Megaleep the Wanderer. 3 



They were going at a splendid trot, rocking easily 

 from side to side like pacing colts, power, grace, tire- 

 lessness in every stride. Their heads were high, 

 their muzzles up, the antlers well back on heaving 

 shoulders. Jets of steam burst from their nostrils at 

 every bound ; for the thermometer was twenty below 

 zero, and the air snapping. A cloud of snow whirled 

 out and up behind them ; through it the antlers waved 

 like bare oak boughs in the wind ; the sound of 

 their hoofs was like the clicking of mighty castanets 

 - " Oh for a sledge and bells ! " I thought ; for Santa 

 Claus never had such a team. 



So they came on swiftly, magnificently, straight on 

 to the cover behind which I crouched with nerves 

 thrilling as at a cavalry charge, till I sprang to my 

 feet with a shout and swung my hat; for, as there 

 was meat enough in camp, I had small wish to use 

 my rifle, and no desire whatever to stand that rush 

 at close quarters and be run down. There was a 

 moment of wild confusion out on the barren just in 

 front of me. The long swinging trot, that caribou 

 never change if they can help it, was broken into an 

 awkward jumping gallop. The front rank reared, 

 plunged, snorted a warning, but were forced onward 

 by the pressure behind. Then the leading bulls gave 

 a few mighty bounds which brought them close up 



