CARIBOU HUNTING 53 



On the night of September 17, Jack baked bread for 

 three days, as we had decided on a three days' tramp to 

 the east until the stags should show signs of moving past 

 the New Lake to the north, whence I hoped to go by-and- 

 by. As we left the wood close to our camp we came on 

 the fresh sign of a black bear not an hour old. 



" Shouldn't wonder if that cuss cleans out our camp while 

 we're gone," murmured Saunders reflectively, as he examined 

 it ; then as wc tramped along the old man indulged in a 

 few reminiscences. 



" A've know'd um do thet more'n once, and play funny 

 wid de whole outfit. There was an Indian named Stephen 

 lived down our bay a while back. He was just the best 

 trapper in Newfun'lan', an' he told me wance when I was 

 in, furrin' (trapping) wi' him, that one night he wakes up 

 sudden cos de fire had gone out, and across the glow he 

 sees a great black thing movin'. 



" ' Who's dere ? ' he call out, seizin' his gun. De feller 

 don't answer. So he rips at 'un and finds he's killed a 

 large black bear what's eatin' out of he's sugar-can. Stephen 

 he kill more bears than any feller in Newfun'lan', and one 

 fall he come to me and Jack's father and sed he'd shot the 

 largest kind of a bear 'bout ten miles back, and sed too 

 we could get all de fat and meat if we'd come. So he 

 an' little Jack here, he warn't more than a child o' ten 

 then, starts off, and late that evening we come to the 

 carcase. I never seed such a bear as that, 9 feet long, if 

 he was an inch, and I've seen as many bear in Newfun'lan' 

 as any one but Stephen. We started for home next 

 morning, little Jack here carryin' a load that made his 

 nose bleed, but he wouldn't give up or say a word, the little 

 varmint." 



