110 NEWFOUNDLAND 



the place where he lay, and had we the space to have 

 carried the complete skin, I should certainly have brought it 

 home for the museum. 



Whilst Bob was attending to the head skin, I took the 

 telescope to view the magnificent panorama that now spread 

 itself before me. 



At our feet, glittering in the sunlight, was the Blue 

 Gander, and up this beautiful river, so like our Tay in 

 Scotland, one could see for four or five miles to the entrance 

 of Little Gull River away to the west. At the back rose 

 the mountains known as Serpentine Hill, of some 800 or 

 900 feet elevation, and spread out below, though gradually 

 rising away to the north, was a succession of woods and 

 open marshes, on any of which there was a good chance of 

 seeing the great white-necked stag or a black bear. 



Bob had scarcely commenced his work, and I had not 

 even begun to use the glass, for the prospect of the scene 

 was in itself delightful, when looking down I saw another 

 big caribou stag come out of the woods and walk quickly 

 across a wide open marsh about half a mile below. One 

 word to Bob was enough, and at a jog trot we set off 

 downhill, passing through two small belts of timber and a 

 mountain stream. Half the distance was overcome when it 

 was deemed necessary to view the position of our quarry. 

 Yes, there he was, right in the centre of the swamp, and 

 either feeding or drinking, for his head was down. There 

 was no particular hurry, so we advanced easily, and presently 

 found ourselves overlooking the open marsh. Now there was 

 nothing left but a good old-fashioned crawl with the cold 

 water running in at your collar stud and out at your boots. 

 This I did by myself till I reached a point within 200 yards 

 from the stag, where seeing him so quiet I turned round and 



