CHAPTER IV 

 TRACKS OF BIG GAME 



"But soft ! Methinks I scent the morning air ! Brief let me be." 



HAMLET. 



THE clouds having cleared away, and the horses hav- 

 ing been well fed and rested, we started bright and early 

 on our second day's journey, and once more the weary 

 plodding, climbing, jumping and sliding began. 

 " Uncle Henry " was feeling quite badly on account of 

 our visitors of the night before, and particularly because 

 of the " lady in the case." He had lain down in his wet 

 clothes, thinking to change them when she had departed 

 for her tent ; but she tarried too long for his tired and 

 weary condition. Exhausted nature demanded sleep, 

 and so before she left he was in a profound slumber. 



He got up from his bunk complaining of a swollen 

 and very sore throat, having contracted a bad cold, 

 which remained with him during the whole of our trip. 



Three miles before our camping place was reached 

 we passed close to Salmon Brook Lake, where a 

 large moose had been dodging bullets from many 

 rifles ever since the season opened, on September 

 15th. Henry led me in to view it. We found 

 an abundance of fresh tracks, and among them those 

 of the u big fellow " himself. 



