206 SPORT IN NEWFOUNDLAND 



Our camp was pitched in a dense wood, for 

 after the great forests of Vancouver the New- 

 foundland timber looks insignificant and only 

 worthy of the name of wood. A good clearing 

 had already been made by Steve on his trapping 

 expeditions, and poles for pitching the fly were 

 lying ready. We soon had a most comfortable 

 camp pitched, and with plenty of food and a 

 tot of rum to mark the occasion of arriving 

 in our permanent camp, we passed a happy 

 evening, smoking our pipes in front of a glorious 

 camp fire and discussing the plans and the 

 prospects for the future. 



We decided to make this our main camp, 

 leaving here most of our stores, and to make 

 flying trips, at first west into the thickly wooded 

 country where the stags were most likely to be 

 found at this time of year, and later north-east 

 up to the barrens and Shoe Hill Ridge. 



This was Steve's advice and I naturally 

 decided to follow it. I had originally thought 

 of working north by Mount Sylvester, striking 

 the higher waters of the Terra Nova River and 

 so down to the railway at Terra Nova, which 

 would have been a shorter way back to St. 

 John's; but Steve told me that last season he 

 had been with a party of Americans who came 

 in from Terra Nova, and that the country had 

 been shot out, as they never saw a decent stag 



