With a Tenderfoot 203 



etc., until we all retired most anxious to see 

 him. 



Next morning we were up and on our way 

 before daybreak, in search of the quarry. 

 After searching for some time, the guide 

 Frank hallooed, " There he goes " — and what a 

 sight as he ploughed through the underbrush 

 with his massive antlers thrown back on his 

 shoulders! — and forthwith the nimrod began 

 to shoot. 



All at once the moose turned and charged 

 us. Then it was who could get away best — 

 Tenderfoot at breakneck speed well in ad- 

 vance heading the rout. But if you had been 

 present you would have seen three others 

 briskly dodge for trees when the charge was 

 made. (As usual the gun was empty.) The 

 bull stopped shortly, and another shot took 

 effect, when he charged again. 



The nimrod had recovered from the race, 

 and began to shoot with care, when down went 

 the moose in a heap. It required some time 

 to get Tenderfoot encouraged back to the 

 spot; and when he came up and saw the 

 moose, he said: " I thought he was the devil 



