364 TKAVEL, ADVENTURE, AND SPORT. 



Half a mile up, following in Tom's footsteps, I 

 suddenly became aware of something away up the 

 gulch-side, standing in a belt of bull-pine, which 

 caused me to say in low accents, " Whoa, Tom ! " 

 and as quickly to drop on one knee. I could dimly 

 make out the hind quarters of some big animal 

 wapiti or moose, I knew not. I selected in a good 

 deal less time than it takes to write, the spot where 

 I judged his shoulder ought to be, and fired. Out 

 came, in a somewhat sickly condition, quite the 

 biggest bull-moose I have ever seen. Before he 

 could get out of sight again over the crest of the hill, 

 I gave him another ball, which took effect, and then 

 he was lost to sight. In an instant the dog, a cross 

 between a Newfoundland and a setter, was up the 

 gulch-side, and before we had struggled ten yards 

 after him, his yelping assured us that the quarry 

 was at bay. Arrived at the top, almost out of 

 breath, we found the moose shaking his mighty 

 head, and coming on. the "dead" charge for us. 

 Before he had moved ten yards, however, I had 

 settled him with a shot in the breast, and he fell 

 with a crash. Such luck as this I had hardly dared 

 to hope for, and there he lay. 



"Guess you've got to the joint in good shape 

 this time, pard," said Tom; to which characteristic 

 compliment I could only say, " Bully, you bet ! " 



I had " got to the joint " the first shot, as we 

 found on examining his shoulder, as the ball from 



