96 THE MOOSE 



quarters before ; its shimmering opalescence re- 

 minded him of the Aurora's glow. He was afraid 

 of it as it lay, broad and sinister, in the enfolding 

 mists. In those icy hummocks lived the spirit 

 Nunataks. He was very much afraid indeed. 



He stood, a lonely bulk in the desolate land- 

 scape, looking up at the panorama outspread before 

 him, his soft coat changed now to a coarser cover- 

 ing, and little, soft, cushioned spikes showing above 

 the thick hair either side of his forehead. Hardly 

 noticeable spikes as yet — just a hint of the antlers 

 to be. 



The glacier, a small one, descended to valley 

 level, to the yearling's own country, an iridescent 

 way, gleaming prismatically. For a few yards 

 down its length the edges dripped water, and 

 towards its centre the snowy stream was softened 

 by the action of accumulated moisture beneath. 

 Lifting his neck to the overhanging pinnacles and 

 fairy palaces, lit by a hundred pharos-fires, the 

 moose licked the melting mass gratefully. 



As the mists tiptoed up the slopes, the hillsides 

 showed themselves dotted over with bands of white 

 sheep, horned creatures entirely new to Moosewa. 

 Always residing far above the timber-line, how 



