CHAPTER VI 



HIS FIRST WINTER 



" Whose hand is that the forest bear doth Hck ?" 



Henry VI. 

 " No temple but the wood, 

 No assembly but the horned beasts." 



As You Like It. 



How he got down from the tragic heights Moosewa 

 hardly knew. The sloping grass-land somehow 

 melted mysteriously away as he rushed over it pell- 

 mell, and slid into a gorge sleeked with coarse 

 snow, and down again through a maze of wide 

 glens through which the resin-tang of the pine- 

 needles swept with messages fi'om the forest. 

 Skulking between a dense alder and spruce out- 

 crop the young moose gained a sanctuary of bracken 

 beneath a mighty hemlock. 



That night the horned beasts roared on every 

 side for hours, mingling their coughing grunts with 

 the ravings of the tempest. The youngling, lying 

 up soft and warm in his snug bed, as the wind 



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