THE GUN AT HOME AND ABROAD 
to kill one of those reindeer giants before I left their country. My two 
Indians and myself moved along theTanzilla River, and as we travelled my 
hunter Albert pointed out a high sugarloaf mountain to the north where 
he said a herd of the big caribou used to live. On my asking him if we could 
get there he replied that it was possible by cutting a trail through the 
forest, which would take two days. That day I killed a fine bull moose 
which cheered our spirits immensely, and so we turned up the mountains 
in the direction of the high hill we had seen. We reached a flat at about 
2,000 feet the same evening and camped, and during that evening and the 
following morning my Redmen worked like Trojans and cut down nearly 
a hundred trees in the forest above. The place was full of dangerous 
swamps and when we started in the morning one of the horses was found 
to be missing. After much searching “Hell-fire Mary,” a name richly 
deserved, was found nearly dead with cold, having sunk into a hole up to 
her nose. She was unable to move at first, but we built a big fire alongside 
her and gradually she thawed out and was able to proceed, though she 
was of little use for the rest of the trip. Her spirit was broken as well as 
her partiality for kicking out the brains of anyone who approached her 
incautiously. 
On the evening of the second day we emerged on the high ground at 
timber level and within 500 feet of the caribou ground. The following day’s 
hunt only revealed old spoor and the tracks of many wolves and a grizzly 
or two, but on the fourth day we were favoured with better luck. After 
ranging an immense area of ground that seemed just made for caribou 
Albert and I seated ourselves on a huge boulder to have some food, when 
the hunter suddenly pointed across the valley with his long red finger. 
I saw the deer at once and the glass revealed twenty -seven big bulls and 
two or three females. It was the most magnificent sight I have ever seen 
in the way of heads. All these Cassiar reindeer carry finer horns than 
those of most other regions and the poorest amongst them would afford 
a fine trophy. 
There were massive, long, rugged and spindly heads that all looked 
desirable, but the king of them all was a short “ snaggy ” head that looked 
as if it carried sixty points. It was certainly the shortest head in the herd, 
but if a caribou head can be said to be beautiful it was that, for all parts 
were magnificently developed except the second brow shovel. I made up 
my mind that I would fire at that animal alone if I was so lucky as to get 
within shot. 
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