oded to the water's edge. Diagonally thrust out across the
outlet, and about a hundred yards above it, ran a low, bare spit of
white sand, evidently covered at high water. Over the black line of the
woods hung a yellow crescent moon, only a few nights old and near
setting.

Coming suddenly from the difficult gloom of the woods, where the noise
of his own movements kept his senses occupied to the exclusion of all
else, the wanderer stopped and stood quite still for a long time under
the shadow of a thick hemlock, investigating this new world with ear and
eye and nostril. Presently, a few hundred yards around the lake shore,
to his left, almost opposite the jutting sand-spit, arose a noisy
crashing and thrashing of the bushes. As he listened in wonder, his ears
erect and eagerly interrogative, the noise stopped, and again the
intense silence settled down upon the forest. A minute or two later a
big, high-shouldered, shambling, hornless creature came out upon the
sand-spit, stood blackly silhouetted against the moonlight, stretched
its ungainly neck, and sent across the water that harsh, bleating cry
of appeal which he had been hearing night after night. It was the cow
moose calling for her mate. And in almost instant answer arose again
that great crashing among the underbrush on the opposite shore.

[Illustration: "IT WAS THE COW MOOSE CALLING FOR HER MATE."]

With a certain nervousness added to his curiosity, the white stallion
listened as the crashing noise drew near. At the same time something in
his blood began to tingle with the lust of combat. There was menace in
the approaching sounds, and his courage arose to meet it. All at once,
within about fifty yards of him, and just across the outlet, the noise
ceased absolutely. For perhaps ten minutes there was not a sound,--not
the snap of a twig or the splash of a ripple,--except that twice again
came the call of the solitary cow standing out against the moon. Then,
so suddenly that he gave an involuntary snort of amazement at the
apparition, the wanderer grew aware of a tall, black bulk with enormous
antlers which took shape among the undergrowth not ten paces distant.

The wanderer's mane rose along his arched neck, his lips drew back
savagely over his great white teeth, fire flamed into his eyes, and for
a score of seconds he stared into the wicked, little, gleaming eyes of
the bull moose. He was eager for the fight, but waiting for the enemy to
begin. Then, as noi