December, 1918 
FOREST AND STREAM 
685 
Caribou carcasses, property of natives, stored on the beach prior to being shipped 
T HE twenty-eighth day of October we 
entered into the real spirit of the 
hunt, but before describing my first 
experience in caribou shooting I might 
make a few remarks on the nature of the 
country and the methods of securing the 
game which are commonly in use. 
Hinds Plains, our hunting ground, was 
named after an ancient trapper whose line 
of traps covered this swampy moor for 
many a weary mile. It is bounded on the 
east and west by long ranges of hills which 
widen out at their northern extremity and 
narrow down as they stretch away south¬ 
ward towards -Red Indian Lake. This 
double range of hills, and also the wide 
expanse of Grand Lake, form a natural 
pass—in fact a trap through which the 
great herds of migrating caribou must 
necessarily pass every fall on their journey 
to the south coast. It is little wonder that 
relics of the Red Man’s hunting are still 
found in this section and that even today 
it is the most likely spot on the Island in 
which to obtain caribou. Native “meat 
hunters” may be encountered here who 
have journeyed a distance of one hundred 
and fifty miles by rail in order to obtain 
their winter’s meat supply. 
In hunting caribou during the October 
migration entirely different tactics are em¬ 
ployed than would be practicable in the 
early September season. In the late sum¬ 
mer the “deer,” as the Newfoundlanders 
call them, travel along the higher dry bar¬ 
rens and graze around the open ponds 
where one must stalk them like big game, 
but during the migration the best method 
is to lie in ambush in the path of the trav¬ 
elling herds and adhere to the principle of 
“watchful waiting.” A “gaze” or “blind” 
is constructed not so much for the purpose 
of concealment as for a wind-shield or 
shelter from the severe storms which 
sweep over this bare and scantily wooded 
country and add to the hunter’s hardships. 
F ROM all points of view the migration 
of caribou is one of the most inter¬ 
esting phases in the life of our larger 
North American animals. By nature the 
caribou is a restless, 
roving beast, always 
looking for a better 
feeding ground than 
the one he happens 
to be in. In fact the 
life of the caribou 
consists of a series 
of migrations which 
only terminate in his 
being shot, or killed 
by the forces of na¬ 
ture when old age 
overtakes him. The 
animal is born in the 
midst of its mother’s 
journey to the sum¬ 
mer feeding grounds 
in the northern part 
of the Island. The 
season of birth is 
May or June and the 
fawns can follow 
thpir mothers when 
they are about three 
days old. Their abil¬ 
ity to run over bogs 
is simply marvelous. 
They are adapted to 
such country by a 
high specialized de¬ 
velopment of the 
hoofs and dew claws, 
which spread over a 
large surface of 
ground, and so aid 
materially in sup¬ 
porting the weight. 
Sense of direction is an inherited trait 
in the caribou. We saw one little lonely 
fawn whose mother had probably been 
killed, and it was travelling as directly to¬ 
ward the south as if in the company of a 
large herd. It was first sighted during a 
light flurry of snow wending its way alone 
around mud holes, through swamps, over 
snow drifts, coming up nearly into our 
camp, but always keeping a true southerly 
course. This little creature knew the way 
even though he had undoubtedly never been 
over the ground before, but fate failed to 
guide him clear of the greedy meat hunter 
and he was cut down by a native who 
could see nothing more interesting in a 
caribou than the small amount of meat it 
furnished. These men who hunt for meat 
are a bloodthirsty lot. They do not hesi¬ 
tate to kill in excess of their legal allow¬ 
ance of three caribou. Indeed, I have seen 
two slaughter ten caribou within sight of 
where I stood, and within a quarter of an 
hour. The wholesale butchery of caribou 
in Newfoundland is a revolting sight. 
There were scenes that made me turn away 
in order to forget the gruesome tragedies. 
This is just a part of what has been oc¬ 
curring for many years, but the toll of 
death has had its effect and the fate of 
Newfoundland’s game will be like that of 
the bison of our western plains unless the 
Government heeds the demand for a long 
close season in order to permanently re¬ 
tain its large herds. 
The figures in the reports of shipments 
of caribou carcasses taken from this north¬ 
ern herd show an alarming decrease. Two 
years ago 800 “deer” were killed in a small 
section of the country, where today one 
hundred and fifty or two hundred is the 
total shipment. 
T HE first day’s caribou hunting was 
successful. At daybreak we started 
off and on reaching a little round 
knoll in the center of an open swamp we 
kept constant watch on the surrounding 
country through powerful field glasses. 
The guide removing the skin from a caribou 
