RECREA TION. 



109 



could hear the big brute churning the 

 soft ground, splashing through water 

 and crashing over dead brush. Occa- 

 sionally he would stop to listen. Then 

 we feared he might have winded us and 

 that he would turn and we should never 

 see him. He would move a few steps 

 toward us, but cautiously, warily. Again 

 he would seem to have determined that 

 it was all right — that there was no danger. 

 At last he reached the edge of the cover 

 and peered cautiously out of the thicket, 

 over the lake, showing only his antlers ; 

 and what a magnificent pair they were ! 

 They appeared to my distorted imagi- 

 nation to spread out and reach up like 

 the branches of a great oak tree. 



" I wanted a view of his body before 

 firing, but dared not wait. The old giant 

 was suspicious. He would come no far- 

 ther. We were well hidden, so he could 

 not see us, and though the wind — what 

 little there was — blew from him to us, 

 yet we feared he might, in some way, 

 divine our presence and then — good-bye. 



" I raised my Winchester, cautiously. 

 Then I discovered for the first, that time 

 had been speeding while we waited and 

 that it had grown dusk, I took the best 

 aim possible at the great mass of strag- 

 gling antlers, dropped to where I 

 thought the head was and pressed the 

 trigger. The bull plunged, heavily, 

 wheeled and dashed away in the now 

 darkened forest. I threw in another 

 cartridge and fired a second, then a 

 third shot, as he turned, but could hear 

 him charging madly away. Finally all 

 was still again. 



''Then we went over to where he had 

 stood, went into the black undergrowth 

 of bushes, but could hear or see 

 nothing." 



u Did you follow him ?" 



" No, it was too dark for that. We 

 concluded that if he was dead he was 

 safe enough, if alive, we could do bet- 

 ter in the morning, so we returned to 

 camp, ate a hearty supper and I ex- 

 changed stories of the evening's hunt 

 with Pierce. We breakfasted before day- 

 light the next morning, and as soon as 

 we could see to travel were on the way 

 to the scene of the evening's shooting. 



Arriving there we took up the trail, which 

 we followed easily for about two miles, 

 the bull having bled freely. Finally we 

 found where he had lain down three times, 

 all the beds being close together. Then 

 we knew he was growing weak and that 

 he was not far away. We moved cau- 

 tiously some 300 or 400 yards farther, 

 when we sighted the moose, walking 

 slowly from us. He evidently had not 

 heard, seen nor scented us. I crawled 

 up to within about 50 yards of him 

 and fired three shots, in quick succes- 

 sion. At the third he fell dead. 



" Then we discovered that my first 

 shot, of the evening before, had gone 

 higher than I intended, entering the top 

 of his neck, that the second had missed, 

 and that the third had entered his ham 

 as he fled. The first or second shot, of 

 this morning, had struck in the rump, 

 and the third, fired as he turned, had 

 pierced his heart, passed through his 

 body and lodged against the skin on the 

 other side." 



*' You must have had a big day's work 

 getting him out of the woods." 



"We did not attempt to move the 

 carcass. At this season of the year the 

 meat of the bull moose is not good ; but 

 we had some difficulty in getting the 

 head and skin out. The first thing to 

 be done was to return to camp, get the 

 camera, go back to the game and make 

 a series of pictures of it. This occupied 

 the forenoon. In the afternoon we skinned 

 the moose, took off his head, carried this 

 and the skin to the canoe and reached 

 camp at dark, about as tired and as 

 hungry as men ever get in the woods. 

 We brought out the bull's tongue and 

 a few cuts of steak ; but while they 

 afforded a change from our past week's 

 diet of pork, they were tough and we 

 did not relish either of them." 



" Of course you have had the head 

 mounted ?" 



" Most assuredly. It has been hand- 

 somely done by Fred. Sauter, of No. 3 

 North William street, New York, one of 

 the best taxidermists in the city, and there 

 isn't enough money in any bank in town 

 to buy it, or the negatives I got of the 

 old Monarch of the Forest." 



