keep the half with the hole in it 

 sssh!" 



He had spoken in a low tone for we 

 might see game at any time, and 

 his abnipt ending warned me that 

 something interesting was about to 

 happen. Nimrod in the bow of his 

 canoe nearby was already craning 

 his neck at some object across the 

 lake, perhaps half a mile. 



Bobbie was calling in an excited 

 whisper to Sally to look at the moose, 

 and then I saw the creature, a spike- 

 horn bull, wading in the shallow 

 water eating lily buds. Quite at 

 home he pursued his breakfast undis- 

 turbed by us (we were silent and not 

 near) as though he knew the law 

 protected him until the first of Octo- 

 ber. Of course, he had nothing to 

 fear from us at any time, we were 

 not hunting spike-horns, but health 

 and happiness. 



For several minutes the canoes 

 stole toward him, as he was on the 

 very spot where we were to land. 

 Then, realising the continued ap- 

 proach of the strangers, he bestirred 

 himself a bit, turned out of the 

 water, shook the moisture from his 



