‘MIDST THE LITTLE STREAMS. 177 
Roman nose up, great form towering above 
the bushes. He had got a suspicion. 
Then he jumped, but it was too late, for in 
that instant old Ephraim made his rush. 
It was a great battle, and it lasted a full 
hour, for even a young bull-moose is not every 
beast’s prey. Old Ephraim needed all his 
astonishing unexpected agility to keep from 
being in the way of the slashing horns and 
the razor hoofs. 
In the end, however, when evening came, 
bringing the robber-birds and two ghoul- 
like ravens to make inquiries, they found 
old Ephraim interring the moose among 
the balsams. Then the birds retired, dis- 
appointed. 
