LIFE AND HABITS 31 



the water, there is the profusion of crimson and orange hues 

 of the viburnums and myrtle, coloured as though by rich 

 wines. In the water all these myriad colours are reflected, 

 a vibrant mass which so well sets off the simple greys and 

 whites of the feeding Caribou. Yes, it is well worth 

 seeing, for even if it does not last long, it leaves an 

 impression which comes to life each time the memory is 

 stirred by the mention of Newfoundland and its fascinating 

 waterways. Those who have lived all their lives in England 

 know nothing ot autumn colours save the sombre yellows 

 and browns, and they find it hard to believe the stories of 

 the gorgeousness of the north. Even if one suggests a touch 

 of the scarlet maple in a painting, the sombre-hued person 

 calls us to task, not believing that such barbaric beauty can 

 exist in wild nature. 



During this period of wonderful colours, the Caribou are 

 partial to a form of food which, so far as I know, has never 

 been recorded as part of their somewhat limited diet. I 

 had noticed, when canoeing up and down the rivers, that 

 the leaves of the spatter-dock and its close cousin the water 

 lily were seldom to be seen, but that the stems were 

 extremely abundant. Not believing it to be the work of 

 beavers, for they eat the roots and lower shoots, I decided to 

 watch the river closely. On the second day, a herd of 

 several Caribou swam across the river near where I was 

 hidden, and coming to the lily pads, immediately began 

 eating the large leaves. The water was over four feet in 

 depth so the animals could not touch bottom. They bit 

 off the leaves as they swam about, frequently putting their 

 heads entirely under water in their efforts to get possession 

 of a submerged leaf. For over half-an-hour they continued 

 their feast, unconscious of the man who was watching them so 

 intently. They reminded me strongly of a herd of moose, 



