204 
WILD NORWAY. 
share his rest.* The reindeer never hides in scrub or 
dense forest as does the elk; he has no nasty nocturnal 
or crepuscular habits like bear and boar, ibex, and some 
other kinds of deer. The broken character of his haunts 
is, moreover, all in favour of the stalker. The pursuit, 
indeed—once game is viewed—is largely a matter of 
hardish running, so as to keep in touch while out of 
view. There is but little climbing and still less of the 
creeping and serpentine progression usually associated 
with the term “stalking;” though it is often necessary 
to worm over an open bit, or to crawl a few yards to 
gain a shelter or cross a sky-line. 
Equipment.— Where the stalker is lodged in a hut 
or sseter, he can of course have attendants who keep 
fires going, dry clothes, and make things generally com¬ 
fortable. But huts are rare on the highlands, and a tent 
has an advantage in portability, for camp can thus be 
shifted at will all over the wide range of the fjeld. 
Tent-life, however, demands some forethought, or grave 
discomforts may ensue. I offer the following hints to 
those about to essay it for the first time :— 
1. Bemember that the cold and wet on these 
heights are apt to be far more severe than one would 
imagine possible while packing (in a hot sun !) at home, 
or even in the subjacent Norwegian valley. Bring, 
therefore, what may appear a superabundance of the 
* The only other game-beast in my knowledge that so entirely 
fulfils the stalker’s ideal is the chamois ; but then his haunts are— 
well, any self-respecting biped (other than a hunter) would be 
ashamed to be “ found dead ” in such spots. The fjelds of Norway, 
with their break-neck gorges, snow-fields, and miles of stone-heaps, 
are bad enough going ; but they bear no comparison with the 
Riscos and steepled rocks of Biscay, where the chamois flourishes 
above the clouds. 
