132 ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS 



ened, and there seemed no obstacles I could not surmount 

 to reach my quarry. There were the tracks, sure enough, 

 in broad paths like those made by cattle, quite fresh- 

 probably yesterday's. We moved slowly along the ridge, 

 Joseph, Jeremi, Munn, and I, in Indian file, scanning the 

 willow- surrounded swamps on either side, each stepping 

 in the other's shoe -prints, but making quite a bit of 

 noise, nevertheless, for the snow was hard, and the shoe 

 crunched and cracked it with alarming effect on the 

 nerves of the stalking hunter. Fortunately a strong wind 

 blew in our faces. In half a mile the tracks multiplied, 

 and were very fresh made that day so we took off our 

 snow-shoes and in one another's footsteps continued on as 

 noiselessly as possible. 



And now the ridge, hitherto thickly covered with pop- 

 lar and pine, became a bare backbone which stretched 

 away about 125 yards between swamps, and ended in a 

 sharp rise thickly grown with small spruce. 



We had not advanced ten yards farther when we dis- 

 covered, simultaneously, I fancy, for we all crouched and 

 drew our rifles out of their coats together, a shaggy head 

 about 115 yards in front of us. A second and careful look 

 told me it was a bison cow about two years old, with fore- 

 head sprinkled with either gray or white hair on a back- 

 ground of light brown. She was standing under the 

 spruce and just over the rise of the ridge, so I could see 

 only her forehead, eyes, and horns, which were about six 

 inches long, and straight out from her head with slight 

 curve at tips ; I could not see her muzzle. The wind 

 was in our favor, and she had not scented us, though from 

 her vantage on the knoll she had heard and evidently 

 seen us before we sighted her. 



Munn and I had not before hunted bison, but our hunt- 

 ing experience was sufficient to make action under such 



