134 HUNTING CAMPS. 



we came upon a large flat rock. The top of this rock 

 formed a slight depression filled with shallow soil where 

 grass and low shrubs were growing. To the north- 

 west lay a huge marsh, in the centre of which a doe 

 caribou with a comparatively large pair of horns was 

 feeding. The sun had come out deliciously warm, 

 so that Wells and I lay down upon the top of the 

 rock and gave ourselves up to a desultory consideration 

 of the big doe's movements. We must have been there 

 half an hour before Wells suddenly said, " Look at the 

 big stag. That is a brute." This again is one of the 

 top notes of Wells' vocabulary of appreciation. I 

 looked up just in time to see a large stag in the act 

 of slowly rising from a depression fringed about with a 

 growth of young spruce, where the nature of the 

 ground had hidden him completely from our view. 

 There was no need to take the telescope, as even at 

 the distance which divided us it was plain that his 

 horns were broad and heavy. Whether we should 

 ever have a closer view of him was a question much 

 more open to doubt, as he was standing in the very 

 centre of the marsh and the wind was exceedingly 

 unfavourable. There was but one thing for it, and that 

 was to approach him from the farther side. 



The surface of the country in most parts of New- 

 foundland, and more particularly among the bogs and 

 marshes, is peculiarly ill-adapted to running, but as 

 both deer seemed uneasy we endeavoured to make our 

 circle at the highest possible speed. Certainly we 

 covered our two miles round in fair time, and reaching 

 the other side of the marsh we flung ourselves down for 

 a moment's rest. On rising I found to my disgust that 

 the wind had veered, and in order to make our approach 



