the (k't-r, for il would kl llif goose — the other fellow- • 

 know thai there was a canoe on the pond, thai the ])ond 

 was niort<;a_L;ed and he luul heller ski]). TIk- deer, how- 

 ever, were in an awkward ])laee to he shot at with efTect. 

 However, I ditl shoot and missed. They wheeled like a 

 flash and houndetl into the woods. The sound of the 

 shot reached the goose with the 50-100 rifle who ste])i)e(l 

 out into the o]K-n, saw lis, and startrd hack for his camp. 

 We now paddled to the other side of the pond and as 

 the sun was coming out warm we left our coats and \"ests 

 in the canoe, took with us a tin cup and four houillon 

 capsules and lelt. feeling sure that the cannonading 

 already indulged in would hinder \is seeing any more 

 game that daw We left the canoe exactly at eight 

 o'clock (I know, for I looked at my watch on starting). 

 Not more than five minutes later my foot stumhled in the 

 bog. Recovering my foothold and looking up I saw a 

 sight that startled me almost as nnich as the ghost of 

 Hamlet's father startled the melanchol\- Dane. Not a 

 hundred yards away a great hull moose, with wide-spread- 

 ing antlers and dilated nostrils stood looking straight at 

 me from between two trees. The place where he was 

 standing was one wliere a man would least expect to .see 

 him, because, by all rules of prudence and usually safe 

 moose conduct, tlu- noise of the late ritle shots should by 

 this time haw dri\en him miles awa\- from this localitw 

 It ap]iears it did not. And what did 1 do under the 

 cir(.-umstances? Well, ])recisely what an\' other man 

 woidd ha\e done. I'p went my rille and without sighting 

 or even an attemi)t to take careful aim, I blazed away. 

 And the moose? Ah ! Like a ghost he came and like a 



