ut
withdrawing again instantly, as if in dread of the exposure. The source
of this erratic shadow was a lean backwoodsman, who, rifle in hand,
was stealing on moccasined feet down the lake shore under cover of the
fringing branches.

Suddenly across the water came a sound as if some one were thrashing the
underbrush with a stick. The hunter stopped short, and listened intently
from his place of concealment. Very well he knew that sound. It was a
bull moose eager for fight, thrashing the bushes with his great antlers
as a challenge to any rival who might be within hearing.

The woodsman's grizzled lips parted in a smile of satisfaction, and
after a glance at his rifle to see that the cartridge was in place, he
crept onward down the lake, well under cover and as soundless as his own
shadow. He expected to come upon the challenger somewhere near the foot
of the lake. He might, of course, have adopted a surer and lazier
method of hunting by staying where he was and imitating the call of the
big moose's mate; but this seemed to him gross treachery, and little
short of murder. He would almost as willingly have condescended to snare
the noble beast whom he gloried in overcoming in fair chase.

The hunter had not gone far, however, when another strange sound
disturbed the enchanted silence. It was harsh, wild, yet appealing, and
seemed in some way the very voice of the untamed wilderness. It was the
call of the shy cow moose.

The woodsman crept down to the shore and peered cautiously through the
screening boughs, to see whether the call was an authentic one or the
cheat of some other hunter less scrupulous than himself.

About a quarter of a mile down the shore a bare sand spit jutted out
into the sheen of the lake; and near its point, an ungainly black
silhouette against the bright water, stood the cow, calling, listening,
and calling again.

The hunter stood for a few moments, watching her with that deliberation
which marks the man of the woods. As he watched, suddenly the cow
wheeled half-round, as if startled, then dashed into the water, swam in
haste to the next point, and vanished among the trees.

The woodsman, much surprised, waited motionless where he was for a
couple of minutes, to see if the cause of her alarm would reveal itself.
Then, as no sign of life appeared on the brilliantly lighted sand spit,
he pressed on stealthily down the shore to investigate for himself.

In a few minutes--forest and lake mean