Trail and Camp-Fire 



Beaton, sighted a bull caribou a mile away 

 upon the beach. Instantly the march stopped, 

 and our glasses were leveled. 



As I had never shot a caribou, I was ap- 

 pointed a committee of one to bring him into 

 camp. I demurred, but my father insisted; 

 so he climbed into the dory, and William into 

 the canoe, I meanwhile unbuckling my .45-70 

 Winchester, and taking my seat in the bow. 

 Then, with a parting "good-luck," and bit of 

 advice not to shoot from too far off, we were 

 away, and as we left the motionless flotilla I 

 heard my father say: " That's all right; I'll 

 wager the boy gets him." And I trembled 

 for myself. Suppose I should miss in plain 

 sight of all ! 



William bore a friendly rivalry to Keller, 

 the Rocky Mountain man, and exerted him- 

 self to the utmost. The canoe was rapidly 

 and silently stealing toward a wooded point 

 that projected into the lake, some three hun- 

 dred yards to windward of our quarry, and I, 

 watching through my glasses, saw the bull 

 grow and grow, until he loomed a monster 

 indeed. Soon I could even count the larger 

 points upon his antlers, and I saw he had a 

 splendid head. 



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