MOOSE HUNTING. 97 



bed ; blankets are unrolled and stretcbed over tbe boughs, 

 and finding, to my joy, that the rain had not reached the 

 change of clothes packed in my bundle, I presently recline 

 at full length under the sheltering camp, in front of a 

 roaring fire, which is rapidly vaporising the moisture 

 contained in my recent garments, suspended from the 

 top of the camp in front. Joe is still abroad, providing 

 a further stock of firewood for the night, whilst his son 

 is squatting over the fire with a well-filled frying-pan, 

 and its hissing sounds drown the pattering of the rain- 

 drops. 



After our comfortable meal followed the fragrant weed, 

 of course, and a discussion as to what we should do on 

 the morrow. The barrens we had come to were of great 

 extent, and of a very bad nature for travelling, the ground 

 being most intricately strewed with the dead trees of the 

 forest which once covered it, and the briars and bushes 

 overgrowing and concealing their sharp broken limbs and 

 rough granite rocks, often cause a severe bruise or fall to 

 the hunter. It was, as Joe said, a *' grand place" for 

 calling the moose, as in some spots the country could be 

 scanned for miles around, whilst the numerous small 

 bushes and rock boulders would afford a ready conceal- 

 ment from the quick sight of this animal. However, 

 time would show. If calling could not be attempted next 

 morning, it would most likely be suitable for creeping ; 

 so, hoping for a calm morning and a clear sky, or, at all 

 events, for a cessation of the rain, we stretched ourselves 

 for repose ; and the pattering drops, the crackings and 

 snappings of the logs on the fire, and the hootings of the 

 owls in the distant forest, became less and less Keeded or 

 heard, tiU sleep translated us to the land of dreams. 



