130 HUNTING CAMPS. 



from shore to shore, a distance of over two miles. Up 

 to this time, although we had seen twenty-eight stags, 

 neither of us had fired a shot, and I was beginning to 

 think with sincere regret of the fine thirty-five-pointer 

 of Island Pond. Frequently at this time, when Jack 

 looked gloomy, if I asked him the cause he would 

 answer, " That stag of Island Pond had a shocking 

 head ! " " Shocking " and " dreadful " are, curiously 

 enough, two of the highest terms of praise that a 

 Newfoundlander can bestow upon a caribou trophy. 



We had had more than our share of rain up to this 

 period, and I was awakened as usual on the following 

 morning by the hammering of raindrops upon our 

 lean-to. I had opened my eyes, when I heard some- 

 thing moving near by on the isthmus of the Narrows, 

 and, looking out, I saw a fine stag, accompanied by 

 two does, staring at the camp. After a short interval I 

 could have shot this stag from my bed as he moved 

 round to get the wind, but the remembrance of the 

 stag of Island Pond, which carried a far finer head, 

 withheld me, and presently one of the does got to 

 windward and the three instantly disappeared, with a 

 tremendous splashing of water. 



All day the rain held on, blowing up before a strong 

 south-east wind ; through which Wynyard and Frank 

 arrived. But the morning of the 28th broke beautifully 

 blue, and we crossed the lake to its western end. We 

 now had all about us absolutely virgin country, and 

 when Wynyard, who had walked round part of the 

 way by the shore, joined me we spent most of the day 

 exploring it. We saw but little sign of caribou, as the 

 woodland was thick, so in the afternoon Jack and I 

 climbed up through a wide expanse of green timber on 



