TWO FINE STAGS. 191 



been hit to where he had fallen was quite one 

 hundred yards, not one single speck of blood 

 conld I see on the pnre, new-fallen snow. And 

 yet where my '375 bore expanding bullet had 

 struck him in the shoulder it had torn quite 

 a large hole in the skin. I can only suppose 

 that the long thick coat had absorbed all the 

 blood oozing from the wound and prevented it 

 from falling on the snoAV. 



Just as I reached the dead bull I saw the 

 cow I had first seen and another fine bull — 

 though a much younger animal than the on ■ 

 I had already killed — about one hundred and 

 fifty yards further on ahead. They trotted 

 away when they saw me, but soon halted to 

 take another look, and I killed the bull with a 

 shot through the lungs. I now set to work, and 

 after disembowelling both the dead animals 

 skinned their necks and cut off their heads. 



By this time it was getting late, and I 

 did not get back to camp till after nightfall. 

 Mr. Sheldon had again had no luck, though he 

 had seen some fresh sheep tracks, and also the 

 footprints of a large bear. 



