amage had been done
after all by that mad charge of the infuriated bull moose. The rent in
the canvas could be readily mended, and as for Jimmy's loss it was his
companions' gain, so that there would be no lament made save by the late
owner.

"I didn't know moose ever roamed as far north as this," remarked Ned.

"How about that, Francois?" asked Frank, who, it might be noticed, kept
his gun close beside him now, as though meaning to be ready in case
another cause for excitement arose.

"It is not often zat ze bull moose come up here," replied the French
Canadian, in his queer patois; "but sometimes in summer zey wander far
afield. I haf seen ze same so mooch as three hundred mile north from
here."

"One thing sure, there are plenty of caribou around," Teddy went on to
say; "and when the meat's tender, it suits me all right. I'm running
across new things every day up here, and don't feel sorry I came, so
far."

"New things seem to be running across us also," chuckled Frank; "for
instance, the monster that just invaded our camp. But as our supply of
red sweaters has given out now, we'll hope not to have a repeat of that
charge in a hurry."

"Me for a tree if ever I hear anything on four legs heading this way
again!" Jimmy told them. "Why, what would have happened to me if the old
four flusher had set his hoofs square on my stomach? I'd be feeling
pretty punk right now, believe me."

"I think I'll take to the tall timber myself if this thing gets common,"
was what Jack observed. "My stars! but he was a whopper. Looked like the
side of a house to me when he sizzled past, scattering the fire,
leveling our best tent, and kicking up a whole circus with a band wagon
attached."

"What was it we were talking about when we had that unexpected call?"
asked Teddy.

"Ned was telling us something more that trapper we met said to him about
the queer things that happen away up here in this uninhabited country,
which is so different from any other known land. Didn't he say something
about a phantom fleet of vessels that kept bobbing up every now and
then, only to speed away like ghosts. What did you make of that silly
rot, Ned?"

"I've been puzzling my head over it ever since," Ned replied, "but for
the life of me can't make head or tail of the story. I've almost come
to the conclusion that the trapper was a little dippy, and just imagined
he saw those vessels."

"Sounds like it to me, Ned," Jack declared. "Whatever would