NEAR MIDDLE RIDGE. 137 



During the autumn months the Mic-macs migrate 

 to their hunting-grounds, where they trap a good 

 number of beaver and lynx. They are a cheerful and 

 improvident race. Why is it that the enchanting 

 quality of cheerfulness is often linked with this corre- 

 lative ? With their old muzzle-loading rifles, an axe, a 

 blanket, a box of matches, and a packet of tea, they 

 habitually make long journeys, often crossing the island 

 from the south coast to the railway. Although popu- 

 larly supposed by the settlers to "kill all they can 

 come up with," it is quite probable that they are far 

 more economical of animal life than their white brethren. 

 Among them some interesting customs still obtain. 

 For instance, I have heard it said that no Indian hunter 

 will ever kill a caribou stag without first whispering a 

 short speech or prayer addressed to it, in which he 

 regrets the hard necessity that compels him to fire the 

 death-shot, and adds his good wishes for the welfare of 

 the caribou in that land to which it is about to travel. 

 This at least, if true, does not suggest the spirit of the 

 reckless slaughterer. 



After spending some fruitless days hunting the high 

 ground we turned east and south, seeing stags almost 

 every day and always stalking or attempting to stalk 

 those we saw. None of them, however, carried a head 

 to compare with the one I had already secured ; so that 

 night after night we tramped back to camp, tired and 

 disappointed, until ultimately I gave up in despair 

 and recrossed the lake. 



I found Wynyard had shot an old stag whose horns, 

 although heavy, had " gone back," for the animal 

 must have been well past his prime. But on the 7th of 

 November Wynyard's luck came at last, and after an 



