ally the lonely little pond at the end of the trail, was
lovelier than ever before; but something in the south was calling him
away. I think that Quoskh was also moonstruck, as so many wild creatures
are; for, instead of sleeping quietly on the shore, he spent his time
circling aimlessly over the lake and woods, crying his name aloud, or
calling wildly to his fellows.

At midnight of the day before I broke camp, I was out on the lake for a
last paddle in the moonlight. The night was perfect,--clear, cool,
intensely still. Not a ripple broke the great burnished surface of the
lake; a silver pathway stretched away and away over the bow of my
gliding canoe, leading me on to where the great forest stood, silent,
awake, expectant, and flooded through all its dim, mysterious arches
with marvelous light. The wilderness never sleeps. If it grow silent, it
is to listen. To-night the woods were tense as a waiting fox, watching
to see what new thing would come out of the lake, or what strange
mystery would be born under their own soft shadows.

Quoskh was abroad too, bewitched by the moonlight. I heard him calling
and paddled down. He knew me long before he was anything more to me than
a voice of the night, and swept up to meet me. For the first time after
darkness fell I saw him--just a vague, gray shadow with edges touched
softly with silver light, which whirled once over my canoe and looked
down into it. Then he vanished; and from far over on the edge of the
waiting woods, where the mystery was deepest, came a cry, a challenge, a
riddle, the night's wild question which no man has ever yet
answered--_Quoskh? quoskh?_

[Illustration]

UNK WUNK THE PORCUPINE

[Illustration]

A rustling in the brakes just outside my little tent roused me from a
light slumber. There it was again! the push of some heavy animal trying
to move noiselessly through the tangle close at hand; while from the old
lumber camp in the midst of the clearing a low gnawing sound floated up
through the still night. I sat up quickly to listen; but at the slight
movement all was quiet again. The night prowlers had heard me and were
on their guard.

One need have no fear of things that come round in the night. They are
much shyer than you are, and can see you better; so that, if you blunder
towards them, they mistake your blindness for courage, and take to their
heels promptly. As I stepped out there was a double rush in some bushes
behind my tent, an