518 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Oct. 26, 1912 
surprise, I found that they were literally alive 
with red-spot trout. Unbelievable as it may 
seem, a fish line had never been cast in them. 
When I took my guide to task for not suggest¬ 
ing that I take my fishing rod along, he looked 
very much surprised, and said, “They fish is 
no good, Sir.” When I asked him if they did 
not eat the trout, he said, “Oh, no, Sir! We 
never tasted them. We likes cod. They’re 
bigger.” 
I went inland approximately ten miles from 
the water, through a country that, for barren¬ 
ness, could not be beaten in either Iceland or 
Norway. It seemed to be one continuous, up¬ 
hill tramp all the way, both in and out, one ridge 
rising above the other. When, after a tramp 
of a couple of hours, one reached what had 
looked to be the sky line, lo! away beyond 
rose another range, a little higher than the one 
on which you stood. After about ten hours of 
very difficult traveling, we reached our camp¬ 
ing place. Inasmuch as everything has to be 
packed in, I was compelled to take four men 
with me, each one loaded to the muzzle, as will 
be seen in the picture. 
The general custom in this section is to 
find the highest point from which the best view 
can be obtained of the surrounding country, 
and then sit down with glasses and look for the 
game. It is quite exceptional not to have cari¬ 
bou within sight at any time, but good, big 
heads are scarce articles, and, generally speak¬ 
ing, large numbers of caribou must be looked 
over before such a head comes in sight, justi¬ 
fying an effort to stalk it. From these look¬ 
outs, it is easy to see over a country approxi¬ 
mately five miles from the center of your circle, 
there being practically no timber growth. 
The season of the year that I made my trip, 
namely, the latter part of October, the stag 
caribou were in a very pugnacious mood—so 
much so that the big stags were wandering 
about, looking for foes to conquer. I saw 
much evidence of terrific battles that had taken 
place between these monarchs of the barrens. 
An old stag, traveling along with twenty does 
in his band, sighting another band, would start 
the battle, and to the victor belonged the spoils. 
Great care must be taken in stalking your 
caribou not to start a “drive,” which one or 
two little calves will do at almost any inoppor¬ 
tune moment. If you start a small band of 
caribou, they will go through a section of the 
country pell-mell, at full gallop, and every herd 
of caribou that sees the commotion will join in 
the chase, just like a flock of sheep. Once get¬ 
ting under way, such a band will not stop for 
twenty miles, and will, in all probability, carry 
with them every caribou in sight. In a section 
where there is more timber, this would not be 
likely to happen. It is absolutely useless to try 
to stalk a big head, if there are other caribou 
between you and your quarry, unless you make 
a roundabout circle to get to him. 
It is a delightful sensation to sit on these 
high elevations, where you can, see range after 
range of mountains, some of them fully fifty 
miles away, with game of some size or other 
constantly in sight—mountains, valleys, lakes 
and streams—everything to delight the eye of 
the nature lover. 
One must not expect that simply by go¬ 
ing to Newfoundland, he will be permitted to 
walk right up, select a head, and knock it over. 
There are many caribou, but, on a general av¬ 
erage, you will see fifty of these animals before 
you find a head that is worth while. A good 
many of the old fellows have, in probability, had 
previous experiences with hunters, and are 
wary. While I secured my three heads, I had 
to hunt as hard as I ever did in my life to get 
them. If you are willing to work for your 
specimens, and can kill them when you are in 
range, there is no doubt of your ability to get 
your full quota. 
The four men that I had to help me had 
none of them ever tasted either rum or tobacco, 
and were as nearly children of nature as one 
would ever meet. In worldly affairs, they were 
not educated, but they were natural born hunt¬ 
ers, and when a desirable head was seen through 
the glasses, a quick survey of the country was 
made by them, and a route to stalk laid out 
that, in each case, proved successful. 
As a diversion from caribou hunting and 
shooting, the ptarmigan were good sport and 
very plentiful. A man must not think of do¬ 
ing promiscuous shooting, however, until after 
he has secured his big game, or intends to leave 
the camp for some other camping spot. The 
cock birds begin to crow just as the first streaks 
of dawn show in the east, so that they make 
fine alarm clocks. There is no danger of over¬ 
sleeping on the barrens of Newfoundland! 
Of one thing be sure—you will never regret 
a trip to this strange island, discovered by 
John Cabot. It is distinctly different from any¬ 
thing to be found on our own mainland. 
After my return from this delightful trip, I 
heard stories of large bands of caribou to be 
found on the head waters of the Nipisiquit, in 
Northern New Brunswick. These caribou were 
of the woodland variety, while those of New¬ 
foundland were the barren ground. Desiring 
to have trophies of both species, I arranged a 
trip to that section of New Brunswick about 
Little Bald Mountain and the headwaters of 
the Nipisiquit. I took this trip the fall follow¬ 
ing the one to Newfoundland, and I am going 
to tell you just exactly what I saw. You may 
draw your own conclusions as to which place 
you would prefer to go to, were you contem¬ 
plating a hunt for caribou. 
After a journey of five days, I found my¬ 
self at my destination. The next morning my 
guide and I went from camp up to the barrens. 
Shortly after arrival, two small caribou hove 
in sight, at the point we intended to watch 
from. Then a band of eight others appeared, 
and others still, until I had seen twenty-nine 
caribou in approximately two hours. The rain 
starting in then, and coming down in torrents, 
we left our lookout and went back to camp. 
The weather having cleared during the night, 
we went up to the barrens again. As we looked 
over the ridge into what looked more or less 
like an amphitheater, our eyes fell upon a band 
of seventeen caribou, all feeding in a bunch to¬ 
gether. There were several heads that were 
fairly good, but nothing that came up to my 
standard of requirements. Inasmuch as in New 
Brunswick you are only allowed to take one 
head, and having had three Newfoundland 
heads, all good ones, I resolved to hold my 
fire until I found something so good that I 
would not stand much chance of seeing any¬ 
thing better. With this in mind, the guide and 
I watched this company until it disappeared 
over the sky line. A few moments later, five 
more came along; then another band of six¬ 
teen, and in this last lot there was a head on 
which I deliberated quite a while before decid¬ 
ing not to shoot. They kept coming and feed¬ 
ing by, down wind, in twos and threes, until 
KERMIT ROOSEVELT AND THE AUTHOR IN CAMP AT HEADWATERS OF THE NIPISIQUIT. 
