114 
THE MAINE WOODS. 
size. It was but two or three rods across the meadow 
to the foot of the bank, which, like all the world there¬ 
abouts, was densely wooded; but I was surprised to 
notice, that, as soon as the moose had passed behind the 
veil of the woods, there was no sound of footsteps to be 
heard from the soft, damp moss which carpets that for¬ 
est, and long before we landed, perfect silence reigned. 
Joe said, “If you wound ’em moose, me sure get ’em.” 
W e all landed at once. My companion reloaded ; the 
Indian fastened his birch, threw off his hat, adjusted his 
waistband, seized the hatchet, and set out. He told me 
afterward, casually, that before we landed he had seen a 
drop of blood on the bank, when it was two or three 
rods off. He proceeded rapidly up the bank and through 
the woods, with a peculiar, elastic, noiseless, and stealthy 
tread, looking to right and left on the ground, and step¬ 
ping in the faint tracks of the wounded moose, now 
and then pointing in silence to a single drop of blood on 
the handsome, shining leaves of the Clintonia Borealis, 
which, on every side, covered the ground, or to a dry 
fern-stem freshly broken, all the while chewing some 
leaf or else the spruce gum. I followed, watching his 
motions more than the trail of the moose. After follow¬ 
ing the trail about forty rods in a pretty direct course, 
stepping over fallen trees and winding between standing 
ones, he at length lost it, for there were many other 
moose-tracks there, and, returning once more to the last 
blood-stain, traced it a little way and lost it again, and, 
too soon, I thought, for a good hunter, gave it up en¬ 
tirely. He traced a few steps, also, the tracks of the 
calf; but, seeing no blood, soon relinquished the search. 
I observed, while he was tracking the moose, a cer¬ 
tain reticence or moderation in him. He did not com- 
