A Newfoundland Caribou Hunt 



As he fired, I was conscious of seeing his 

 bull stagger to its feet, and stand there sway- 

 ing, and then my attention was absorbed by 

 my own, which rose and started to trot away, 

 side on. I fired, and apparently hit him, for 

 he stopped instantly, and stood, head down, 

 as if about to fall. I fired twice more, but the 

 limb I used as a rest swayed and bothered me 

 so that I missed each shot. Then I fired one 

 shot off-hand, and the bull pitched forward all 

 in a heap, with a bullet through his heart, 

 quite dead. 



My quarry disposed of, I turned to my 

 father's. His bull still stood, apparently badly 

 hurt and about to fall, but as the cows ran he 

 started to follow, regaining new life at each 

 step, until my father fired again, and the bull 

 went down like a log. 



We turned to the barrens, and a wonderful 

 sight met our eyes. The whole plains were 

 covered with grazing caribou. A half mile 

 away one band roamed. A little farther three 

 bulls, one of them a huge fellow, were daring 

 one another to fight. Beyond stretched a 

 waste with caribou everywhere. 



There, before us, lay the two bulls we had 



just shot, with the cows that were with them 



301 



