138 THE WILDERNESS OF THE UPPER YUKON 



we saw a large bull suddenly appear, looming out of the 

 darkness like a giant spectre, not more than seventy-five 

 feet away, his antlers looking big, broad, and very white 

 against the dark background. With rifle pointed, I rose 

 and could just see the ivory sight which was held in a 

 line with the centre of the bull's chest when I pulled the 

 trigger. Click! A miss-fire, and almost simultaneously 

 Selous' smothered expression of disappointment! The 

 bull had stopped as I rose, and when the trigger fell, he 

 jumped to one side and disappeared in the brush. I 

 sent three shots after him, but could only guess the direc- 

 tion as he was not in sight. After the first jump there was 

 a crashing in the willows and then not another sound 

 was heard. The grunting ceased; he had glided off 

 more mysteriously and silently than he had come. Thus 

 was lost my only opportunity to get a bull moose, and 

 one with horns which seemed larger, perhaps, than they 

 really were, though they still grow in the memory-image 

 of that short glimpse. Later, I learned that the caps in 

 some of my cartridges, then four years old, had deterio- 

 rated and were apt, especially in cold weather, to miss 

 fire. 



The night was clear and fairly cold, the thermometer 

 registering twenty-three degrees above zero, and we soon 

 went to sleep. I was suddenly aroused by a trembling 

 hand on my shoulder as Coghlan whispered that a moose 

 had crossed the river and was heading directly toward the 

 camp. Taking my rifle, with nothing on but under- 

 clothes, I quickly followed Louis through the woods as 

 Selous had done on the night of September 3d. We 



