88 NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 



While I was arranging the cameras so that they would 

 cover every lead without having to be moved, the sound of 

 crackling ice and splashing water warned me that a herd 

 was coming. The light was still too weak and yellow for 

 instantaneous photography, so with a clear conscience I 

 would be able to enjoy watching the animals. It was not 

 long before the deathly stillness of the morning was broken 

 by sound of the approaching herd. Had there been no 

 ice on the twigs there would have been no sound, save the 

 curious cracking of their feet ; but the brittle ice made 

 noiseless walking impossible for man or beast. Soon they 

 appeared : a small " company " of eight. By good luck 

 there was no large stag. I say good luck, because with the 

 impossibility of using the camera a big stag would have been 

 a thorough aggravation. At first the animals were almost 

 lost in the long blue shadows, but as they came clear of the 

 low trees the pale yellow sunlight flickered across them, 

 painting their white necks with delicate indescribable colour. 

 One very light-coloured fawn was particularly beautiful, with 

 his soft, almost fluffy head and large dark eyes, a real live 

 fairy in the icy wonderland. In single file they came, with 

 the inevitable doe at the head, nearer and nearer to within 

 a few feet of where I stood enjoying this true natural history 

 picture, so quick to come and so quick to go, deliciously 

 aggravating, because there was no time to sketch it in with 

 paint, and not light enough for even a colourless photograph, 

 only barely time to fix it on the mind so that it could be 

 used some day in a most inadequate painting. The picture 

 had passed almost before I had realised the beauty of it all, 

 and in a few seconds nothing remained but the broken, 

 mud-splashed ice to show where the little herd of south- 

 bound animals had walked in the trail which had been 

 used by their ancestors for countless ages. 



