"KEP" KILLS THE WRONG DEER: 161 



ious, fearing that the monarch of the party might get 

 away after all. Finally I caught a glimpse of his 

 monstrous head as he moved a little to one side, and 

 the next instant I glanced through the sights and fired 

 at what I supposed was his big white shoulder. At 

 the crack of the rifle Le BufFe jumped to his feet and 

 shouted, ' You missed him there he goes try him 

 again on the run ! ' I saw my mistake, and fired at 

 him as he was pulling out with the rest of the herd, 

 as they helterskeltered over the wet marsh at a tre- 

 mendous gait, making the water fly as high as 

 a two-story house in their mad flight but I only 

 succeeded in wounding him slightly. We then 

 took an inventory of what I had done with my 

 first shot, and found that ' I had hit two caribou 

 one a large stag, but with comparatively small 

 horns, and killed the other a doe. ' I am sorry the 

 big one got away/ said the guide. I was so mortified 

 at my loss and mistake that I don't think I spoke six 

 words on our way back to the lookout. It was then 

 about the middle of the day and Le Bufle 'biled the 

 kittle.' After lunch he climbed the tree again, and a 

 short time afterward we both noticed a little smoke 

 curling through the trees at the head of a small island 

 in the marsh, about three-quarters of a mile distant. 

 Le BufFe discovered, with the aid of the glass, that it 



