MY FIRST BULL-MOOSE 83 



thought: "There's no mistake this time. Here she 

 is ! " I don't know whether he thought this or not, 

 but certain it is that he plunged into the water and 

 commenced wading down the stream, which at this 

 place followed the land around a point that formed a 

 long, narrow elbow. We first thought he would burst 

 through the fringe of alders on the thinnest part of 

 this elbow, and therefore pushed in our canoe. How- 

 ever, he passed that point, still wading in the water, 

 and we were compelled to back out of this little cove 

 and into the stream. 



The guide now shoved the canoe directly towards 

 him, as swiftly as he could, whispering to me " Be 

 steady now! Don't lose him." Meanwhile I had 

 my rifle to my shoulder, expecting each moment 

 would give me my opportunity to use it. It was now 

 daylight, exactly half-past five ; the bull was coming 

 down the stream and we were going up. My mind 

 was full of what I expected would happen, and I was 

 saying to myself " failure is impossible," when the 

 canoe rounded a sharp point of the elbow, and behold, 

 there stood his majesty ! His head, topped by his 

 grand antlers, was thrown proudly back, while his 

 whole attitude was one of confident expectancy as he 

 marched to meet his pseudo-mistress. He saw me 

 and made a quick movement to the right, bringing 

 his head sideways to me. This was my chance and I 

 fired instantly, aiming at a point an inch or two 



