e found such comfort--yes, he had to confess
it--in the company of the helpless little dog whose bed was by his own.

But these were sensations that come not often; in the four days and
nights that he was alone they lost all force.

The hunter proverb about "strange beasts when you have no gun" was amply
illustrated now that Quonab had gone with their only firearm. The second
night before turning in (he slept in the shanty now), he was taking a
last look at the stars, when a large, dark form glided among the tree
trunks between him and the shimmering lake; stopped, gazed at him, then
silently disappeared along the shore. No wonder that he kept the shanty
door closed that night, and next morning when he studied the sandy
ridges he read plainly that his night visitor had been not a lynx or a
fox, but a prowling cougar or panther.

On the third morning as he went forth in the still early dawn he heard
a snort, and looking toward the spruce woods, was amazed to see towering
up, statuesque, almost grotesque, with its mulish ears and antediluvian
horns, a large bull moose.

Rolf was no coward, but the sight of that monster so close to him set
his scalp a-prickling. He felt so helpless without any firearms. He
stepped into the cabin, took down his bow and arrows, then gave a
contemptuous "Humph; all right for partridge and squirrels, but give me
a rifle for the woods!" He went out again; there was the moose standing
as before. The lad rushed toward it a few steps, shouting; it stared
unmoved. But Rolf was moved, and he retreated to the cabin. Then
remembering the potency of fire he started a blaze on the hearth. The
thick smoke curled up on the still air, hung low, made swishes through
the grove, until a faint air current took a wreath of it to the moose.
The great nostrils drank in a draught that conveyed terror to the
creature's soul, and wheeling it started at its best pace to the distant
swamp, to be seen no more.

Five times, during these four days, did deer come by and behave as
though they knew perfectly well that this young human was harmless,
entirely without the power of the far-killing mystery.

How intensely Rolf wished for a gun. How vividly came back the scene
in the trader's store,--when last month he had been offered a beautiful
rifle for twenty-five dollars, to be paid for in fur next spring, and
savagely he blamed himself for not realizing what a chance it was. Then
and there he made resolve to be the o