238 HUNTING CAMPS. 



fire, and now rimmed in parts about the lower escarp- 

 ments with young birch. 



Leaving the canoe at the lake-head, we pressed for- 

 ward. The whole valley was covered with sign of caribou, 

 most of it, unfortunately, over a month old. Had I been 

 in Newfoundland, I should have concluded that ten or 

 a dozen animals had been summering in the thickets and 

 the alder-swamps. More than once we cut the yester- 

 day's trail of two animals, doubtless those which had so 

 nearly fallen to the prowess of the cook. 



All the morning we walked from height to height, 

 and from vantage-ground to vantage-ground, carefully 

 examining the wide expanses which stretched beneath 

 us. The country was beautifully open, and we saw 

 many horns which had been cast in previous years. 

 These were nearly perfect, not much chewed or nibbled, 

 as would have been the case with similar specimens in 

 Newfoundland. But of living caribou we failed to catch 

 the remotest glimpse. To make a long story short, we 

 travelled to our hearts' content, finding at least an 

 exhilaration in rapid movement, which we should hardly 

 have believed possible had we not recently spent 

 wearisome days watching the empty marshes about 

 the Lac Des Neiges. 



The morning and the afternoon were eventless, except 

 for one brief moment when, as we neared the summit 

 of a high hill which we had ascended to reconnoitre 

 the lie of the country, we came upon a pair of cock 

 grouse drumming among the dead trees. As it was 

 unlikely at the altitude we had attained that the noise 

 of a shot could do any harm, we decapitated both, and 

 they formed a very welcome addition to our larder. 



When hunting in the Canadian woods one often falls in 



