XVIII. 



ONE MOOSE IN PARTICULAR 



HOSE early October 

 days at Camp Moose 

 were cold but delight- 

 ful. We were truly in 

 the very heart of moose 

 country. Tracks were 

 everywhere and we had even heard 

 two cows calling at different times in 

 a little bay not half a mile from 

 camp. Just at dusk the first call 

 came thrilling through the air. It 

 seemed as though some magic power 

 had lifted the veil that shuts out 

 man from the four-foots, and, thus 

 revealed, the strange beauty of it 

 held me breathless. 



