"Caribou" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... lived and reigned here before our forefathers first trode the continent. The quietude and hazy light of Indian summer floated through the aisles and arches of the solemn forest city as we first saw it—a leaf falling lazily now and then across the slanting beams of the setting sun—a startled caribou, on the discovery of our approach, hurrying from his favourite haunt with lofty strides. All else in the picture before us was silent and motionless. Our winter's home! Those lofty coverts to be levelled to a bare, stump-marked plane! The old vikings of the primeval forests, to be ...
— Captain Mugford - Our Salt and Fresh Water Tutors • W.H.G. Kingston
... down to cases. I'm a bit of a mining man. I've mined at Cassiar and Caribou, and I know something of the business. Now I've got next to a good thing.—I don't know how good yet, but I'll swear to you it's a tidy bit. There may be only ten thousand in it, and there may be one hundred ...
— The Trail of '98 - A Northland Romance • Robert W. Service
... The snow fell; the river and the bay froze. Strange men from the North glided silently to the Factor's door, bearing the meat and pelts of the seal. Bitter iron cold shackled the northland, the abode of desolation. Armies of caribou drifted by, ghostly under the aurora, moose, lordly and scornful, stalked majestically along the shore; wolves howled invisible, or trotted dog-like in organized packs along the river banks. Day and night the ice artillery thundered. Night and day the fireplaces roared defiance to a frost they ...
— Conjuror's House - A Romance of the Free Forest • Stewart Edward White
... the moose and the caribou, all of which I had killed, and of our fishing on the long river of the north with a lure made of the feathers of a woodpecker, and of covering the bottom of our canoe with beautiful speckled fish. All this warmed the heart of ...
— In the Days of Poor Richard • Irving Bacheller
... bitter, Relentless slogan of the winds of woe. The city was forgot, and, parka-skirted, We trod that leagueless land that once we knew; We saw stream past, down valleys glacier-girted, The wolf-worn legions of the caribou. We smoked our pipes, o'er scenes of triumph dwelling; Of deeds of daring, dire defeats, we talked; And other tales that lost not in the telling, Ere to our beds ...
— Ballads of a Cheechako • Robert W. Service
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