34 WILD LIFE AND THE CAMERA 



unbearable, and at 3 o'clock I gave up and returned 

 to camp. By 5 o'clock it was snowing hard, and 

 all night the soft flakes pattered gently on the 

 tent, each one adding to my hopes. When I got 

 up this morning at 5.30 the moon was setting in a 

 clear sky. The country looked as beautiful as 

 it always must when the evergreens are snow- 

 covered. Not a breath of wind stirred the trees, 

 and everything was so exquisitely quiet that it 

 seemed an act of sacrilege to break the stillness 

 with the sound of the axe. This snow was bound 

 to bring the Caribou, and I hurried through 

 breakfast, scarcely waiting even to share my 

 porridge with my favourite Canada jay. With 

 disgust I saw the sky becoming overcast, and before 

 I left the camp a film of grey had hidden the blue. 

 Now I am once more in the whitened bhnd, wish-, 

 ing the sun would come out to make the snow sparkle 

 and help me with my photographic work. There ! 

 I hear a splash in the river not four hundred yards 

 away. Another and another, in quick succession. 

 It is Caribou, and they are evidently going to land 

 at the leads which I am watchmg. Everything is 

 ready but the hght, which is pitifully bad. They 

 are coming. What a herd that was ! Fully seventy- 

 five, with many good stags, but they came so fast, as 

 though impelled with the fear of bad weather, that 

 a quick exposure was impossible. Nothing could 

 stop the maddened herd and they rushed past me 

 within a few feet, the band separating as they 

 reached the blind, going so close that I could put 

 out my hand and touch them as they pass. Excit- 

 ing ! It certainly was. It was exhilarating, and 



