FOREST AND STREAM 
f)8(i 
Newfoundland Guides Are a Serious Lot But Nothing Enthuses Them Like Success 
of a mile. I think, if I had been sure that he 
was going into the wood, I might have turned 
him with a shot, but I did not know what he was 
going to do until he was gone. Like the fish 
that gets away, I have always had a sickening 
feeling that that caribou was bigger than any 
other caribou we saw on the trip. Perhaps, had 
I got close to him, his majesty would have de¬ 
creased materially. 
At any rate he was gone and there was noth¬ 
ing to do but to put my gun over my shoulder 
and start back to camp for it was getting late 
and we had eight miles to go. The last two 
miles kept getting longer and longer and my 
rifle heavier and heavier and it seemed as thoug i 
we would never arrive- Smith was back and 
smoking and drying his socks before the fire in 
the tent. He had not had any luck as he had 
seen only half a dozen caribou cows and one 
stag and that not a good one. 
After supper Dan told us that we would move 
our camp the next day six or eight miles further 
on and that from there he thought we would 
strike the best caribou ground. As I had seen 
three stags that first day, and one an especially 
good one, it seemed to me it would be very 
simple to kill the legal limit of three stags. 
II. 
The longest shot kills the smallest head 
The big head falls without work or skill, 
The perfect shot with the perfect head, 
Long have we sought and are seeking still. 
The next morning was cloudy, looking very 
much like rain, and, though we were only going 
about six miles, we packed up everything and 
the whole party started off up to the high marsh 
and across it in the general direction of Millais 
Lake. The guides were, of course, pretty heavily 
loaded, although we left most of the supplies at 
the camp, expecting to send a man or two back 
for them as we needed more food. Even the 
two days had made a difference to me and I 
found that I carried my pack more easily. 
We had walked about two miles in somewhat 
the same direction that Dan and I had gone be¬ 
fore when we reached a height of land where 
everybody but myself sat down to rest. While 
I was standing with my pack still on my back 
looking off over the marsh I saw three cows and 
a' big stag coming across it about four hundred 
yards away. They would pass about three hun¬ 
dred yards from us and there was no cover. I 
called out to Smith that there was a stag and 
for him to shoot it. He replied that he would 
not as it was my stag and I had seen it first 
and as the stag proceeded across the marsh we 
continued to wrangle on the subject while Dan 
danced up and down and begged somebody to do 
something. Finally, Smith said the caribou could 
go as far as he was concerned; that it was my 
caribou because I had seen it first and that he 
was not going to shoot it under any circum¬ 
stances and that he didn’t think he could hit it, 
if he did shoot at it. 
As it seemed hopeless to continue this argu¬ 
ment forever I ran a little ahead with Dan till 
I could get a good view of the caribou and sat 
down with my rifle. I was using my German 
double barrel chambered for the Adolph Newton 
Express. As it has a very high velocity and 
shoots the Spitzer soft nose bullet I paid no 
attention to elevation but just let go. At the 
first barrel the stag jumped into the air and 
started from me on the run but I fired the sec¬ 
ond barrel instantly and staggered him. He was 
evidently badly hurt but kept on at a pretty good 
gait. He was getting further every minute and 
my next three shots had no effect so I started 
running after him, gaining on him a little when 
he stopped and swung broadside on to look back- 
I was about the same distance as when I fired 
first but this time I killed him with a shot 
through the lungs. 
On examination he proved quite a disappoint¬ 
ment. He had very long, tall horns, very much 
like an elk’s, but few points, only running nine¬ 
teen in all. While he was quite a fine looking 
animal, yet he was not the sort of head that I 
had come as far as Newfoundland to get and 
I determined that I would be more careful be¬ 
fore I fired in the future. Dan seemed satis¬ 
fied, however. He said that he knew it was 
not a very good head but he thought it was 
plenty big enough for the first. 
We had lunch then and there and we took out 
one bottle of our very limited supply of Scotch 
to wet the stag. What that party did to a quart 
of Scotch in wetting a stag was something awful 
and .1 saw that the four bottles we had brought 
with us on the trip would not be more than suffi¬ 
cient for wetting six stags; as for any idea of 
having a hot Scotch every night when we came 
in wet, that sweet dream vanished forever. We 
cached the head in a little bunch of woods so 
that, when one of the boys went back for the 
next load of grub, he could take the head out 
to the river. 
After lunch we pushed on four miles. The 
latter part of the going was very hard as the 
marsh was particularly soft, but finally we be¬ 
gan to go down hill. We struck a brook which 
ran down through a heavily timbered valley and 
had followed it for about a mile when Dan 
stopped and announced that here we would camp. 
(Continued on page 624 ) 
