MOOSE-HUNTING IN CANADA 129 



and beasts shake off slumber and set about their 

 daily tasks. 



Still, the sunset is inexpressibly lovely, and I 

 do not envy the condition and frame of mind of a 

 man who cannot be as nearly happy as man can be, 

 when he is lying comfortably on a luxurious and 

 soft couch, gazing in perfect peace on the glorious 

 scene around him, rejoicing all his senses, and 

 saturating himself with the wonderful beauties of 

 a northern sunset. 



So I sat quietly below, while the Indian called 

 from the tree- top. Not a sound answered to the 

 three or four long-drawn-out notes with which he 

 hoped to lure the bull ; after a long interval he called 

 again, but the same perfect, utter silence reigned 

 in the woods, a silence broken only by the melan- 

 choly hooting of an owl, or the imaginary noises 

 that filled my head. It is extraordinary how small 

 noises become magnified when the ear is kept at a 

 great tension for any length of time, and how 

 the head becomes filled with all kinds of fictitious 

 sounds ; and it is very remarkable also how utterly 

 impossible it is to distinguish between a loud noise 

 uttered at a distance and a scarcely audible sound 

 close by. After listening very intently amidst the 

 profound silence of a quiet night in the forest for 



