A CAMP IN THE CARIBOU COUNTRY 
a long time flat on our stomachs. There were five bulls in 
all,—but no really shootable heads, the best being only fair. 
It was a pretty sight, this, and we lay watching the herd 
until numb with cold, when we made a move which set them 
off, at their awkward, shambling gait,—a pace which does not 
appear very fast, but which chews up distance, nevertheless. 
At 4.30, coming down to timber line, we stumbled on the 
winter trapping-camp of the Colbert family, this the one of 
which mention is made in the first part of the day’s history,— 
and it we converted to our own uses. Still have mutton on 
hand, and, having some age to it now, this has developed a 
most delicious flavor,—better far than that of any South- 
down I have tasted East. We are now practically assured 
of fresh meat for the rest of the trip! 
Left camp at 7.30 and climbed up mountain. Saw a herd 
of caribou in the distance and marked several good heads; one Sept. 23d 
we thought particularly fine. 
We made a long and careful stalk toward the spot where 
we believed to have located the best heads, the wind the 
while being anything but favorable. A fog too came in, and 
in this we saw what appeared a large head, and only seventy- 
five or a hundred yards distant. 
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