122 THE MOOSE 



Aleuts and the Indians know. To them the voices 

 crying in the wilderness are those of slain heroes, 

 who, sweeping across the sky to join in the " Dance 

 of Death," which is their name for the Aurora 

 Borealis, are met by contending evil spirits blocking 

 the heavenly way. 



As the snow came down heavier and heavier each 

 day, restricting his food-supply, the young moose 

 began to think of winter quarters. 



Finding that a moose family, consisting of a 

 grand ten-year-old bull, whose fine antlers were 

 curiously malformed across the palmations, having 

 a fence-hke row of points sticking up, a five-year- 

 old bull, and a very small specimen of what a 

 moose at three years of age ought not to be, two 

 cows, and two calves, appeared to welcome any 

 stray companion they could gather in, Moosewa 

 tacked on to the little company, following its leader 

 gladly, because he saw that the old beast knew the 

 best plans for setting winter conditions at naught, 

 and also that safety lies in numbers sometimes. 



Though not naturally gregarious, moose fre- 

 quently yard up together for winter, selecting care- 

 fully the range of country over which they mean to 

 roam. One after the other the heavy beasts browse 



