THE GUN AT HOME AND ABROAD 
“ Wolves,” ejaculated Albert, as if in answer to my thoughts. We searched 
the surrounding hills but not a wolf was in sight. I kept the glass on them 
till my eyes watered and then a strange thing happened. The bull suddenly 
charged past the retreating does and, lowering his head, stopped them on 
the path. They tried to dodge past him but he was too quick and, with a 
flourish of his grand horns, headed them back in the direction from which 
they had come. As quickly as they had retreated they returned, galloping 
along the hillside, and soon passed their resting ground, heading straight 
for our position. It was a moment of intense excitement. On they came to 
within eighty yards and then stopped, broadside on. I had merely to raise 
my rifle and plant a bullet behind the shoulder and the great caribou was 
mine. At the shot the deer on the far hill bunched together and might have 
stood but for the fact that my pony, hidden in the wood behind us, broke his 
halter and galloped out towards the herd. So strange a spectacle alarmed 
the caribou and precipitated their retreat, so that I only took two hopeless 
shots at about 400 yards. But the great head was mine. Though he had 
only fifty -three points and not sixty he is one of the finest trophies ever 
shot in the north-west, and I do not think that one with a larger number 
of points has been killed west of the Rockies. The tops were of great 
massiveness and carried a double row of snags, a very rare feature in 
any race of reindeer. The following day I had the good luck to find another 
very good bull with some smaller ones and, getting an easy shot, secured 
another fine example of this race. The brows and bays, as is the case with 
so many of these caribou, were very poor, but the tops were magnificent 
and much palmated and the length of the horn 57 inches. 
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