THE Broap BARREN. 67 

been unusually excited over this, to him, new kind of game, 
for although he was a keen shot for smaller game, he had 
yet to see and level on his first deer or caribou, and as they 
came and halted, with their eyes looking directly in ours, their 
heads high in air, such pictures to behold for the first time, 
upon the wild, white barren, and so quickly away again, he 
forgot he held a splendid rifle in his hand until they were out 
of sight. 
But the sequel proved he had recovered from the buck fever. 
While we have been busy with our work with our heads down, 
he has been watching a movement up the wind, and as he 
hangs the black kettle over a cheerful fire of dry juniper and 
turns to glance again he quickly reaches his rifle and crouch- 
ing upon one knee, old hunter style, gives the warning, 
** Hist!” We quietly settle down and half turning, see com- 
ing trotting down towards us a stately dame caribou, large 
and high headed. This was the boy’s chance, and well he 
improved it. She came in the tracks of the others before her, 
but not having the same curiosity, or being a little more wary, 
halted a long shot away, head on, to take a look at the picture 
before bounding. She had hardly made the stop when the boy’s 
rifle cracked, and you could see the lead strike as exactly in 
the centre of her forehead as if you placed a finger there, and 
the white brain shoot out like stars, with her dark forehead as 
a background. Down she dropped without the sign of a 
tremor, as dead before she settled to the ground as if killed 
_the day before. The boy was the lion for the season; we 
never saw a cooler shot for the distance. This gave another 
to care for, but our work in good time was well done, and 
cleansing our hands by repeated washing in the melting snow 
water beside the fire, we sat down to the welcome luncheon. 
