62 THE MOOSE 



for his tender antlers, the bull advanced in a series 

 of playful jerks, sniffing. Then he sidled back- 

 wards, only to run forward as close to the cow as 

 he dared. It was in one of these careless move- 

 ments that the calf realized that, seen sideways, his 

 hero had a cadaverous appearance, for all his 

 weight. Such horns as his had not been grown on 

 nothing. The strain had been heavy, and it had 

 told. 



The cow rose on hind-legs and struck forward 

 viciously, catching her admirer low on the shoulder, 

 with razor hoof, an intimation not to be misunder- 

 stood. She required no company, would have 

 none. And the big moose, with a gaping slash 

 to remind him of the encounter, turned off down 

 an open path, carrying his beautiful head gingerly. 



The calf was thinking of the fleeting apparition 

 as he lay in a mossy hollow into which the wind 

 had driven the bracken of years, and seemed to see 

 it still, so wild-looking, so grand, so strong. 



A splitting reverberation rang overhead. Again 

 and again it came, waking the forest echoes. 

 Trembling, the three beasts pulled together, stand- 

 ing awhile as the cow thought out the means of 

 escape. Their position was untenable indeed. In 



