98 THE MOOSE 



He was a fine sight, the old caribou bull, in his 

 own way as handsome as the bull moose, whose 

 rugged appearance lived still in the yearling's 

 memory. Not so heavily built, or so majestic, 

 there was a finer, lighter beauty about him which 

 no moose could emulate. The horns of great 

 length, though complete, were soft and velvet- 

 covered, and the whole effect from brow to tops 

 was unusually symmetrical. The brow antlers 

 matched exactly — a rare feature. The cows carried 

 horns also — the horns the moose cow had so 

 envied. 



The caribou had no welcome for the visitor, but 

 drove him down the slopes ruthlessly. If their 

 horns looked soft, their deeply-cleft broad hoofs 

 did not, and the thought of their latent force gave 

 the moose courage to tackle the tundra slopes 

 barring the way to the forest area. 



Smooth and inviting they looked, but appear- 

 ances are deceptive in tundras as in many things. 

 The whole place was a morass, which the feet 

 of the roving caribou alone were designed to 

 negotiate. 



Beneath the tundra the ground is for ever frozen, 

 and only the surface thaws out each year. Bogged 



