58 PKAIRIE AND FOREST. 



started up an acclivity; after an hour's rough and 

 difficult walking, the Indian stopped and sounded a 

 note on his calling-horn. To this there was no 

 response, but my friend assured me, " Plenty moose 

 by-by." 



The night was as beautiful as the day preceding it. 

 The hunter's moon was at its full, and near objects 

 could be seen almost as distinctly as when the sun was 

 high in the heavens. Several efforts with the call 

 had been made ; disappointment and failure began to 

 appear certain, when a distant and unknown sound 

 struck my ear. At the same moment the redskin 

 seized my arm and whispered, " Old bull." We both 

 placed ourselves in a hemlock tree, and numerous 

 were the injunctions I received of the necessity of 

 silence. Afraid to move, cramped in an awkward 

 position, for near a mortal hour I endured the tor- 

 ments, certainly not of the blessed; still move I 

 would not, ultimately could not, as the answering 

 voice of the bull in response to the Indian's call 

 told that the giant was rapidly approaching. At 

 length oh, how glad I was ! the noblest game I had 

 ever set eyes upon broke into the opening at a cautious 

 trot, hesitated, stopped, and impatiently stamped his 

 foot. The distance that the moose was from us could 

 not have been more than thirty yards. Slowly and im- 

 perceptibly the Indian's gun was getting into shooting 

 position. I attempted to do the same with mine, when 

 oh ! what excuse can I offer ? bang went the right 

 barrel, and, but for a vigorous effort, I should have 

 fallen from my perch. 



I had better draw a veil over the recriminations that 

 ensued, for homicide was nearly the result, whether 



