selessly and miraculously as he had come, the great
moose disappeared, simply fading into the darkness, and leaving the
stallion all a-tremble with apprehension. For some minutes he peered
anxiously into every black thicket within reach of his eyes, expecting a
rushing assault from some unexpected quarter. Then, glancing out again
across the lake, he saw that the cow had vanished from the moonlit
point. Bewildered, and in the grasp of an inexplicable trepidation, he
waded out into the lake belly-deep, skirted around the south shore,
climbed the steep slope, and plunged straight into the dark of the
woods. His impulse was to get away at once from the mysteries of that
little, lonely lake.

The deep woods, of course, for him were just as lonely as the lake, for
his heedless trampling and conspicuous colouring made a solitude all
about him as he went. At last, however, he stumbled upon a trail. This
he adopted gladly as his path, for it led away from the lake and in a
direction which his whim had elected to follow.

Moving now on the deep turf, with little sound save the occasional swish
of branches that brushed his flanks, he began to realize that the woods
were not as empty as he had thought. On each side, in the soft dark, he
heard little squeaks and rustlings and scurryings. Rabbits went bounding
across the trail, just under his nose. Once a fox trotted ahead of him,
looking back coolly at the great, white stranger. Once a small,
stripe-backed animal passed leisurely before him, and a whiff of pungent
smell annoyed his sensitive nose. Wide wings winnowed over him now and
then, making him jump nervously; and once a pouncing sound, followed by
a snarl, a squeal, and a scuffle, moved him to so keen an excitement
that he swerved a few steps from the trail in his anxiety to see what it
was all about. He failed to see anything, however, and after much
stumbling was relieved to get back to the easy trail again. With all
these unusual interests the miles and the hours seemed short to him; and
when the gray of dawn came filtering down among the trees, he saw before
him a clearing with two low-roofed cabins in the middle of it. Wild with
delight at this evidence of man's presence, he neighed shrilly, and
tore, up to the door of the nearest cabin at full gallop, his hoofs
clattering on the old chips which strewed the open.

To his bitter disappointment, he found the cabin, which was simply an
old lumber-camp, deserted. The door