168 MOOSWA 



hour Fran9ois caught sight of the magnificent 

 antlers. Once, exasperated by the tantalizing 

 view of the giant Bull, he took a long-range 

 chance-shot. That was the report Black King 

 had heard. 



When Fran9ois came to the spot in which 

 Mooswa had been standing, he examined the 

 snow there was no blood. &quot;By Goss ! &quot; he 

 muttered, &quot; I t ink some one put bad Medicine 

 on me. P raps dat Moose, he Debil Moose.&quot; 



Hour after hour the hunter followed the Bull s 

 trail ; hour after hour Mooswa trotted, and walked, 

 and rested, and doubled, and circled, just as it 

 suited the game he was playing. Fran9ois, like 

 all Indians or Breeds, had no love for a long shot 

 ammunition was too precious to be wasted. 

 He could wear the Moose down in two days, 

 surely ; then at twenty or thirty yards his gun 

 would do the rest. 



In the afternoon he tightened the loin-belt one 

 hole his stomach was getting empty ; but that 

 did not matter he could travel better. If the 

 fast lasted for three days it was of no moment; 

 for when the Moose was slain and brought to the 

 Shack by dog-train, the pot would boil night and 

 day, and he would feast as long as he had fasted. 

 The thought of the fat, butter-like nose of this 

 misshapen Animal brought moisture to the 



