248 NEWFOUNDLAND 



my camp and Little Gull River as far as Great Rattling 

 Brook, was full of deer, principally consisting of big stags, 

 mostly old fellows "going back." On 26th September I saw 

 eight stags, either by spying from high trees or still-hunting 

 in the timber. Four of these got the wind or heard us 

 and there was no chance of seeing their heads, and three 

 proved to be old fellows whose days of good horn growth 

 had vanished. 



Just as we turned to come home in the evening we found 

 ourselves in a series of little stony hills close to the river. 

 The wind blew directly in our faces, and in rounding one 

 of these litde mounds we suddenly came upon a very large 

 stag with his head down in a hole of moss. His eyes were 

 completely obscured, and so he had neither seen nor smelt 

 us. It was very interesting to survey a big stag, for he 

 was a very large fellow, within 15 yards, without his being 

 aware of our presence. He bore an extraordinary head, 

 not on account of its size, but on account of its smallness. 

 A complete caribou head was there with double brows, 

 good bays, and tops, but the whole was not larger than 

 that carried by a good three-year-old. I stood regarding it 

 with interest, whilst Joe whispered, "That's a curiosity head 

 and you must shoot it," which I did after some hesitation. 



If the reader is interested in horns he must be struck 

 by the curious disparity this head bears to the long-horned 

 specimen which I had killed during the past week. In fact, 

 amongst the Newfoundland caribou I have shot every type of 

 horn that is supposed to exist amongst the various so-called 

 sub-species which inhabit Western British Columbia and Alaska. 

 Forms of horns alone are by no means a sure test of species 

 or sub-species, although it is well to bear in mind that every 

 local race of deer has a certain general type of its own. 



