ON SNOWSHOES AND DOG-SLEDS. 225 



some time past, supper of venison steak was gratefully 

 appreciated. 



During the day's march numerous wolf and polar bear 

 tracks had been crossed, but the caribou were the only 

 animals seen. 



The next day's tramp was a short one, not in actual 

 miles travelled by some of us, but in distance made upon 

 the course. We had, however, a good day's sport, for at 

 different times during the day no less than eight deer 

 were shot. My brother and I were not able to take 

 part in the chase, for by this time, though I was begin- 

 ning to recover, my brother was as badly crippled as I 

 had been, and for a time had to be drawn on a sled. I 

 should not, perhaps, say we took no part in the chase, 

 for my brother made one remarkable shot. 



At about the close of day, a small deer which Mr. 

 Matheson had been following, and at which he had been 

 practising for some time with my brother's rifle, stood 

 still and looked at him with innocent amazement, at a 

 distance of about three hundred yards from our train. 

 Probably the cause of Mr. Matheson's bad shooting was 

 the cross wind which was blowing strongly at the time, 

 but, however, he gave up in disgust and returned the 

 rifle to my brother, asking him to try a shot. My 

 brother said it was useless for him to try, as the deer 

 had now run still farther away, and he himself had 

 only one leg to stand on. But, dropping on his knee, 

 he fired a shot, and down dropped the deer. 



Several of the best haunches of venison secured were 



loaded upon the sleds, but it was not thought wise to 



overload the teams by trying to carry too much. The 



bulk of the meat was <; cached " where it was killed, to 



15 



