50 NEWFOUNDLAND 



air and took a few long slinging steps to the rear. Then 

 he gave one wild comprehensive survey of the landscape, 

 kicked some stones into the air, and galloped away out of 

 sight as hard as his legs would carry him. 



We now ran forward, and on rounding a belt of forest 

 saw my stag lying dead in the open. My last shot had 

 taken him right through the heart. The head was a very 

 ordinary specimen of that grown by the average Newfoundland 

 caribou. 



During the walk home it was terribly hot, and Saunders, 

 having the head to carry, became thirsty, and most unwisely 

 drank some water out of a stagnant pool. When we got to 

 camp he complained of feeling ill, and could eat nothing. 

 Unfortunately, too, the brandy had been left down at the 

 boats on Lake St. John, so it was daybreak before Jack 

 started to fetch the only medicine we possessed. By the 

 evening Saunders was much better and ate some dinner, 

 and next morning expressed himself as quite recovered and 

 able to try the ground near the New Lake on which I had 

 fixed some hopes. 



At the east end of this lake, which was a large sheet of 

 water some twenty-five miles round (and now named after 

 me), is a broad open marsh. This space connected two 

 great forests, and by all reasoning we assumed that many 

 of the deer that would eventually come from the northern 

 woods must cross this flat to reach the southern woods. It 

 was directly in the line of migration nearly south-west, and 

 so we decided to go down and examine the marsh, and, if 

 there should be a good show of "leads" passing across it, 

 to camp there for a week and let the deer come to us. 



Jack came with us as usual now, for he was a sociable 

 fellow and hated being left in camp by himself ; and, as 



