THE ANTLERS OF THE CARIBOU 87 



of course, be the expected bull, his lofty, 

 antlered head thrusting out over the dark 

 screen of the bushes, while his burning eyes 

 stared about in search of the mate to whose 

 longing call he had hastened. In that case 

 he might perhaps feel vaguely that he had 

 been deceived, and fall back soundlessly into 

 the darkness ; or, taking it into his head that 

 another bull had forestalled him, he might 

 burst out into the open, shaking his antlers, 

 thrashing the bushes, and roaring savage 

 challenge. But, on the other hand, it might 

 not be a bull at all that would come to the 

 lying summons. It might be an ungainly 

 moose-cow, mad with jealousy and frantically 

 resolved to trample her rival beneath her knife- 

 edged hoofs. Or it might be something dan- 

 gerously different. It might be a bear, a 

 powerful old male, who had learned to spring 

 upon a cow-moose and break her neck with 

 one stroke of his armed paw. In such a con- 

 tingency there was apt to be excitement ; 

 for when a bear undertakes to stalk a cow- 

 moose, he gives no notice of his intentions. 

 The first warning, then, of his approach, would 

 be his final savage rush upon the utterer of 

 the lying call. For such a contingency the 

 hunter held his rifle always ready. 



But, on the other hand, there might well 



