MOOSE HUNTING AND CALLING. 179 



smoke along the ridges. Consequently, as the frost was by 

 this time hard, we endured some cold. 



A windy evening for the lake lay high spoilt our 

 chances ; the next fell quiet and calm. Just before sunset 

 Ed and I paddled across and called, not expecting an answer 

 so early, but quite hopeful of getting one later. The canoe, 

 in the prow of which I was sitting, was thrust in between 

 two rocks, so that I might watch the south shore while Ed 

 watched the north. The dusk was already turning to dark- 

 ness, and not a sound had I heard, when Ed whispered, 

 " A big bull has come in. If you can turn round, he's your 

 moose/' 



I turned with infinite caution, and following the line of 

 his extended arm saw in the black shadow a whitish blur 

 the horns of the bull. He was about one hundred and fifty 

 yards distant, and standing so still that I fancied he had 

 heard us. I did not dare to risk a whisper, but, making 

 out as I thought the huge bulk of his body, fired. He did 

 not move, so I fired twice more, each time aiming for the 

 lungs, or rather where I judged the lungs to be. The third 

 cartridge stuck. I tore at it with my fingers, while Ed 

 said, " Quick ; give him another ! " Before I could ex- 

 tract the cartridge and do so the moose had walked back 

 into the wood at the lakeside from which he had emerged. 

 He made no sound, but both of us were pretty sure all was 

 well, since we were agreed that we had heard the bullets tell. 

 Indeed, we lit the lantern and went to look. All that we 

 found, however, was a series of tracks leading across a marsh 

 and losing themselves upon a high ridge beyond it. Even 

 then I felt certain that I had held straight, and that on the 

 morrow we must find a bull dead and at no great distance. 



It was a chance remark of Ed's which awoke me to a 

 knowledge of the full depth of the tragedy. " When, before 

 you turned, I saw him come out broadside on, heading to 

 camp " he said. 



