agreed to leave the Indian
to keep the camp (after locking up the whiskey-flask in my bag), and
take Billy with us on Monday to 'call' at Hogan's Pond.

"It's a small bit of water, about three-quarters of a mile long and
four hundred yards across, and four miles back from the river. There is
no trail to it, but a blazed line runs part of the way, and for the
rest you follow up the little brook that runs out of the pond. We stuck
up our shelter in a hollow on the brook, half a mile below the pond, so
that the smoke of our fire would not drift over the hunting-ground, and
waited till five o'clock in the afternoon. Then we went up to the pond,
and took our position in a clump of birch-trees on the edge of the open
meadow that runs round the east shore. Just at dark Billy began to
call, and it was beautiful. You know how it goes. Three short grunts,
and then a long ooooo-aaaa-ooooh, winding up with another grunt! It
sounded lonelier than a love-sick hippopotamus on the house-top. It
rolled and echoed over the hills as if it would wake the dead.

[Illustration: "Billy began to call, and it was beautiful."]

"There was a fine moon shining, nearly full, and a few clouds floating
by. Billy called, and called, and called again. The air grew colder and
colder; light frost on the meadow-grass; our teeth were chattering,
fingers numb.

"Then we heard a bull give a short bawl, away off to the southward.
Presently we could hear his horns knock against the trees, far up on
the hill. McDonald whispered, 'He's comin',' and Billy gave another
call.

"But it was another bull that answered, back of the north end of the
pond, and pretty soon we could hear him rapping along through the
woods. Then everything was still. 'Call agen,' says McDonald, and Billy
called again.

"This time the bawl came from another bull, on top of the western hill,
straight across the pond. It seemed to start up the other two bulls,
and we could hear all three of them thrashing along, as fast as they
could come, towards the pond. 'Call agen, a wee one,' says McDonald,
trembling with joy. And Billy called a little, seducing call, with two
grunts at the end.

"Well, sir, at that, a cow and a calf came rushing down through the
brush not two hundred yards away from us, and the three bulls went
splash into the water, one at the south end, one at the north end, and
one on the west shore. 'Lord,' whispers McDonald, 'it's a
meenadgerie!'"

"Dud," said the engin