88 NEIGHBOURS UNKNOWN 



be nothing at all no answer, all through the 

 long, cold, moon-silvered night, summon the 

 birch horn never so craftily. 



And this was what the hunter thought had 

 been so far the result of his calling. Had he 

 chanced to look over his shoulder, he might 

 have known better. He might have seen 

 the shadows take substance, condensing into 

 a gigantic and solid bulk just behind the little 

 tree against which he leaned his back. He 

 might have seen the spread of vast and 

 shadowy antlers, the long, sullen head, and 

 drooping muzzle, the little eyes, in which, as 

 they detected him in his ambush, a sudden 

 flame of rage was quenched by the timely 

 wisdom of fear. But the giant shape dis- 

 solved back into shadow, and the hunter never 

 knew that he himself had been stalked and 

 considered. 



After a long silence, the birch-bark horn 

 again sent forth its appeal. Loud and long 

 it called ; then it murmured a series of caress- 

 ingly desirous notes, impatient and impor- 

 tunate. When it stopped, from the thick 

 dark just below the sandspit came a light 

 snapping of twigs and brushing of branches, 

 which seemed to be moving toward the open 

 point. The hunter was puzzled ; for a 

 moose-bull, coming in answer to the call, 



