DARK SWAMPS AND DEEP RIVERS. 233' 



"Moose!" he exclaimed; "they are moose, sure. 

 They are nearly out of sight behind that point of 

 brush, but they are moose, sure." 



Brown crawled down from the wagon, and despite 

 all warnings from Dyche began to make preparations 

 for a hunt. He caught up his Marlin and Dyche 

 his Winchester, and off they went, Brown hobbling 

 along on his lame foot while Dyche tried in vain to 

 induce him to go back to camp. 



" Get back. You'll ruin that foot," said Dyche. 



"Guess I can stand it," was the only answer. 



" You'll catch cold in it in the water." 



"Guess I can stand it." 



The animals had moved south into a bunch of 

 willows which extended into the swamp. The wind 

 was in the northwest and the hunters made a cir- 

 cuit to the south, hoping to head off the moose be- 

 fore they got out of the country. Brown, whose 

 foot seemed to give him no trouble, was of the opin- 

 ion that they would not be able to get ahead of the 

 animals unless they stopped to feed in the bunch of 

 willows, for when they once started they usually 

 kept going for many miles. 



Reaching a point three-quarters of a mile to the 

 south of the place where the moose had been seen, the 

 hunters thought it time to look for signs. There were 

 no indications that the game had passed that way. 

 Dyche climbed a tall tree and scanned the country in 

 every direction, but there was no living thing to 

 be seen. A long consultation resulted only in 

 the belief that they knew that there were three moose 

 in the country, and the hunters made their way slowly 



