54 THE DEER FAMILY 



rode much of the time in the woods, but crossed many 

 beautiful little glades carpeted with wild flowers so 

 numerous as to make the ground look like a brilliant 

 rug. The blue-grouse were abundant and tame, and 

 in the afternoon I decided to shoot some of them for 

 supper. A few moments after my first shot we came 

 to the shore of a small mountain lake, and here saw 

 the fresh tracks and droppings of a large band of 

 elk, which had evidently been alarmed at my shot and 

 had trotted away across a little meadow into the forest 

 beyond. We immediately decided to camp beside the 

 lake and go in pursuit of the elk. 



Our guide was a thorough woodsman, an old trap- 

 per, who had seen Indian fighting and was a sure shot 

 at game. He was as taciturn as the ideal Indian of 

 romantic fiction and seldom spoke unless spoken to. 

 He dismounted without excitement, pointed to the 

 huge tracks in the soft ground and said " Elk." He 

 suggested that one or two of us accompany him while 

 the rest made the camp. With a friend I followed him 

 to the edge of the woods, where he enjoined silence 

 and pointed again to the trail, which indicated that 

 the animals were somewhat separated, and, deployed as 

 skirmishers, we stole softly into the woods. The guide 

 held the left, I was in the centre, and my friend on the 

 right. It was not very difficult walking at first, but 

 the small timber was so thick that I could not see 

 far ahead and soon lost sight of my companions. 



I had never seen a live wild elk. I had visions of 

 those I had seen in zoological gardens. My heart beat 

 rapidly. Assuming the posture of the deer stalkers I 

 had seen pictured in books leaning somewhat forward, 



