With a Tenderfoot 



191 



water's edge. Everything was deathly still, 

 with not even the sound of a bird ; the only life 

 visible being the fish darting off out of the 

 way of the canoes. We trolled up the lake 

 for two miles, but did not get a bite. Tender- 

 foot was a little ahead in one canoe and the 

 nimrod pulled his line in the other. We did 

 not have the right kind of troll for trout. 

 Louis fixed camp about two thirds of the way 

 up the lake, and we had supper. After the 

 meal the guide made a fresh horn out of the 

 birch bark and started to call. It was not 

 long before he got an answer from across the 

 lake. Instructions were immediately given 

 to put out the fire, and while waiting in the 

 dark we could hear the bull moose on the 

 other side. Here Tenderfoot whispered: 

 " For any sake, let that thing [the horn] alone, 

 and don't call it here." The nimrod sug- 

 gested going over and Tenderfoot said: 

 " Yes, you two go. Louis and I will stay 

 here." Frank and the nimrod started for the 

 canoe, pushed out, and away we went towards 

 the other shore, calling and calling, with no 

 further response. 



