A LARGE GREY WOLF. 357 



or three winters in this district, and who, I 

 believe, is the only white man who has ever 

 penetrated so far up the south fork of the 

 Macmillan River, 



In the afternoon, as I was making my way 

 along the bank about a mile ahead of the canoe, 

 I saw a very large grey wolf on an open sand- 

 bar on the opposite side of the river. I got 

 a very good shot at him at a distance of not 

 more than one hundred and fifty yards, but 

 unfortunately missed him. Whether I fired 

 too high or too low I don't know, but anyway 

 it was a very bad shot. 



On September 6th we " packed " up into the 

 mountains lying to the north of the river, and 

 after a rough climb — very tiring with a pack 

 on one's back — reached a point near the junc- 

 tion of two streams in the neighbourhood of 

 timber line which we thought would make a 

 good site for a camp. After finding a level 

 piece of ground we sat down on our packs for 

 a rest. 



From this point we commanded a good view 

 up two valleys. My eyes had been wandering 



