28 SPORT INDEED 



plenty of excitement, and, if successful, a magnificent 

 antlered head as a trophy of his prowess. 



One night my guide and I set out to paddle up the 

 inlet of a little lake we were encamped upon, with the 

 intention of calling if it should be still enough to do 

 so. There was some wind on the lake, but we thought 

 there might be little or none in the forest-sheltered 

 inlet. I was tucked down in the front of the canoe 

 with blankets to keep my legs warm (for the night 

 was cold), with heavy woolen socks drawn over my 

 boots and a woolen cap down over my ears. We 

 paddled about a mile and found the wind worse than 

 it was on the lake below, and strong enough to make 

 it hard canoeing. In a big bog on the right-hand side 

 we heard a branch brake. We stopped and listened. A 

 deer, we thought, as another and another branch 

 broke. Then came the sound of heavy footfalls and 

 we knew a moose was " coming to the water." We 

 listened intently — so intently that I could hear the 

 ticking of my watch, though it was buried under a 

 sweater, a coat and an overcoat ; nay, more, I heard 

 — perhaps it may have been fancy — the stretching of 

 my elastic suspenders as I breathed. Soon we dis- 

 tinguished through the dark of the moonless night a 

 great object, big as a hippopotamus, move down the 

 bank and step into the water. The guide pushed up 

 the canoe deftly and silently, but the wind was at its 

 worst at this time and blew the canoe diagonally 



