348 Sporting Sketches 



snowflakes sifted down, hinting of another down- 

 fall, though there was already more snow than we 

 wanted. But there was little danger of anything 

 serious, and we didn't trouble about the weather. 

 After tramping for about three miles Jo discovered 

 the tracks of the caribou, but the beast itself was 

 not in sight. 



Jo decided that he would work across the barren 

 in case the game had doubled on its course, and 

 leave me to follow the track. " Me go 'cross, look 

 'long um tree. You run track, bymeby mebbe you 

 find um car'boo," and he waved his hand, indicating 

 that he would cross and then scout along the woods 

 on the farther side. 



I moved rapidly, while Jo was in the open, being 

 anxious to get far enough in advance of him to fore- 

 stall all possibility of his wind reaching the game 

 before I got within range. I had followed the track 

 until it was nearly noon, keeping a sharp lookout 

 ahead, before I caught a glimpse of the bull brows- 

 ing near the edge of the woods. A long look 

 through the glass told me that he was a magnificent 

 specimen, bearing a particularly fine set of antlers, 

 and that he was feeding near cover which promised 

 a comparatively easy approach to within certain 

 range. 



To obtain this splendid trophy was my firm re- 

 solve, if patient, skilful " creeping " counted for 

 anything. Working carefully well to leeward, the 

 shelter of the dense timber was at last safely gained 

 at a point some half mile from the game. I had 

 already put in a lot of hard work, and was half 

 wearied, but the golden prospect sustained me. 



