odland
amphitheatre, a rifle ball, laden with death, brings him to the ground.

In some districts the Indians employ another method of calling. They
conceal themselves in a swamp, in the midst of some damp mossy valley,
during a dark night. One holds a torch of birch-bark with a match ready
for lighting. The hunter calls, and the moose approaches more readily
than towards the open "barren." When the creature is within distance of
the deadly rifle, the match is applied to the torch, which, flaring up,
illuminates the swamp, and discovers the startled moose standing amidst
the trees, and incapable apparently of flight. The Indians declare that
he is fascinated by the light; and though he may walk round and round
it, he will not leave the spot, and thus presents an easy mark to the
hunter's rifle.

Let us set forth on an expedition to "creep" moose, which may be
described as a similar mode of hunting to stalking. The ground we
select is among the "barrens" before described. It is strewed with dead
trees in all directions, amid which briars and bushes have grown up, and
conceal their sharp, broken limbs, and the rough granite rocks scattered
in all directions. Here, collecting wood for burning, we form our camp,
and sit round the blazing fire, on which a well-filled frying-pan is
hissing, while we are covered by our blankets to protect ourselves from
the pattering rain-drops. Our suppers over, we stretch ourselves for
repose, and gradually fall asleep, as the snapping of the logs on the
fire, the pattering of the rain, and the hootings of the owls in the
distant forest become less and less distinct. Our Indian brings us
notice in the morning that two moose have passed close to the camp
during the night. However, in spite of the plaintive call from the
treacherous bark trumpet, they will not approach, having been forewarned
of danger by the smell of our camp-fire. We make our way amid the
bushes, already leafless, except that here and there are seen bunches of
dwarf maples with a few scarlet leaves of autumn still clinging to them.
Presently our companion whispers, "Down--sink down! slow--like me!" A
magnificent bull appears about five hundred yards off. The wind is
blowing from him to us. The Indian utters the usual call; but the moose
does not answer, having already a companion close at hand. Presently he
lies down in the bushes, and we worm ourselves slowly and laboriously
towards the edge of the alder sw