THE WAPITI 281 



the fact that I did not see camp again until long after 

 dark. 



I at first tried to cut off the wapiti by trotting through 

 the woods toward the pass for which I supposed he was 

 headed. The morning was cold, and, as always happens 

 at the outset when one starts to take violent exercise under 

 such circumstances, the running caused me to break into 

 a perspiration; so that the first time I stopped to listen 

 for the wapiti a regular fog rose over my glasses and 

 then froze on them. I could not see a thing, and after 

 wiping them found I had to keep gently moving in order 

 to prevent them from clouding over again. It is on 

 such cold mornings, or else in very rainy weather, that 

 the man who has not been gifted with good eyes is most 

 sensible of his limitations. I once lost a caribou which 

 I had been following at speed over the snow because 

 when I came into sight and halted the moisture instantly 

 formed and froze on my glasses so that I could not see 

 anything, and before I got them clear the game had van- 

 ished. Whatever happened, I was bound that I should 

 not lose this wapiti from a similar accident. 



However, when I next heard him he had evidently 

 changed his course and was going straight away from me. 

 The sun had now risen, and following after him I soon 

 found his tracks. He was walking forward with the 

 regular wapiti stride, and I made up my mind I had a 

 long chase ahead of me. We were going up hill, and 

 though I walked hard, I did not trot until we topped the 

 crest. Then I jogged along at a good gait, and as I had 

 on moccasins, and the woods were open, I did not have 



