thinks to shoot an animal, even
a large one, in rapid motion, particularly among trees and brush;
something constantly gets in the way. Both animals were now tearing
along the brink of the deep stream, stumbling headlong one second, up
the next, plunging on. As often as Nat tried to steady himself on the
steep side of the bluff for a shot, either the horse was in the way or
both animals were wholly concealed by the bushes. Moreover, the boys
had to run fast through the brush to keep them in sight. Nat could not
shoot with certainty, and Jonathan grew wild over the delay.

"Shoot him yourself, then!" Nat retorted, panting.

Jonathan snatched the gun and dashed forward, Nat picking up the axe
and following after. On they ran for several hundred yards, barely
keeping pace with the animals. Jonathan experienced quite as much
difficulty in getting a shot as Nat had done.

At last he aimed and snapped--and the gun did not go off.

"You never primed it!" he exclaimed indignantly. Nat thought that he
had done so, but was not wholly certain; and feeling that he must do
his part somehow, he now dashed past Jonathan, and running on,
attempted to head the horse off at a little gully down the bank to
which they had now come. It was a brushy place; he fell headlong into
it himself, and rolled down, still grasping hard at the axe. He was
close upon the horse now, within a few yards of the water, and looking
up, he saw the moose's head among the alder brush. The creature
appeared to be staring at him, and regaining his feet, much excited,
Nat threw the axe with all his strength at the moose's head.

By chance rather than skill, the poll of the axe struck the animal
just above the eyes at the root of the antlers. It staggered, holding
its head to one side a moment, as if half-stunned or in pain. Then,
recovering, it snorted, and with a bound through the brush, jumped
into the stream, and either swam or waded across to the low sandy bank
on the other side. There it stood, still shaking its head.

Jonathan had caught up with Nat by this time, and they both stood
watching the moose for some moments, hoping that the mad animal had
now had enough of the fracas and would go his way. The horse was in
the brush of the little gully, sticking fast there, or tired out by
its exertions; and they now began considering how they could best
extricate it and get it back up the bluff.

Just then, however, their other horse neighed long and shrill