THE ANTLERS OF THE CARIBOU 89 



would either come with a defiant rush, and 

 make a much louder noise, or he would come 

 secretively and make no noise whatever. 

 With pounding pulses he leaned forward to 

 see what would emerge upon the sandspit. 



To his surprise, it was no moose, but a small 

 grey caribou cow, looking almost white in the 

 level rays of the now half-risen moon. She 

 was followed by another cow, larger and 

 darker than the first, and then by a fine 

 caribou bull. Softly, alluringly, the hunter 

 sounded his call again, but not one of the 

 caribou paid any attention to it whatever. 

 To the bull of the caribou it mattered not what 

 lovelorn cow-moose should voice her hoarse 

 appeals to the moon. He and his followers 

 were on their own affairs intent. 



He was a noble specimen of his kind, as to 

 stature, with a very light greyish head, neck, 

 and shoulders, showing white in contrast to 

 the dull brown of the rest of his coat. But 

 his antlers, though large, were unevenly deve- 

 loped, so obviously imperfect that the hunter, 

 who wanted heads, not hides or meat, hesi- 

 tated to shoot. He chose rather to bide his 

 time, and hope for a more perfect specimen, 

 the law of New Brunswick allowing him only 

 one. 



For several minutes the bull stood staring 



