114 A Hunting Trip 



any game having been seen; but about half 

 way back on our return trip, Tom, standing 

 in the bow of the canoe, on reaching the 

 " pint," as he called it, whispered, " A big 

 bull." Our canoe was pushed ashore noise- 

 lessly, and we landed with Tom in the lead 

 and the hunter with his .30-30 ready for action, 

 bringing up the rear. Stealthily we picked 

 our way through the brush and old trees, Tom 

 whispering by times such advice as, " Be care- 

 ful you don't ' stamp ' on the twigs " ; " make 

 no noise, on your life." In this fashion we 

 crawled and walked for about two hundred 

 yards, our feet at every step going into the 

 soft moss up to our ankles; when in a soft 

 whisper Tom said, " There he is; let him have 

 it; be careful you put it into the right place." 

 Looking over some alder right in front of me 

 I saw the monarch — reminding me of the 

 pachyderm of the prehistoric age — feeding at 

 the edge of the water about one hundred yards 

 away, standing broad-side. Bang! went the 

 gun, and you could hear the dull thud of the 

 leaden missile striking his side. He threw up 

 his magnificent head, and started directly 



