82 ON THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS 
Bill grew and grew till his forehead began to itch 
and he rubbed it on trees, thus making the joyous 
discovery that his antlers were growing! It 
was not until autumn that he saw his father 
again. 
He well remembered the night. It was twi- 
light, fast deepening into dusk, when his mother 
stood up suddenly on the shore of a lonesome 
pond, where the summer campers had departed 
from their cottages in the woods, and elevating 
her head emitted a long-drawn, strange call. It 
echoed faintly, and again yet more faintly, from 
the woods on the farther banks. ‘Twice, three 
times, four times, she repeated it, and a little 
farther along the shore the other cow took it up. 
Bill had never heard his mother make this noise 
before, and he listened full of wonder. 
It seemed a long time after that his sharp ears 
heard a sound like two blows struck on a tree 
across the lake, or like a double cough, and then 
the unmistakable swish of something large enter- 
ing water, and swimming. ‘This watery swish 
came nearer. Bill heard now the panting of 
breath. His mother called once more, excitedly. 
