TRACKS OF BIG GAME 37 



Something which looked like a log in the distance 

 suddenly showed signs of life. It was his majesty 

 feeding on the succulent grass which grows in the bot- 

 tom of the lake, and of which the moose is very fond. 

 He raised his head and at once looked around in our 

 direction. Though he was much over a half mile away, 

 still, as the wind from us was blowing directly upon 

 him, he got our scent. His mane went up and he 

 started off, heading for the nearest point of land ; he 

 was not long in crashing through the undergrowth on 

 the bank to where he was safe from inquisitive hunters. 



The first incident on this second morning of our trip 

 was the inspection of a dam where, in the early part of 

 the season, one of Henry's " sports " had lain down on 

 the slanting abutment of the breast and fallen asleep. 

 He was awakened by the breaking of a limb, and there, 

 right before him, was his quarry, coming head-on. His 

 rifle did its work, and the " sport " was thus spared many 

 a weary mile of tramping because his game obligingly 

 came to him. 



Next we reached Hurd Lake, along whose western 

 shore our route lay. I, being in the advance, spied a very 

 large cow moose feeding in the water. Dismounting I 

 waited until Henry arrived. He made a couple of calls 

 with his birch-bark horn, to see if she had a bull with 

 her, saying that if she had, he would certainly make 

 his presence known. Hearing no reply to the moose 

 calls, we continued the journey. 



