262 SPORTING ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST. 



effect of the shock was soon dissipated by streams of 

 perspiration. 



The baying was rapidly waning in the distance, and my 

 companions had all vanished, when I concluded to halt to 

 tighten one of my shoes which had become loose. While 

 engaged in that endeavor I saw a splendid young bull ap- 

 proaching, evidently on his way back to the yard, and the 

 only dog in pursuit was an active, wire-haired terrier that 

 was too busily engaged in snipping at his heels to have 

 time to give tongue. The bull went right through the 

 deep snow at every plunge, and the result was that he was 

 almost pumped, while his legs were bleeding from the 

 wounds inflicted by the crust. The terrier, on seeing me, 

 began to wag its tail, and to bark and gambol around the 

 unwieldy creature that could not resent its annoyance ; 

 but when it placed itself in front, and commenced to growl 

 and show its teeth and snip at him, the maddened moose 

 made several dashes at it with his horns. This pestering 

 prevented him from seeing where he was going ; so he 

 floundered into a large drift nearly deep enough to swal- 

 low him up, and, while he was struggling to extricate him- 

 self from that position, I approached and shot him through 

 the head ; but after I had done it I did not feel very proud 

 of my exploit, as it resembled too closely the shooting of a 

 bound bull. Pie was so deeply mired that, even when dead, 

 he did not fall over, but stuck in his position, an inanimate 

 statue. 



Before I had decided what next to do, one of the party, 

 who had been following his tracks, arrived, and with his 

 aid, and a sturdy bough, we prised him out on the crusted 

 surface. Some of the others were equally successful, and 

 our day's sport — if sport it could be called — netted us 

 eight cows, calves, and young bulls out of probably fifteen 

 or twenty that were in the yard. This is a specimen of 

 nearly all runs in the snow, so one may see how much real 

 hunting there is in it. 



A moose-drive as conducted by the Indians is a verita- 

 ble slaughter, and is about on a par with a pheasant battue, 



