MOOSE HUNTING. 95 



Joe commenced a series of illustrative yarns, showing the 

 dangers of omitting to visit " the Grandmother," and how 

 Indians, who had passed her, had shot themselves in the 

 woods, or had broken their legs between rocks, or had 

 violent pains attack them shortly after passing the rock, 

 and on returning, and making the presents, had imme- 

 diately recovered. 



" It looks as if it were going to be calm to-night, Joe," 

 said I, as we neared the head of the lake ; " which side 

 are we to camp on '? Those long mossy swamps and 

 bog's which run back into the woods on the western 

 side, look likely resorts for moose." 



" No place handy for camp on that side," said Joe ; 

 "grand place for moose, though — guess if no luck to- 

 morrow mornin', we cross there. I got notion of trying 

 this side first." And so, having beached the canoe, 

 turned her over, and drawn her into the bushes secure 

 from observation, we made up our bundles, apportioning 

 the loads, and followed Joe into the forest, now darkened 

 by the rapidly closing shades of evening. In a very 

 short time the dripping branches, discharging their heavy 

 showers upon us as we brushed against them, and the 

 saturated moss and rank fern, made us most uncomfort- 

 ably wet ; and as the difficulties of travelling increased as 

 the daylight receded, and the tight wet moccasin is not 

 much guard to the foot coming in painful contact with 

 an unseen stump or rock, we were not sorry when the 

 weary tramp up the long wooded slope from the lake 

 was ended, and a faint light through the trees in the 

 front showed that we had arrived at the edge of the 

 barrens. '' It's no use trying to make call to-night, that 

 sartin," said Joe ; " couldn't see moose if he came. Oh, 



