Wifhout 



a Gun 



was nearer to me now, and the mother by a 

 silent command brought him back and put 

 him on the side away from me; but the little 

 fellow's curiosity was aroused by the prohibi- 

 tion, and he kept peeking under his mother's 

 belly, or twisting his head around over her 

 hocks, to see who I was and what I was 

 doing. But there was no fear manifest, and 

 I backed away slowly at last and left them 

 feeding just where I had found them. 



In curious contrast was the next meeting. 

 It was on the little beaver stream below Hay 

 Lake, a spot as wild as any dream of Dore, 

 and a famous feeding-ground for moose and 

 deer. I was fishing for trout when a mother 

 moose came up-stream among the bilberry 

 and alder bushes. I had stopped casting and 

 sat low in my canoe, and she did not see me 

 until abreast of me, within twenty feet. Then 

 she swung her huge head carelessly in my 

 direction, and went on as if I were of no 

 more account than one of the beaver houses 

 on the shore. Ten steps behind her came a 

 calf. The leaves had scarcely closed on her 

 flanks when he put his head out of the bushes 



