Hunting the Giant Moose 



Both Hunter and I thought this was the same 

 bull which we had twice seen before, as he carried 

 rather an unusual head, and had come from the 

 same direction and to the same place. 



The next day it rained even harder, and the 

 clouds were so low that we could not see the moun- 

 tain side, and therefore had no temptation to leave 

 camp. My patience was by this time nearly ex- 

 hausted, for the continual rain was very depress- 

 ing, and detracted much from the pleasure of be- 

 ing in such a grand game country. 



About noon I was sitting before the fire when 

 Lawroshka went to the lake, only some ten steps 

 away, for a pail of water. Here he saw a bull 

 moose standing on the other side. He beckoned 

 to me, and I seized my rifle and cautiously ap- 

 proached the native. The moose offered an easy 

 shot at 250 yards, and my first bullet rolled him 

 over. His head was disappointing, but it is often 

 difficult to tell the size of a moose's antlers when 

 they are half hidden in the trees. 



We woke next morning to the usual dismal sur- 

 roundings, and remained in camp all that day. 

 Late that afternoon the fog lifted and we saw 

 the same large moose in his accustomed place 

 among the alders, but it was too late in the day to 

 try for him. 



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