IN TIMBER AND BRtlLEE. 255 



So day after day passed, until there remained but one 

 before that on which I had arranged with Mousqueton 

 in default of a better man to come out with his 

 waggon and another horse, that he described as " good 

 and confiding," to convoy us back to civilisation. We 

 determined to make one final effort, although it seemed 

 that the caribou had migrated some days earlier towards 

 their winter quarters. 



In the morning, however, Ed woke strong in the 

 belief that the gods would send us adventures, because 

 he had dreamed a lucky dream. I myself was not with- 

 out hope, for the last day has proved time after time 

 lucky for my companions and occasionally for myself, 

 Sure enough, about eleven o'clock, as we were walking 

 through a grove of young birch which grew upon a 

 steep hillside, we cut a broad trail, evidently made by a 

 band of some twenty caribou. It was clear from the 

 tracks that they were feeding, and consequently our 

 hopes became very bright. Amongst a medley of small 

 slots ran a series of large ones that could only have been 

 made by a big stag. 



After some twenty minutes' tracking, during which 

 the herd most considerately travelled in a straight line 

 up-wind, a dozen grey shapes sprang out of the bushes 

 above us, immediately followed by three more from 

 some spruces and alders some hundred yards in front. 

 One of these three was the stag. I do not think 

 I should have shot at him, for as he made off his horns 

 looked slight and thin. As it turned out, I should 

 have been quite wrong in letting him go. However, 

 Ed, who had a clearer view, saluted him three times 

 without hesitation. It was not an easy chance, but 

 following his trail we found blood, and behind the next 



