IN A LOG HUT. 63 



frequently the fiendish love of carnage alone seems to 

 occupy the mind of the pursuer. I have known instances 

 I grieve to say many when moose have been killed 

 simply for the sake of killing ; for with the exception of 

 one or two titbits, the giant carcase has been left to satiate 

 the appetite of the wild beasts of the forest. If one who 

 has been guilty of such unjustifiable conduct should read 

 this, let his conscience reproach him for the past, and 

 the sting of remorse cause him to resolve never to be again 

 an offender. 



The exact position of the scene which I am about to 

 describe lies within the limits of the State of Maine, about 

 sixty miles north-east of Moosehead Lake. 



The days that had heralded the advent of March had 

 been extremely warm, the nights clear, with sharp frost;: 

 just such weather as would be pronounced first-class for 

 the collecting of sap to make maple sugar Two days' 

 journey had been required to bring us to the desired 

 locality, for we had both agreed that no search for moose 

 should be made till a favourite neighbourhood was reached, 

 alike beautiful in summer or winter. Moreover, here w& 

 should find a log hut, erected two seasons previously, and 

 which we had every reason to believe would be in a 

 thorough state of repair. In due course of time we arrived 

 at our rendezvous; the snow was cleared out of the 

 structure, and, considering all things, the two Penobscot 

 Indians who accompanied us succeeded in making our 

 temporary residence more than inviting. The first night 

 passed in the usual manner ; we each pledged the other's 

 health more than once, and again and again requited our 



