moose.

On this point he was presently quite assured, for he had little more
than reached cover again when he saw the cow reappear on the open beach
a short distance up the lake. She walked out till her fore hoofs were at
the very edge of the water, then called again and again. She knew that
somewhere in these illimitable shades, bold but crafty, her mate was
watching and listening.

In answer to her call he was likely to come rushing up noisily, defying
all peril, and flinging his challenge abroad for all whom it might
interest. But to-night there was a vague suspicion in the air. It was
probable that he would come silently, and give no hint of his coming
until he stood beside her on the beach.

The point of beach whereon the cow was standing was carefully chosen
with reference to the scare which she had received a half-hour earlier.
It was where a little stream flowed in through a space of wild meadow,
so that there was ample open all about her, and no enemy could get
nearer than forty or fifty yards without revealing himself.

From the foot of the lake the woodsman approached with a stealth that
none of the wild kindred themselves could surpass. Skirting the back of
the meadow, he drew near from the upper side, expecting that any
response the call might bring would come from that direction. Then he
hid himself in a dense thicket of willows near the water.

Meanwhile there were others besides the woodsman for whom the calling of
the lonely cow had interest. The great black bear, having recovered from
his panic and put what he thought a safe distance between himself and
the dangerous stranger, had slipped his huge bulk through the underbrush
without a sound, and glared out savagely over the meadow to the solitary
figure on the beach.

He knew that he was no match in speed for a frightened cow moose, and he
saw that the distance across the open was too great for him to carry the
matter by a rush. That cow was not for him, apparently. His mouth
watered, but he held himself firmly under cover, waiting in the hope
that some whimsical fortune of the woods might throw opportunity in his
way.

Suddenly his ears caught a tiny but suggestive sound. Somewhere far up
the course of the little brook a twig snapped sharply. He turned his
attention away from the cow, and listened. That chance sound, so
conspicuous on the expectant silence, might signify the coming of the
antlered bull.

The bear would much rather have spare