With Gun r> Rod in Canada 



While the cow was making its last kick, an enormous 

 bull showed himself for an instant, coming from the 

 same direction. It was in sight only a couple of seconds, 

 and neither Emery nor I had time to take the long shot. 

 As the big bull had taken the trail down towards Tug 

 and Joe, we expected to hear the old smooth-bore bellow 

 at any moment. After listening for twenty minutes, 

 Jim, who had now joined us, concluded that the big bull 

 must have taken to the water. 



We dressed the cow and carried it down to the two 

 canoes which we had used to cross Yeaton Lake from the 

 camp. It was a big load, and by the time I had Emery 

 in the bow of mine, and half a moose, there was barely 

 three inches of rail showing above water. Jim took 

 the other half of the big carcass in his canoe, and we 

 paddled back to the neck of land upon which our tents 

 were situated. Leaving the meat in the boats, we hurried 

 across the peninsula, expecting to find Joe and Tug 

 watching the trail. They were not in sight, but the 

 tracks of a regular old-timer of a bull passed right under 

 the big tree where Joe had placed Tug to watch. They 

 were just about the biggest moose tracks I had ever seen, 

 and the way the moss and mud were thrown out of 

 them and scattered among the bushes indicated that 

 that moose was in a considerable hurry to get out of the 

 country. Hoping to solve the mystery of Tug's dis- 

 appearance, we hastened over to the tents, where we 

 found Joe chopping wood and Tug on a stump still 

 asking questions. Joe hardly looked up at our approach, 

 but by the way he was making the chips fly I concluded 

 he was irritated about something. Tug greeted us as 

 follows : 



" Say, what are youse guys trying to put over ? Youse 

 must think Pm a chicken. You can't kid me, takin' 

 me way off in the bushes like this, and leavin' me up 



no 



