IX. MOOSE CALLING. 



IDNIGHT in the wilderness. 

 The belated moon wheels 

 slowly above the eastern ridge, 

 where for a few minutes past 

 ,i;\^' v^ a mighty pine and hundreds of 

 "**^j pointed spruce tops have been 

 standing out in inky blackness 

 against the gray and brightening background. The 

 silver light steals swiftly down the evergreen tops, 

 sending long black shadows creeping before it, and 

 falls glistening and shimmering across the sleeping 

 waters of a forest lake. No ripple breaks its polished 

 surface ; no plash of musquash or leaping trout sends 

 its vibrations up into the still, frosty air; no sound of 

 beast or bird awakens the echoes of the silent forest. 

 Nature seems dying, her life frozen out of her by the 

 chill of the October night ; and no voice tells of her 

 suffering. 



A moment ago the little lake la}' all black and 

 uniform, like a great well among the hills, with only 

 glimmering star-points to reveal its surface. Now, 



