MIGRATIONS 87 



stood for a moment on the bank, examining the strange 

 dark object which floated so quietly down stream. The 

 commanding doe decided that it was not dangerous, and 

 gave the order for advance, and immediately the ice which 

 skirted the bank was being rudely broken by the animals, 

 as they entered the river and swam silently across scarcely a 

 hundred yards from me. On landing they stood still for 

 some minutes, looking about them to see that all was safe, 

 then each one in turn shook the water from its heavy coat 

 with such vigour that the air was filled with fine spray, 

 which glistened in the rosy light of the rising sun. Then 

 following the leader, they all disappeared among the trees, 

 taking a lead near which I expected to spend the day. 

 Seeing the animals moving so early was a good omen, and I 

 went ashore filled with hopes and the anticipation of a 

 glorious day's sport. 



The landing place I selected was well clear of the leads, so 

 that I could make my way without fear of leaving any disturb- 

 ing scent. Walking through the thick underbrush was a noisy 

 job, as the twigs were so heavily coated with ice that they 

 crackled loudly at every step. In about twenty minutes I 

 found myself safely within the shelter of fir trees which I 

 had arranged some time ago. A better place would have 

 been diflicult to find. It was perhaps a quarter of a mile 

 from the river, on the outskirts of a very large barren. On 

 either side of the blind, or gaze as the Newfoundlanders 

 would call it, were a number of splendid well-used leads or 

 paths converging fi*om many landing places j thus most 

 of the Caribou which crossed over an area of nearly half a 

 mile would be more than likely to come within easy range 

 of my battery of cameras, provided the wind remained in 

 the north. Should it change and blow from the south the 

 place would be absolutely useless. 



