i 



TELLING HOW 'TWAS DONE 



A DEER HUNT IN THE HILLS OF ALGOMA 



By JOHN BOYD 



" WAY up in Algoma, 

 where the tall moun- 

 tains of the Killarney 

 chain hedge in the 

 valleys that shape the 

 broken course of the 

 broken watered Ver- 

 million, lies the range 

 of the fleet-footed 

 deer, the gigantic moose, the cautious 

 caribou, and the other equally interest- 

 ing inhabitants that shun the haunts of 

 men. In the same hills is also a mag- 

 netic loadstone that entices the mem- 

 bers of the Wa-bi-giz-ig Club from the 

 realms of city life to the more appetiz- 

 ing one of the primeval forest. Year 

 by year we journey to this northern 



wilderness, so that, sick or well, old 

 Camp One annually shelters a happy 

 family of hunters, who find the great- 

 est joy of the year in the log shanty 

 facing the noisy, rushing, dark-watered 

 Vermillion. Here we find in the same 

 bunks, officers of King Edward and 

 Uncle Sam ; oil magnates ; lumber 

 kings ; and plain railroaders, all form- 

 ing a united circle', and enjoying the 

 freedom which comes from a contact 

 with nature and her boundless realms. 

 In the evenings, the nipe of peace is 

 indulged in by the dusky Chippewa 

 guides with as much relish as his white 

 brother does his fragrant Havana, 

 while the "Walking Boss," whose do- 

 main we temporarily inhabit, fills his 



532 



