Reindeer Huntirvg in Norway 
By CHR. G. 
A BOUT the middle of last August I got 
a letter from my old hunting partner, 
who stays up in the mountains, in 
which he said: 
“Yesterday I saw a bunch of seventeen rein¬ 
deer passing toward the west Rond. There are 
lots of them here, and if you’ll come up a trip. 
I’ll guarantee you meat—if you can shoot 
straight. My hut is at your service—you know 
where to find the key; and if you come, I’ll try 
to be with you the day after the opening of the 
season.” 
Now this was tempting, especially as the rein¬ 
deer had just had a close season of five years, 
but I had already planned an outing after the 
ptarmigan, with my year-old Gordon setter pup, 
and as I could only spare about a week for my 
vacation, it was rather a difficult problem. 
At last I made a compromise. The season 
opened on the 25th of August, which came on 
a Sunday. Saturday noon found me on the 
train, and by night I was in my little cabin. 
Sunday and Monday the pup and I worked dili¬ 
gently, and Tuesday morning the through ex¬ 
press was taken for home. Not much of a 
trip, but enough to give the pup an idea of what 
was expected of him. 
During the week I spoke to a friend. Mr. F., 
about coming along, and he jumped at it at 
once; as he is one of the crack rifle shots of 
Norway, I thought he might come in handy. 
On the 31st of August we took the train for 
Otta, the end station of the line, both of us 
dressed in light-gray clothing, to harmonize 
with the moss and stones. Our rifles were the 
regular military Krag, cal. 6/5 mm.; good guns, 
but the trigger not fit for hunting, as it first 
has to be pulled back about half an inch, when 
it stops, then it takes about a four-pound 
pressure to make it go off. It is all right on 
the range, but if a fellow gets a little bit rattled 
and forgets, the bullet flies wild. 
On our arrival at Otta we were met by my 
friend’s brother Ola, who had a horse and cart 
for our luggage. The four miles we walked to 
Ola’s house brought the perspiration out, as we 
were dressed in thick woolens and the sun 
baked us unmercifully. The last half mile, which 
was very steep, particularly distressed my friend 
F., whose weight is on the wrong side of the 
200 mark. After resting a half hour, we started 
for the hut. with only the rifles and- enough grub 
for a couple of meals, as Ola did not like going 
in with the horse so late in the afternoon, he 
preferring to wait till next morning. We figured 
out that by hustling a little we ought to be 
able to make the hut before dark, and we did 
reach the dear old stone hut, where I’ve spent 
so many pleasant hours just as darkness closed 
down. Poor F. was just about done up though, 
as standing behind a counter selling guns all 
the year around is not the best of training for 
mountain climbing. 
Quickly a cheerful fire of juniper brush 
crackled in the soapstone stove, and F. proved 
that if he was done up in the legs, his appetite 
had not suffered a bit. Afterward a comfortable 
smoke, and when we turned in both of us were 
in dreamland within five minutes. The bunk 
was rather narrow, but by lying reversed, was 
made to do. 
We were up by daybreak and started for the 
foot of a mountain about a mile distant. Our 
plan was to stay there and watch for game, as 
this was a pass where they generally came, un¬ 
less very much frightened, when they would 
take to the extreme tops. We were there sev¬ 
eral hours without seeing anything, but enjoyed 
ourselves anyway, as the weather was perfect, 
and as Jack Frost’s magic finger had already 
gotten in its work on the creeping birch and 
lichens, the mountain plateau presented itself 
in its exquisite dress of gray, golden-brown and 
vivid scarlet. 
About noon we went down to the hut, to see 
if Ola had arrived, and on our way heard three 
shots in the distance. Afterward we found out 
they accounted for three deer an old hunter had 
gotten out of a bunch. In the afternoon we 
went a little further north, and as F. was too 
stiff from the previous day’s walking to go 
around much, I left him on a pass, while I poked 
around in different holes and pockets, but with¬ 
out result. When I joined F. again we found a 
comfortable place in the sun, lit our pipes and 
waited for something to turn up. I was already 
starting on a little snooze, when F., who had 
been looking around in all likely and unlikely 
places through the glasses, suddenly exclaimed, 
“I see deer!” And when I told him to “come 
off the fence,” or something similar, as he had 
said the same several times before during the 
day. he got hot, and handing me the glasses, ex¬ 
claimed, “Look yourself, on top the mountain 
straight ahead!” and sure enough there were 
some light-brown moving dots showing against 
the gray mountain. F. had happened to see 
them against the sky as they came across, or he 
would never have noticed them. 
The question was how to get at them? In 
order to get the wind right we ought to gc| 
around and come up the mountain on the other 
side, but this would take too long, as there was 
only about two hours of daylight left. To gel 
up on the left side was out of the question, as 
the ground was too open, besides being very 
steep. This left only the right, on which there 
was a precipice; by keeping along the edge 
there was a probability of finding cover, but the, 
wind again was rather unfavorable. 
On the whole we decided to await events, and 
moved over to one side to get the wind right,! 
as the deer seemed to be working down. There 
seemed to be about a dozen in the bunch, and 
they acted as though very much frightened, 
probably being the same out of which three had 
been shot earlier in the day. After watching 
them for half an hour a snow squall came along 
and blotted everything out of sight, and as] 
there seemed no chance of it abating we started 
for the hut rather down on our luck. 
The next morning the ground was covered 
with a couple of inches of snow, but the weathen 
being mild, there was no prospect of it staying 
and furnishing tracking snow. F. was still stiff 
in the legs and went up to the old stand, while 
I went up to the top where the deer had been 
seen; I no sooner got there than the fog 
shut down on me like a curtain, making me 
beat a hasty retreat. 
About noon we returned to the hut to ’see if 
E. had come and found him there. After a bite 
to eat we all started off and went over the same 
ground where I had been the day previous, but 
without result. On our way back to the hut 
we came to a long pocket in the mountain 
called the “Thomas Hole,” from a man by the 
name of Thomas, who in olden times used to 
. 
have pitfalls there, which, by the way, are still 
to be seen. E. inquired if we had examined it, 
and we told him we had passed by several times 
and looked in, but not all the way. “Well,” 
said he, “it’s a likely place, and we might as 
well look it over.” After proceeding a little 
way, E.’s eagle eye discovered a little tuft of 
grass which had been cropped short. “Not very 
fresh,” he said, “but here,” as he proceeded a 
few steps further, “they have been within a day 
or two; you had better have the shooting irons 
handy.” 
As we walked along the signs got more plenti¬ 
ful, and the droppings, both fresh and old,, 
showed that the animals had been there for some 
time. Every time we came to a bend or to a 
rise in the ground expectation ran high, but 
nothing was to be seen. At last we came to 
where a slide had run across the valley, making 
a ridge about 15 or 20 feet high. 
“Here,” said E., “is our last chance, if we 
don’t see them from the top, they are not in 
here.” Creeping carefully up, we looked into 
the bottom, which was probably about a thou- 
