By the end of July, after both men and dogs had subsisted for several weeks on a diet devoid of caribou meat, an air of expectancy began to pervade the Windy River camp. The hunters roamed the Barrens or watched from some lookout post such as the Pile o’ Rocks (fig. 27). No Caribou were detected during plane trips to the upper Kazan River and return on July 31 and August 3, though their ancient, well-marked trails were visible along the ridges. It was not until August 6 that the first buck of the return movement was encountered. On the following day another animal was secured. On August 10 and 11 only a few Caribou--not over 25 in a band--were seen by Charles Schweder and Fred Schweder, Jr., from the air between the Windy and the Kazan rivers. It began to be feared that the bulk of the migration might pass somewhere to the westward. On August 13, however, at a distance of some miles from camp, Fred sighted 20 Caribou; all of them were does and fawns except for one buck. On August 17 he secured a good-sized buck (specimen No. 1065; figs. 3, 4) at Bear Slough and saw five other bucks elsewhere. Two days later Anoteelik reported a band of 13. On August 20 Fred reported about 300 Caribou moving in our direction across the Barrens east of Lake Charles; they proved to be the advance guard of a big movement. On the same afternoon I had filmed several bucks going their separate ways on the slopes about Pile o’ Rocks and Stony Man. They were moving along somewhat hurriedly, in a manner very different from the placid grazing of sheep or cattle. One or two does with fawns also appeared in the vicinity. (The passage of a Keewatin Tundra Wolf over the same ground a short time previously had no effect, as far as I observed, on the behavior of the animals at this time.) A grander, though more distant, spectacle gradually unfolded off to the eastward, beyond Little River, where several groups, numbering from 3 to 20 or 25 individuals, were feeding quietly over the open Barrens. Their fresh dark autumn coats showed up much more conspicuously than had the cream-buff of their winter coats in June. Presently the scene became livelier, as the largest band, composed of does and fawns as well as lordly bucks, started to romp northward over the Barrens. One or more of the various kinds of insects that bring life-long misery to the Caribou may have stampeded them. This band swept past a group of half its size without at once involving it. A doe and a fawn remained lying down as the others passed. As the eye swept farther over that lonely land, still other Caribou were disclosed singly or in groups scattered over a couple of square miles. There was no strong herd instinct as they grazed at will. Even when on the march, they straggled along, some as much as 20 to 30 yards apart. As the sun sank lower, and the black flies became less active with the dropping temperature (about 53°), a lull ensued in the movements of the Caribou.