30 NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 



may not always be the case, but it certainly was, the only 

 time that I have tried it. 



The food of the Caribou during the autumn, just as in 

 the summer, consists largely of lichens and mosses, but they 

 also seem very partial to the leaves of many of the shrubs, 

 such as the alder, willow and certain viburnums which grow 



' CD 



along the banks of streams and rivers. I do not think they 

 eat the twigs, except possibly the extreme tips of the willow, 

 but the leaves are pulled off and eaten with evident relish. 

 One of the most delightful sights in the country is to be 

 seen on the rivers when, if one goes noiselessly along in a 

 canoe, the Caribou, young and old, does and stags, may be 

 seen enjoying their meal of browse. They make their way 

 through the thickest brush which overhangs the water in 

 a tangled mass through which no man could go, scarcely 

 making any noise, stopping here and there to nibble off 

 the smaller leaves. At such times they often allow the 

 canoe to approach within a few feet before taking fright. 

 When they first catch sight of the canoe, they usually stare 

 at it a moment and then vanish quickly in a very noisy 

 fashion ; but before they are disturbed they present a 

 wonderfully beautiful picture, for the rivers of Newfound- 

 land are at their best in September and October and even 

 without the animals they are worth seeing. The glowing 

 scarlet of the maples, the birches with their gleaming white 

 trunks and foliage of pure golden yellow sprinkled with 

 green and brown, the restless poplars, whose trembling 

 leaves become a most intense yellow, less varied perhaps 

 than the many shades of the birches, but none the less 

 bewildering, form a shimmering mass which flickers in the 

 sunlight. Behind all stand the deep, quiet greens of the firs 

 and the spruces, relieved here and there by the spun gold of 

 the tamarack or juniper. In the foreground along the edge of 



