248 SPORT IN NEWFOUNDLAND 



Droke. They came back having seen nothing. 

 We plodded along, a sorry crew, in the pouring 

 rain, but somewhat refreshed by the hot tea. 



As we came in sight of a big lake lying south 

 of the Shoe Hill Droke for which we were bound, 

 we saw a good stag lying on the far side of the 

 lake. The head certainly looked the biggest 

 I had seen, but it was hard to use the telescope 

 in the rain and I could not make out the points. 

 However, both Steve and I saw that he had 

 very big frontals, though I could only make out 

 two points on the tops. 



The wind was all wrong and to get a stalk 

 meant going right round the lake, about three 

 miles. The other two men would have had 

 to wait in the rain, and as we were all feeling 

 pretty wretched, we decided to leave him and 

 push on to camp. The decision was mine and 

 I shall always regret it, for I believe he carried 

 the best head we saw on the trip, but I thought 

 as we were to hunt for a week on the Shoe Hill 

 Ridge we had a fair chance of coming on him 

 again, so we passed on to camp. He got our 

 wind at least a mile away and cleared out over 

 a ridge and never was seen again. We got to 

 camp about 5 o'clock and were soon warming 

 and drying ourselves before a roaring fire. 



We were now in the Shoe Hill Droke, and in 

 the centre of what Millais described as the 



