THE LONE TRAIL 209 



Unknown. Just as the bull was persuading the 

 calf to stay where he was by freezingly ignoring 

 his attentions, the cow returned from pasture. 



She came rushing, crying a little, half in comfort, 

 half in longing, and caught a glimpse of a big 

 moose streaking off through the green. A goodly 

 beast, she recognized that. Her son would be just 

 such another 1 



And somewhere about this time was fought the 

 battle of the lynxes, such a fight as was never seen, 

 the sort of fight that marks an era. Other lynx 

 quarrels there had been, of course, fierce contests 

 that blazed up and ended in a minute or two, but 

 this, this to the death affray, kept the wilderness 

 agog for a week. 



There was little to choose between the com- 

 batants. The lynx, who lived in the high bluff 

 above the river, sharing it with the swallows, had 

 perhaps a slight advantage over his enemy, whose 

 home was in the roots of the dead hemlock across 

 the lagoon ; but the long, exhausting swim equalized 

 that, for it was the larger cat who sought the other. 



A small object could be discerned crossing the 

 dividing breadth of water unwaveringly, now lost 

 in the midst of gaily-painted paddling ducks, who 



27 



