RETURNING TO THE "LAST WOOD" 269 



when I heard a sound that, though strange, seemed some- 

 what like the wind, and I gave Beniah a questioning look, 

 and he, answering, said " Ethcn" I should have thought 

 he was joking but for the haste with which the Indians 

 grabbed their guns and made off in the direction whence 

 the noise came. When I looked down from the ridge, 

 sure enough, there, about a quarter of a mile away, was a 

 huge herd of caribou on the full run, and it was the noise 

 made by their hoofs in the snow that I had mistaken for 

 the wind. 



There must have been several hundred in that herd, and 

 it is comment enough on Indian hunting to say we secured 

 four caribou out of the lot. I astonished the Indians into 

 a chorus of " nesons " (good), and, I confess, surprised my- 

 self also, by bringing down a bull that was going fast 

 about two hundred and fifty yards away. 



The two following days were cold and foggy, the fog 

 on the first day rivalling the density of the London ar- 

 ticle. 



Late in the afternoon of the first day we saw musk-ox 

 tracks as we were crossing a lake, and followed them for a 

 a couple of hours, until they disappeared in the drifting 

 snow. 



The second day was just as cold, but the fog had light- 

 ened somewhat when, at two o'clock in the afternoon, a 

 band of musk-oxen were sighted about three miles off 

 along the side of a ridge. As I had as many musk-oxen 

 as I wanted, and no wish to shoot for the mere killing, I 

 gave my rifle to Beniah, shouldered my camera instead, 

 leaving my dogs to be unhitched by the Indians, if they 

 wanted them because some of the Indians were already 

 in full run. 



Our party had been progressing southward in two col- 

 umns, separated by about a mile, with scouts out on either 



