STEPPING-STONES 89 



side easily, only to be gripped by something that 

 looked like scrub-tangle overhanging the stream, 

 and wasn't scrub-tangle at all really, but a band of 

 sprites lying in wait. Thrusting the poor cow 

 under, they drowned her remorselessly. 



If the story saddened the calf a trifle, he was not 

 too much affected to press for more. He heard the 

 reason why the moose of the Kenai district carry 

 the finest heads in the world, and why the young 

 bull moose wears a bell. 



" Once upon a time," the tale naturally com- 

 menced, or how could the little one care to listen ? 

 " Once upon a time " a bull moose lived in the 

 Canadian backwoods, a fine upstanding beast, but 

 lacking, like all his tribe, the fine hairy dewlap 

 which now adds so much to their appearance. 



The stock from a large cattle ranche roamed the 

 forest, too, led by a domestic cow, wise as she was 

 ancient. Red and white steers, black and white 

 heifers, all red, all black, all white, followed her, for 

 she could lead them to the best feeding-grounds, 

 guide them to the wild onion patches, and find the 

 way over the most spreading of marshes. 



Round her neck, on a strong leather strap, she 

 wore a heavy and never silent bell. 



