106 HUNTING CAMPS. 



We now climbed an eminence that commanded a 

 stretch of likely-looking country, all barrens red with 

 moss and patched with trees. Here we sat down and 

 kept a good look-out. Shortly we saw the white shine 

 of a deer's neck moving among some trees ahead of us. 

 Taking advantage of the fact that we were well screened 

 from sight, we ran across the intervening spaces and lay 

 down in a thicket. 



I must say here that, in my opinion, more caribou 

 are lost through " pottering round " than in any other 

 way. If you watch a stag cross your track, you see 

 him leap up into the air and he is gone for ever ; or 

 let him get the wind of you a mile off, and your chance 

 is generally over. On the other hand, the eyesight of 

 the caribou is poor. Midway between his sense of smell 

 and power of sight comes his hearing, which is neither 

 very good nor very bad in open ground, though earlier 

 in the year he is a hard beast to kill in the green timber. 



But to return to the stalk. We were still lying in 

 the bush when, about two hundred yards away, a doe, 

 old as the damsel of the evening star, came into view, 

 followed at no great distance by other does. Behind 

 them the bushes parted and gave up an old and ragged 

 stag. The whole party passed along quite close, not a 

 hundred yards from us. The old stag had a good wild 

 head, but the left top was represented by a single 

 jagged, broken spike, so of course I let him go in 

 peace. 



All the morning we loitered among the barrens round 

 Island Pond, and saw two or three more stags, but none 

 worth shooting ; indeed, I had made up my mind that 

 nothing under forty points, or its equivalent in weight 

 or length, should tempt me. 



