148 IN THE LAND OF THE GREAT SPIRIT 



of white grass high as the knee, over which the wind 

 came rolling like waves upon the sea. Through this 

 on hands and knees we crept very, very warily. 



About every two hours a moose lies down.* He 

 usually begins to move irregularly when he is thinking 

 of resting, and often comes back a little and throws 

 off, as it were, a bit to the side, and there he makes 

 his bed. He likes just such a place as this for his 

 siesta, and at any moment now our moose might be 

 springing to his feet. But no. Straight on went the 

 track, and then, when about seventy yards from the 

 edge of the covert, inch by inch we raised ourselves on 

 our hands and looked. Shall I ever forget it ? Never. 



Immediately opposite us was a small point covered 

 thick with willow scrub. Behind this an impenetrable 

 background of black spruce fir-trees and of golden 

 larch. And there, topping the foremost willow-bush 

 of all, were two gigantic horns. That was the first 

 impression, gigantic. To me it seemed indeed the 

 veritable head of an Irish elk, so long was the beam, 

 so wide apart the extreme ends of the antlers. The 

 moose's head was raised to its full height, and straight 

 at us he looked. I could see his neck, I could see 

 his chest; his body was out of sight, his legs were hid 

 by the willow. It was a great moment. 





-/CjLpx^ . ^-^ 



/ <<^icj''Z3^. 



