Megaleep in a storm is a most curious creature, the nearest thing to a
ghost to be found in the woods. More than other animals he feels the
falling barometer. His movements at such times drive you to
desperation, if you are following him; for he wanders unceasingly.
When the storm breaks he has a way of appearing suddenly, as if he
were seeking you, when by his trail you thought him miles ahead. And
the way he disappears--just melts into the thick driving flakes and
the shrouded trees--is most uncanny. Six or seven caribou once played
hide-and-seek with me that way, giving me vague glimpses here and
there, drawing near to get my scent, yet keeping me looking up wind
into the driving snow where I could see nothing distinctly. And all
the while they drifted about like so many huge flakes of the storm,
watching my every movement, seeing me perfectly.
At such times they fear little, and even lay aside their usual
caution. I remember trailing a large herd one day from early morning,
keeping near them all the time, and jumping them half a dozen times,
yet never getting a glimpse because of their extreme watchfulness.
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