IN THE SWAMPS. 237 



continual wading placed Dyche's knees in a condition 

 which strongly reminded him of goat-hunting in 

 the Cascades. Higher and higher rose the water, and 

 the horses were in danger of losing their hoofs from 

 standing in so much moisture. A quaking-asp 

 grove on a sand ridge was discovered about a mile 

 from the platform camp, and it was decided to move 

 to this. Three days later the hunters were ensconced 

 in a new camp. Water or no water, they were de- 

 termined to stay until they secured a moose, even if 

 it took them until Christmas to do it. With a ton 

 of good hay cut for the horses, there was nothing 

 to prevent an enjoyable hunt in the water. 



Cold nights with heavy frosts had changed the as- 

 pect of the whole country. The shivering aspens had 

 dropped their leaves, while the tamaracks were chang- 

 ing to a golden brown and covering the earth with 

 their needles. Vast armies of ducks, geese, and other 

 aquatic fowls covered the swamp in every direction 

 and streamed overhead in countless thousands all 

 day and night, with their constant " honk, honk, " 

 like the bugle-calls of some great army. Many 

 flocks of willow-grouse came about the camp, and 

 their cackling could be heard in all directions in the 

 cold frosty mornings as they sat on the bare trees or 

 the upturned roots of some overthrown giant of the for- 

 est. Thousands of incidents new and strange to the 

 naturalist were of daily occurrence and lent zest 

 to the hunting. 



But the horns of the bull moose were now getting 

 hard, and it was a big bull moose that Brown and 

 Dyche were after. The naturalist wanted a very large 



