Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-01-02
When the frost is on the barrens,
And the popple leaves are thinned,
And the caribou are drifting
Down the wind

A1OW, what does he mean by that?" de-
IN manded Neville Baker dropping the book
heap of fern and spruce twigs beside
the tent door, Seems to have got the leaves
and the caribou mixed up a bit, doesn't he,
sad G Umoe o. ADAM he ede after
Eliminating pause, while wrath of thin smoke
from his pipe circled away softly the still
evening air Il reckon he's about right Mr..
Baker 'Drifting's jest about the word for the
way I've a herd O. caribou go asliding
down afore the wind, biting mouthful here an
there they co. but jest Indifferent to
where they 60 that the little shove of the winds
all it takes to decide EN-
Uncle Adams slow voice stopped. The
pose of his large loose jonted frame of his long,
mmobie, tranquil face, seemed to become
part of the repose of the wilderness sunset
Neville Baker made no reply. but waited
expectantly. In the course of his many visits to
the many watered wilderness of the interior of
New Brunswick, he had acquired something of
t the na am ad 01 e
the moment in regard to caribou, he would be
more likely to say it without prompting. That
capacious and sagacous head of the old guide
very treasure house of woodcraft; but
at the same time, not one that could be drawn
upon at will
" But you mustn't away with the idee, = con-
tinued Uncle Adam some five minutes later, as if
there had been break in his discourse, that carl
bou's always careless an easy going like that. When
they take notion into their heads, it's different
They go where they We mind to, and it takes some
thing extraordinary to stop en- You never know
where or when to find EN-. And when you do find
'em, you never know when or why they're going to
quit, nor where they'll bring up after they've got
started
1T seems to me" said Neville Baker thoughtfuy,
knocking the ashes out of his pipe and hesitatng
to whether not he should fill it again-"t seems
to me know less about caribou than do about any
other of wild folk. I've been coming to these New
Brunswick woods good many years and l fatter
myself I've picked up something; but l know pre-
cious little more of caribou than when l first came
except that they're bad to find and mighty good
to eat
A slow, contemplative smile went over Uncle
Adams face. You re not the only one" said he.
And let me tell you, when you hear some chap be-
gin to brag as if he knew all about caribou-well,
you jest smile. They re unexpected! What learn
about EN- one year. most generally have to un-
learn the next.
Well, - said Baker Il know they grow a mighty
handsome set of horns once in awhile. And that's
what | want you to help get this trip, Adam. l
haven't good caribou head in my lot
cerned, said the guide, but with moose now it,
different, sometimes. If you'll jest take the trouble
to yer head leete to the left an yer eyes
out the lake to the point yonder I'll promise
you purity picture of a bull moose as We re ever
going to anywheres off the of a gun cata-
logue"
NEVILLE BAKER was sprawling on his blankets.
- He turned on his elbow and looked The lonely
lake smooth as mirror between its flat, desolate
Shores spread pink amber and gold toward the
cloudess pink and orange sky where the sun had
just sunk below the horizon All the way up the
lake on one side, the shore was unbroken stretch
serrled ranks of far forest advanced almost to the
waters edge their tops like embattled spear points
against the colored sky From this shore spit of
sand Jutted straig ht out into the lake.
On its extremity, his magnificent bulk and lofty
head black against the pellucid orange glow stood
aglant bull moose motionless if modelled in bronze
His huge muzze was thrust straight out before him,
as if he was about to challenge. His wide
palmated anters were laid back over his shoulders
By Jove!' muttered Baker. And a faint puff of
aromatic woodsmoke from the diving campfire,
his M Sfr1Ico f1ofsr G~,nI