84 THE MOOSE 



Turning skilled eyes on the wilting, hunched 

 deer, the youth smiled, a trifle wryly. 



" He's lawngen 1" he answered simply, in the 

 vernacular of his far, far distant island set in the 

 western sea — " lawngen for home !" 



And Sadie, little more than a girl, who had 

 followed her man to this back of beyond, recking 

 nothing then of the abyssmal loneliness, looked 

 into the sad, sunken eyes of the yearling as though 

 she would read the secrets of his heart. 



" Are you really longing, Moosewa ?" she would 

 ask him. " I wish I knew." 



Then, one day, as she saw him straining his head 

 to watch the flickering of a squirrel on a fallen log, 

 she understood 1 



Saying nothing, she passed thoughtfully into the 

 shack, closing the door behind her. 



When she was safely out of the way, for the 

 only two windows in the primitive abode faced the 

 " street," and not into the corral, the red-haired 

 man took the opportunity of branding Moosewa, 

 for no special reason, save a degenerate love of the 

 smell of burning flesh, and the insensate feeling of 

 omnipotence the realization of his power gave him. 

 *' Power is sweet, and when you are a little clerk 



