A Canadian Moose Hunt 



Those four ducks played and fed within thirty 

 feet, and a muskrat worked at house-building 

 a few yards away. The silence was intense. 

 There was not a breath of wind. I knew my 

 brother was doing the same thing on a neigh- 

 boring pond, and I fell to thinking whether 

 there was some special Nemesis about this 

 hunt, or it was the fault of the guides. I 

 glanced at the outlet in front of me, about 

 a half mile distant. 



There was a moose, stalking with the utmost 

 deliberation along the edge of the woods and 

 then into the shallow water. 



Chabot was roused by a hasty shake, and a 

 second later the canoe was flying across the 

 lake. As we crossed, I inspected the moose 

 closely. He was walking slowly, nibbling the 

 long reed-like grass that stuck up from the 

 water. His neck seemed very stiff, and he 

 swung his legs from his hips and shoulders. 

 The hump was extremely conspicuous, perhaps 

 because his head was carried low to get at the 

 grass. He was a young bull, nearly full grown, 

 and with small antlers. He looked occasion- 

 ally at the canoe, now fast nearing him ; but 

 we had the advantage of the wind, and the sun 

 was going down behind us. It was just 5 



95 



