From a higher view-point the 4 proved part of a band of 120.
Then other bands came in view, 16, 61, 3, 200, and so on; each valley
had a scattering few, all travelling slowly southward or standing
to enjoy the cool breeze that ended the torment of the flies. About
1,000 were in sight. These were my first Caribou, the first fruits
of 3,000 miles of travel.
Weeso got greatly excited; these were the forerunners of the vast
herd. He said, "Plenty Caribou now," and grinned like a happy child.
I went in one direction, taking only my camera. At least 20 Caribou
trotted within 50 feet of me.
Billy and Weeso took their rifles intent on venison, but the Caribou
avoided them and 6 or 8 shots were heard before they got a young
buck.
All that day I revelled in Caribou, no enormous herds but always
a few in sight.
The next day Weeso and I went to the top ridge eastward. He with
rifle, I with camera. He has a vague idea of the camera's use, but
told Billy privately that "the rifle was much better for Caribou."
He could not understand why I should restrain him from blazing away
as long as the ammunition held out.
