ELK-HUNTING IN NORWAY 125 



and lengthy stride as she covered rock, bog, and 

 birch-scrub at a fifteen-mile-an-hour gait, were a treat 

 to see, and largely explained how it is that elk can 

 vanish away in thick cover, softly and silently like 

 the snark (or was it the snark-hunter ?). This cow 

 was the only elk I caught sight of in the open. 



We returned home that night rather sceptical on 

 the subject of the big bull. But the sequel remains 

 to be told. Next day was devoted to hunting in the 

 thick woods on my own ground. And a red-letter 

 day, of varied incident, it proved to be. One end of 

 a high f jeld terminated in a steep bluff overlooking 

 these woods, round which bluff we had seen good bull 

 tracks ; and had indeed, on a previous day, followed 

 the trail of one phantom monster from dawn to dusk, 

 first over the bluff and across the f jeld, and then back 

 under it, without getting a shot or even a view. 



I determined on a change of tactics, and went on 

 alone to post myself on the bluff, whence a long 

 and sporting shot straight downhill through the trees 

 could be had at any elk taking that pass. The men 

 for Johan was out that day were instructed, after a 

 due interval, to hunt the thick woods underneath with 

 Rover, on the chance of moving a bull who might 

 go under the f jeld and past my butt. The unexpected, 

 of course, happened. I duly reached my post of 

 observation, and, after a casual glance at the woods 

 stretched out for miles below, spent some moments 

 in choosing a good seat and generally settling down 

 for a couple of hours' wait at least, when, on again 

 looking straight down into the trees below, there, a 

 good 120 yards below me, was the dark back and side, 

 now getting a somewhat familiar sight, of what was 

 obviously a good bull elk. He had no doubt been 



