twig, or made the slightest noise, they'd
think it was one of their mortal enemies, a bear--creeping on them, and
they'd be up and away. Their sense of hearing is very keen, but they're
not so quick to see. A fox is like that, too. His eyes aren't equal to
his nose.

"Stalking is the most merciful way to kill a moose. Then they haven't
the fright and suffering of the chase."

"I don't see why they need to be killed at all," said Mrs. Wood. "If I
knew that forest back of the mountains was full of wild creatures, I
think I'd be glad of it, and not want to hunt them, that is, if they
were harmless and beautiful creatures like the deer."

"You're a woman," said Mr. Wood, "and women are more merciful than men.
Men want to kill and slay. They're like the Englishman, who said: 'What
a fine day it is; let's go out and kill something.'"

"Please tell us some more about the dogs that helped you catch the
moose, uncle," said Miss Laura, I was sitting up very straight beside
her, listening to every word Mr. Wood said, and she was fondling my
head.

"Well, Laura, when we camped out on the snow and slept on spruce boughs
while we were after the moose, the dogs used to be a great comfort to
us. They slept at our feet and kept us warm. Poor brutes, they mostly
had a rough time of it. They enjoyed the running and chasing as much as
we did, but when it came to broken ribs and sore heads, it was another
matter, Then the porcupines bothered them. Our dogs would never learn to
let them alone. If they were going through the woods where there were no
signs of moose and found a porcupine, they'd kill it. The quills would
get in their mouths and necks and chests, and we'd have to gag them and
take bullet molds or nippers, or whatever we had, sometimes our
jack-knives, and pull out the nasty things. If we got hold of the dogs
at once, we could pull out the quills with our fingers. Sometimes the
quills had worked in, and the dogs would go home and lie by the fire
with running sores till they worked out. I've seen quills work right
through dogs. Go in on one side and come out on the other."

"Poor brutes," said Mrs. Wood. "I wonder you took them."

"We once lost a valuable hound while moose hunting," said Mr. Wood. "The
moose struck him with his hoof and the dog was terribly injured, and lay
in the woods for days, till a neighbor of ours, who was looking for
timber, found him and brought him home on his shoulders. Wasn't there
rejoicing am