CHAPTER II 



CARIBOU HUNTING NEAR LAKE ST. JOHN 



With such excellent sign of deer on all sides we made sure 

 that it would not be long before we saw our first stag, but 

 in this we were woefully disappointed. We stayed a week in 

 Selous' camp, tramping miles every day up the river, through 

 the forest, and on to the high ground, without seeing a single 

 stag, and only one fresh track of a big fellow, and of him, I 

 believe, I just caught a glimpse as he disappeared into a dense 

 alder bed. Soon I became weary of thrashing around in this 

 forest-bound country, and sighed for a place where I could 

 wander about in the open and look for things with my tele- 

 scope. Far to the north-west I could see with the glass an 

 inviting-looking country where the white men had never been — 

 so Saunders said, and Saunders had penetrated farther than 

 any one in the swampy regions. So we decided to move on, 

 as my guide said we could easily cut a road with the axe up 

 to the high ground, and that we should be nearly sure in 

 time to strike the main leads of the caribou that were known 

 to journey south-west from the eastern forests. It sounded 

 inviting, so we left the next morning, September 4, and 

 paddled to the northern corner, where a brook came in, A 

 disposition of the stores was soon made, and we started, 

 carrying bed, waterproof sheet, and food for three days. This 

 was enough for the present, for if things looked well Jack 

 could keep coming back to the lake to fetch whatever we 

 wanted. Saunders went in front with his axe and cut a path 



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