COW-MOOSE AND HER, PROGENY. 



a pipe. No wonder the weed is popular. It is a 

 better companion than a quarrelsome member of our 

 own race, for it soothes the wearied traveller, while 

 such a companion irritates him. 



I had just rested long enough to feel so stiff 

 that I was rather disinclined to leave my seat, when 

 a sound which I well knew told me that game, fit 

 food for any mortal, was close at hand. It was a 

 cow moose talking to her progeny, in a voice soft, 

 low, and melodious, full of solicitude and affection. 



Stiffened with the damp and cold, I made slow 

 and awkward efforts to rise, getting on my feet with 

 some difficulty. Utter silence and the greatest 

 stealth were necessary to give me the slightest 

 promise of success, for there is not an animal 

 that roams the forest gifted with greater powers of 

 scent and hearing, or which more unremittingly 

 exercises these qualities. Listening, again, the 

 fretful warning voice once more reached my ear, 

 certainly not more than a hundred yards off. I 

 crept from brush to stone, from stone to brush, 

 having the wind all right, and came at last so near 

 that I could hear the rustling of their movements, 

 still I saw nothing, though once more I heard the 

 baby whispering, so near, that I was surprised I 

 could not see the game. On hands and knees, 

 dragging my stomach on the ground, I attempted 

 to stalk a little further. My sight and hearing were 

 both strained to the greatest tension, and directed 

 to that spot where I believed my quarry lay. Inch 



