did 

 not want to kill any more with only moderate 

 heads. 



So on November 2nd we returned to our 

 camp on the river, and the same afternoon 

 paddled a few miles down stream. On the 

 following day we reached the head of Red 

 Indian Lake before midday. There had been 

 a sharp frost the night before, followed by 

 one of the most beautiful days imaginable. 

 After all the wretched rainy weather we had 



