THE NEWFOUNDLAND BARRENS 161 



ease in the attempt reminds one of the swimming of wild fowl. 

 The doe emerges first and shakes glittering drops from her sides, 

 just as a huge Newfoundland dog might do. The stag does the 

 same, but the weight of his massive horns causes him to stagger 

 and reel in a comical fashion, as if he had almost lost his balance. 

 He does not appear to have quite got accustomed to the twenty- 

 eight pounds of new bone on his forehead. 



' These are northern deer, sir/ says one of the men, handing 

 to the other an express rifle. ' Wait till you can take him behind 

 the shoulder, sir.' 



Will that doe never relax her vigilance ? There ! she has given 

 the alarm and is off. Her indolent lord and master before deigning 

 to follow looks round to satisfy himself that there is cause for 

 flight. 



Suddenly he gives a start which shows he is aware that some- 

 thing is undoubtedly wrong. 



Nothing can be finer than the manner of a large stag when 

 excited and alarmed. However listless he may appear at ordinary 

 times, he then seems the very embodiment of strength and grace. 



Looking truly magnificent, with head erect, the noble creature 

 pauses broadside to the foe. A cloud has been drifting across the 

 sun, but suddenly breaking away, a rift of yellow sunlight plays 

 upon the brown branching antlers in all their proud beauty. That 

 is his last look around at the environment of awful and infinite 

 grandeur which forms the background to the drama. Two short 

 sharp reports of the rifle echo among the hills and the stately caribou 

 plunges wildly forward, and falling full length in the blood-stained 

 moss soon lies dead on his native barren. 



F.C. 



