A BRUSH WITH A CARIBOU 143 



shape of a young moose emerge from the thicket of bushes on the 

 opposite bank and shyly vanish. At night, owls of various species 

 visited our camp fire, at times snapping their beaks ferociously, or 

 indulging in blood-curdling screeches. A long low howl at rare 

 intervals showed us that the grey wolf was not yet extinct in this 

 region. 



Large trout were to be had by the most careless method of fishing. 

 No need to cater to a pampered appetite by artificial flies ! It were 

 a useless waste of tackle. A bit of rabbit fur wrapped round a Lim- 

 erick hook, or the pectoral fin of a brother trout, proved lure enough 



A PARTY OF THREE WHO CANOED SOME DISTANCE ALONGSIDE. 



for large speckled beauties who fought gamely for their lives, leaping 

 out of the water like the salmon. These trout were a welcome 

 addition to our table, and were often followed by juicy young 

 ' partridges ' or ruffed grouse, which did not need the stimulus of 

 mountain air to prove delicious eating. 



We had certainly got to the heart of the wild backwoods, and 

 the release from all the conventions of civilized life was truly refresh- 

 ing and altogether delightful. For sheer physical enjoyment no- 

 thing surpasses the luxury of a smoke round a forest camp fire 

 after a hard day's work. 



A caribou hunt to Big Bald Mountain was now resolved upon. 

 This involved a severe tramp of some score of miles, where in places 

 the going was most difficult, owing to fallen fire-killed timber. Hard 

 climbing up the sides of forest-clad mountains, and steep descents 

 into ravines obstructed by tangled growths of cedars and firs, 

 made the trail at times inconceivably rough and difficult. 



