THE CARIBOU 
At the moment the herd was lying in a pocket underneath a long snow- 
brae or small glacier and the position of the deer was so admirably chosen 
that the wind came over the top of the hill and swirled down and completely 
round their position. The question of an immediate stalk was, therefore, 
impossible, but the formation of the ground was such that when the deer 
rose to feed, as they were sure to do in an hour or two, they were bound 
to descend to a small plateau about 300 yards below them. Across this 
the wind swept directly to within 200 yards of a long clump of dwarf 
spruces about 4 feet high. After partaking of our lunch and tying up the 
horse, Albert and I made a wide circuit and soon reached the tiny wood 
in question. The wind was steady as we surmised and it was now only a 
question of patience. Hour after hour went by and we were chilled to the 
bone ere the first bull rose to his feet and looked about. His example was 
soon followed by others, and to my intense joy they walked slowly down 
the hill in our direction. All, in fact, moved off except the big fellow whom 
I had marked as my prey. On, on they came, very slowly, until the first 
reached the moss on our level at a distance of about 120 yards, then down 
went his head and he commenced to feed. Each bull filed by within easy shot 
until one with a head of, I should say, over 60 inches, stood at broadside 
and offered an easy target. The laconic Albert then turned to me and said: 
“ Why you not shoot. There is not better in Cassiar.” 
I felt the truth of his remark and was sorely tempted, for what he said 
was probably true from his point of view. A longer head I have never seen — 
nor shall see — but it meant that if I fired the sixty -pointer would vanish 
and that ever afterwards I should blame myself for yielding to his advice. 
So I merely pointed to the big bull that was still lying in the hollow, whereat 
Albert grunted and said nothing further. 
The caribou in front of us fed slowly away and crossed the valley to the 
other side but the resting deer never moved for another half an hour. 
It was bitterly cold and I was shivering, and that is not good for shooting. 
Moreover, troubled with bronchitis as I was, I could hardly breathe in 
the rarefied atmosphere. At last I looked up for the hundredth time and 
there he was on his feet with the two does, moving slowly off, but not in 
our direction. They climbed some steep rocks and the bull at once followed 
them, and then, coming to level ground, they began to trot and then to 
gallop straight away. It was the most disappointing sight I had seen for 
years. But what on earth were they doing thus leaving the rest of the herd 
at such a time! 
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