226 A SPORTSMAN'S EDEN. 



The moose, if I have missed him, won't stop again 

 between this and the Arctic Circle after such 

 a fusilade. But I recanted my thoughts as they 

 passed through my brain, for there, like great 

 statues of stones in the middle of the snowy 

 path, with heads turned to see what we were 

 who followed them, stood three bull moose, the 

 pine-boughs and snow-wreaths over them, and 

 the dim depths of the forest beyond. The one 

 next me was the big bull of the gang, and my 

 heart longed for the grand antlers which looked 

 so gigantic against the white background. ' Take 

 the front one, he isn't wounded, and you will get 

 the three/ whispered the murderous Jocko. 

 Taking no notice of him, I fired at my bull. The 

 hammer fell with a click, but no report followed. 

 Miss fire ! Again and this time my bull drops 

 dead in his tracks. As yet I have not moved, 

 and the other two, bewildered, stand and gaze 

 back over their great quarters at us. ' Fire 

 again, fire again !' Jocko almost shrieks in my ear. 

 ' See you damned first, Jocko,' I reply in very 

 good English, and dropping my rifle, I throw up 

 my hands with a yell, and have the pleasure of 

 seeing the two great beasts crash through the 

 forest with bounds which, though clumsy, cover 

 a great deal of ground, and soon take them out 

 of sight. 



