A LOST MAN AND A WOUNDED MOOSE. 



I have lost my way. 



—Antony iind Cleopatra. 



IT is the unexpected that ;iUv:iys happens in hunting. 

 When you most desire and look for your -ame. then 

 is the time you don't see it, and when and where 

 you don't look for it, then and there you're apt to run 

 against it. 



My guides had told me marvelous tales of the 

 hunting opportunities that flourished anmnd a certain 

 pond or small lake, a couple of days journey from our 

 camping ground. To find out whether these tales were 

 true or not, 1 thou.^ht it worth while to go there, 

 especially as one of the guides had spent the previous 

 xvinter in a luml.er camp near by, and was familiar, or 

 ought to have been, with the cuntrv . There was a very 

 large bog, five miles long and about a nule broad, which 

 was a favorite haunt ..f the caribou, moose and deer, who 

 found in it enou.^h rich food for sustenance without 

 resorting to any other locality. 



Very pretty and promising all this, but " there's no 

 rose without a iliorn," and this rose of ours had one m 

 the shape of a goose-a goose of a sportsman who was 

 camped on a stream some tw.. miles away from the pond. 



1^5 



