TWO DIANAS IN ALASKA 293 



One exquisite evening, when the moon was nearly 

 full, Cecily and I wandered along the shores of the 

 near by lagoon, a tiny lake, formed by the river over- 

 flowing to lower ground. Standing in the lush green 

 grasses on the verge of the shimmering pool, up to 

 her knees in water, a cow moose faced up, not more 

 than forty paces off. The silver moonlight flashed 

 on her huge ears, limning in clear-cut strokes her 

 square wet nose, silhouetting cameo-like the stalwart 

 figure. Two calves breathed on the water in inquir- 

 ing sniffs, as though to discover what this wealth of 

 liquid was composed of. One calf was much younger 

 than the other, and would be, of course, an adopted 

 child. A real mother, that moose evidently. A "let 

 them all come " type of matron as rare, I expect, in 

 Alaska as in Albion. 



With a start the ungainly cow winded us I think 

 a cow moose is the plainest of any of the deer tribe, 

 if a creature of the wild, with its mysterious charm of 

 environment, and manifold allurements, can be called 

 downright plain and the water splashed to her 

 shoulders as she made a bid for safety, gaining the 

 bank in excited rush. The surprised calves tumbled 

 after her in flurried desire to follow on the trail. Into 

 the sombre blue-black forest glided the hurrying 

 forms, disappearing, like grey wraiths, into the heart 

 of the silence. 



When the horns are growing the strain on the con- 

 stitution of a moose is great, and often when seen 

 carrying a head in the velvet a really fine animal 

 looks lean and cadaverous of appearance. Once the 



