Which reminds me of a story:
Many years ago I went on a "self-guided" caribou hunt in Quebec, one where the outfitting company provides a camp with a "camp manager," who basically keeps the tent stoves running and is there to radio for help in case somebody gets hurt or lost. In this instance the camp manager was a French-Canadian named Pierre Hetu.
But when the float plane landed the first caribou anybody had seen in a week were streaming right past camp, a herd of several thousand. Pierre was an avid hunter and ran around excitedly, urging all of us to grab our rifles and "shoot zee caribou!" So we did.
The only "problem" occurred when Pierre couldn't stand to be left in camp and followed several of us up the big hill behind the tents, a mixture of rocks, tundra and swampy springs. He forgot he was wearing his camp slippers until we were at least a half a mile uphill, whereupon he returned (with very soggy feet) still calling, "Shoot zee caribou!"
Great story John...
