THE GUN AT HOME AND ABROAD 
services of a good dog can seldom be obtained. The lack of trustworthy 
agents through whom hunters and dogs, as well as the right of hunting, 
may be secured, is also another obstacle in the way of the sportsman, who, 
however active and determined, can do nothing without these aids. 
Seven or eight years ago Namdalen, Sondredalen, and the adjacent 
valleys constituted probably the best elk ground in Norway, though it 
may not have been superior to Mo, the great elk forest to the north of 
Namsos, practically created by Colonel Walker and the late Sir Henry 
Pottinger. A short time ago some few Englishmen hunted the best of 
these grounds and enjoyed excellent sport, but now a great part of this 
tract of country has fallen into the hands of one agent — I am sorry to say — 
an unscrupulous fellow who lets the best of the ground to German sports- 
men, whilst the trashy bits are offered at high rents to others who, in 
ignorance of his wily ways, are too often led to take them. This gentleman 
met me at Namsos on my arrival, and was not too well pleased when he dis- 
covered that, having been previously warned of this little trick by two old 
sportsmen who knew all about it, I had taken care to secure some good 
rights in Namdalen direct from the farmer. Knowing now the sort of 
man I had to deal with, I was not altogether surprised when, some three 
weeks later, I heard through the telephone (a great institution in Norway) 
that he had sent up a German (who had paid heavily for his rights) to hunt 
my ground. Fortunately for me, the farmer was a man of mettle. He sent 
for the solitary policeman, who inspired terror and respect over a country 
half as big as Ireland, and he himself sat on the march with his rifle, 
declaring he would shoot the poachers if they dared to cross his ground. 
This settled the matter. I got what I had bargained for, and the German 
(who was not to blame) wrote me a very nice letter, explaining how he 
had been misled. What he said to the agent on his return I can only guess. 
It may be hoped that the rascal was shown up in the German papers, in 
which he so constantly advertised. 
With the invasion of the Germans the sport of elk hunting has rapidly 
deteriorated in quality. All the smaller holdings, which were formerly 
more or less undisturbed, are now annually tenanted, and the elk, espe- 
cially the cows, get no peace. Whether it is that Germany sends her most 
indifferent sportsmen to try their ’prentice hands on the poor old elk 
I do not know, but (with one single exception) a more unlikely -looking 
lot that assembled at the Namsos hotels at the end of the season I have never 
yet seen. Ye gods ! what tales of the chase and what hairbreadth escapes 
262 
