94 NEWFOUNDLAND CARIBOU 



and coming at an easy walk. A picture was secured, and 

 then they all passed close to the blind without being aware 

 of my presence, for the noise of their hoofs had drowned 

 the inevitable click of the shutter. No sooner had this herd 

 reached the open barren at the back of where I stood, than 

 there was a sound of animals crashing through the trees 

 about a hundred yards away. Leaving the blind, I hastened 

 to a high knoll from which I should be able to see them. 

 As they came into the open I counted about hfty Caribou ; 

 among them were two magnificent stags, with horns that 

 would count fully forty points. They were going too fast 

 and were too far away to photograph, and as they joined 

 the part of the herd which had passed me, I could not help 

 experiencing a feeling of regret that the big stags had not 

 been among those I had photographed. As it was, I had to 

 be content with what I had secured, and with the pleasure 

 of seeing such a splendid pair. 



About half-an-hour later the sound of six shots in quick 

 succession reached my ears from the direction which the 

 animals had taken. Had either of those two stags fallen ? 

 Perhaps so. Then no one would ever have a chance of 

 photographing them in all their glory of life and vigour. 

 It seemed a pity. Camera-hunting makes us uncharitable 

 enough to hate the man who shoots, for he kills our models. 

 Perhaps, on the other hand, the man with the rifle despises 

 those whose weapon is the harmless camera. I know for 

 a fact that in certain places (names are best left unwritten) 

 camera-hunting has aroused strong opposition among both 

 guides and hunters, for they claim that the animals are so 

 badly frightened by the persistent chasing done by the 

 camera-hunters that they become wild, and consequently 

 shooting grows more diflicult. I contend, however, that 

 too much camera work will finally have the effect of making 



