at the long pendulous upper lip is one of the "tit-bits" of the fur
countries. Moreover, the fine hide would be an acceptable addition to
their stock, as it is the best of all deerskins for mocassins, as well
as snow-shoes--articles which Basil knew would soon be needed. For
these reasons he was unusually desirous of killing one of the moose.

He knew it would be difficult to approach them. He had heard that they
were shyest at that very season--the beginning of winter--and indeed
such is the case. No deer is so difficult to get a shot at as a moose
in early winter. In summer it is not so--as then the mosquitoes torment
these animals to such a degree that they pay less heed to other enemies,
and the hunter can more easily approach them. In winter they are always
on the alert. Their sense of smell--as well as of sight and hearing--is
acute to an extreme degree, and they are cunning besides. They can
scent an enemy a long distance off--if the wind be in their favour--and
the snapping of a twig, or the slightest rustle of the leaves, is
sufficient to start them off. In their journeyings through the snow,
when they wish to rest themselves, they make a sort of _detour_, and,
coming back, lie down near the track which they have already passed
over. This gives them an opportunity of hearing any enemy that may be
following upon their trail, and also of making off in a side-direction,
while the latter will be looking steadfastly ahead for them.

Basil had heard of all these tricks of the moose--for many an old
moose-hunter had poured his tale into Basil's ear. He proceeded,
therefore, with all due caution. He first buried his hand in his
game-bag, and after a little groping brought out a downy feather which
had chanced to be there. This he placed lightly upon the muzzle of his
rifle, and having gently elevated the piece above his head, watched the
feather. After a moment, the breeze carried it off, and Basil noted the
direction it took. This is called, in hunter phrase, "tossing the
feather," and gave Basil the exact direction of the wind--an important
knowledge in the present case. To Basil's gratification he saw that it
was blowing down the lake, and nearly towards himself. He was not
exactly to leeward of the moose; but, what was better still, the willows
that fringed the lake were, for he could see them bending from the deer,
as the breeze blew freshly. He knew he could easily get among the
willows; and as