CHESUNCOOK. 
101 
a moose killed a month or more before. We concluded 
merely to prepare our camp, and leave our baggage 
here, that all might be ready when we returned from 
moose-hunting. Though I had not come a-hunting, and 
felt some compunctions about accompanying the hunters, 
I wished to see a moose near at hand, and was not sorry 
to learn how the Indian managed to kill one. I went 
as reporter or chaplain to the hunters, — and the chap¬ 
lain has been known to carry a gun himself. After 
clearing a small space amid the dense spruce and fir 
trees, we covered the damp ground with a shingling of 
fir-twigs, and, while Joe was preparing his birch-horn 
and pitching his canoe, — for this had to be done when¬ 
ever we stopped long enough to build a fire, and was 
the principal labor which he took upon himself at such 
times, — we collected fuel for the night, large wet and 
rotting logs, which had lodged at the head of the island, 
for our hatchet was too small for effective chopping; but 
we did not kindle a fire, lest the moose should smell it. 
Joe set up a couple of forked stakes, and prepared half 
a dozen poles, ready to cast one of our blankets over 
in case it rained in the night, w T hich precaution, how¬ 
ever, was omitted the next night. We also plucked the 
ducks which had been killed for breakfast. 
While we were thus engaged in the twilight, we 
heard faintly, from far down the stream, what sounded 
like two strokes of a woodchopper’s axe, echoing dully 
through the grim solitude. We are wont to liken many 
sounds, heard at a distance in the forest, to the stroke 
of an axe, because they resemble each other under those 
circumstances, and that is the one we commonly hear 
there. When we told Joe of this, he exclaimed, “By 
George, I ’ll bet that was a moose! They make a noise 
