Newfoundland 



back for a year or so, the tips being rounded and 

 pointless. 



On opening the prize we found that his heart 

 had been cut right open by the heavy *500 bullet. 

 He was full of blood inside, and it was a marvel 

 that he had not dropped at once to my first 

 shot, instead of going, as he did, four hundred 

 yards before he succumbed. 



I was so delighted with my success that I felt 

 I could walk another twenty miles if necessary, 

 now that I had bagged two heads in one 

 day. 



After cutting off his head, we had to hurry on, 

 the light was failing. Pat took the big trophy, I 

 the smaller, with my rifle. 



The old saying, " It never rains but it pours," 

 proved the rule on this eventful day. For we 

 had not gone two miles before we saw another stag, 

 a small one, some four hundred yards away on 

 our right. We did not need meat, so I had no 

 designs on his life to destroy him would have 

 been wanton cruelty. Pat, however, could not 

 resist the temptation of waving the horns of the 

 stag he was carrying above the bush where we 

 were hidden, and this device proved so alluring 

 that the live animal walked to within fifteen 

 yards of our place of concealment. He took a 

 hurried departure when we both jumped up and 

 shouted at him. 



Caribou get over the ground marvellously 



27 



