bush and peer cautiously at the struggling brutes not
thirty feet away. Twice Mitchell hissed for his employer to come down;
but that worthy was safe astride the highest branch that would bear
his weight, with no desire evidently for a better view of the fight.
Then Mitchell found the rifle among the bushes and, waiting till the
bulls backed away for one of their furious charges, killed the larger
one in his tracks. The second stood startled an instant, with raised
head and muscles quivering, then dashed away across the barren and
into the forest.

Such encounters are often numbered among the tragedies of the great
wilderness. In tramping through the forest one sometimes comes upon
two sets of huge antlers locked firmly together, and white bones,
picked clean by hungry prowlers. It needs no written record to tell
their story.

Once I saw a duel that resulted differently. I heard a terrific
uproar, and crept through the woods, thinking to have a savage
wilderness spectacle all to myself. Two young bulls were fighting
desperately in an open glade, just because they were strong and proud
of their first big horns.

But I was not alone, as I expected. A great flock of crossbills
swooped down into the spruces, and stopped whistling in their
astonishment. A dozen red squirrels snickered and barked their
approval, as the bulls butted each other. Meeko is always glad when
mischief is afoot. High overhead floated a rare woods' raven, his head
bent sharply downward to see. Moose-birds flitted in restless
excitement from tree to bush. Kagax the weasel postponed his
bloodthirsty errand to the young rabbits. And just beside me, under
the fir tips, Tookhees the wood-mouse forgot his fear of the owl and
the fox and his hundred enemies, and sat by his den in broad daylight,
rubbing his whiskers nervously.

So we watched, till the bull that was getting the worst of it backed
near me, and got my wind, and the fight was over.

X. CH'GEEGEE-LOKH-SIS.

[Illustration]

That is the name which the northern Indians give to the black-capped
tit-mouse, or chickadee. "Little friend Ch'geegee" is what it means;
for the Indians, like everybody else who knows Chickadee, are fond of
this cheery little brightener of the northern woods. The first time I
asked Simmo what his people called the bird, he answered with a smile.
Since then I have asked other Indians, and always a smile, a pleased
look lit up the dark grim faces as they told m