88 THE MOOSE 



The thud and echo of his frenzied passing, the 

 breaking of the bushes, came back to the girl as she 

 stood alone. 



Then all was silence. 



His little-used hoofs had no feeling, and clacked 

 uncontrollably at every step ; his eyes, unaccus- 

 tomed to the dim half-lights of the forest, failed 

 him often ; the sound of rushing rivers beat loud in 

 his ears ; the trembling of his limbs from cramp 

 and long fasting held him back when he fain would 

 go forward ; the dull burn of his brand never 

 ceased. Yet he was free I 



Gone the corral, whose barring limitations broke 

 his spirit ; gone the weary, never-ending days of 

 pacing to and fro ; and the long, long stab of pain 

 as the birds called him to the wild. 



He was free 1 



Was not that knowledge sufficient to urge him 

 forward without wasting sympathy or thought for 

 the darts and prickings in his outstretched aching 

 bones ? He who had been fettered knew, as every 

 wild bird and wanderer knows, that the one thing 

 worth anything is freedom. 



The two-legged ones should never take him 

 alive again I 



