112 THE MOOSE 



thrashed the trees with weighty antlers — sure sign 

 a bull moose is angry. The old animal stood as 

 though carved in bronze, his head still carried at 

 the charge, squaring his shoulders. 



With a sudden rush and almost a leap they were 

 wrestling again, crouching curiously in order to 

 obtain the rigid leverage of well-spread legs. 



Moosewa, who watched the proceedings care- 

 fully, lest he should miss any valuable battle hint 

 likely to be of use in the great hereafter, saw how 

 systematically the old moose husbanded his strength, 

 and how his every effort turned on a series of feints 

 to disentangle instantaneously the locked horns 

 which had a dangerous habit of rattling apart un- 

 expectedly and exposing an unprotected flank. 

 One such chance laid open to attack his whole side, 

 and like lightning the agile opponent saw his 

 advantage and smote his enemy a blow which 

 brought him to his knees. 



Because the hidden cow, artful like all feminine 

 things in that she knew the value of the unknown 

 and unrealized, was moving fast, the fight was a 

 running one, and thereby lost much of its effect. 

 Now and again the combatants would forget all 

 about the charmer, and remember only their quarrel 



