MOOSWA BRINGS HELP TO THE BOY 



MILE after mile Mooswa cut from the head- 

 trail with his easy-swinging rack, the 

 .strong crust of frozen snow giving his great 

 limbs free play. 



The open bed of the river held just such a run 

 as he liked : no tree branches to catch his huge 

 horns, no fallen tree giving cover to a stalking 

 Panther or strange Wolf Pack ; and, as if to 

 make his trip perfect, he was running up a North 

 Wind. He was like a telegraph operator sitting 

 at his clicking instrument with the wires telling 

 him everything. 



&quot; A brother Moose crossed here, just a hun 

 dred yards ahead,&quot; the Wind whispered one time. 

 &quot; Wh-f-f-f- ! it was a Bull, too,&quot; the scent-wind 

 told his delicate nostrils. &quot; Ugh-wh-e-e-e-f-f- ! 

 Sikak has crossed the trial here, and killed the 

 strongest scent left by any other disgusting 

 little brute ! &quot; This message Mooswa took from 

 the wind, and repeated to himself. For a mile 

 his nostrils were simply stricken dumb by the 



