56 NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 



were, unfortunately, very different and I could see no 

 possible way of attaining my object, unless by good luck the 

 herd should return toward me ; a very improbable occurrence. 

 The barren was perhaps four or five hundred yards across 

 and nearly half a mile long. It was extremely wet and 

 boggy in some parts, and there was very little cover of any 

 sort to help in stalking. At the upper or windward side 

 was a scattered growth of much stunted spruce trees which 

 at first did not particularly interest me, but in which I was 

 destined to spend many delightful and exciting hours. The 

 herd was dispersed over the greater part of the entire barren, 

 so that stalking the stags, especially the larger ones, was 

 impossible, as they appeared determined to keep pretty near 

 the centre surrounded by the does. As there appeared to be 

 a tendency to work to the windward, I ventured out of the 

 woods and crawled (and that is the only word which 

 expresses my action) out of the barren, seeking the shelter 

 of whatever I could find. Near the largest stag stood my 

 friend the white doe most keenly and aggravatingly alert. 

 Evidently she was going to protect him from me and my 

 camera at all cost, so I made my way very slowly toward 

 another stag of smaller size that was standing head down in a 

 most dejected attitude, gazing at a small bush. Not far from 

 him was another of about the same size that seemed to 

 resent the attitude of the bush-admiring stag and after 

 watching him intently for some moments decided to break 

 in upon his reflections. He charged him from the 

 rear with a suddenness that was truly surprising, but 

 scarcely as surprising as the suddenness with which 

 the object of the attack came to his senses and wheeled 

 round ready to receive the unprovoked onslaught. With 

 lowered heads they met, horn striking horn, the crashing 

 sound echoing through the surrounding woods. Then, 



