bow paddler stepped out on the dock, followed, one
by one, by those behind her, while the bow paddler sat still and held
the canoe fast to the pier. As the girls and boys stepped out they stood
in a row with their paddles resting on the dock before them. When all
the rest were out the bow paddler stepped up onto the deck. Uncle Teddy
stood at attention, facing the crew.

"Salute!"

"Yea!" Up went the paddles.

"Dismiss!"

Crew practice was over. The crew dove off the sides of the dock like
water rats and began to play tag around the war canoe, swimming around
it, and under it and diving off the bow, until a far-echoing blast on
the horn warned them it was time to come and play another sort of game.

At breakfast Aunt Clara told about seeing the big moose break through
the woods on the opposite shore, and immediately there rose a great
clamor.

"Oh, Uncle Teddy, can't we go over there and see if we can see it?"
cried Sahwah.

"Can't we have a big hunting party and kill it and bring home the
antlers to hang in the House of the Open Door?" asked the Captain.

"You forget it's not the hunting season," replied Uncle Teddy, "and
don't seem to be aware of the fact that there are such things as game
laws in this fair country."

There was a chorus of disappointment from the Winnebagos and Sandwiches,
whose imaginations had already gone forward to the great sport of
hunting the moose and bringing his antlers home in triumph to hang in
the House of the Open Door. Uncle Teddy saw the disappointment and
sympathized with the boys and girls, for he was a great hunter himself
and enjoyed nothing better than an expedition after game.

"I'll tell you what we'll do," he said. "We'll hunt the moose anyhow,
but we won't try to kill him. We'll just try to get a look at him. They
are getting so scarce nowadays in this part of the country that it's
worth a chase just to see one. If he really lives in those woods over
there he'll probably let himself be seen sooner or later. All we have to
do is find out where he goes to drink and then watch that place."

The Winnebagos thought that hunting the moose for a friendly purpose was
much nicer than killing him after all, and they were perfectly satisfied
with the sport as it was. The boys, of course, would rather have hunted
him down and secured his antlers, and thought that just looking at him
was rather tame sport, but under the circumstances that was the best
they could do.

"I kno