bay, where Southeast Brook came singing from the green wilderness.

"Ohe, Mooka! there's father and Old Tomah come back from salmon
fishing."

"Let's go meet um, little brother," said Mooka, her black eyes dancing;
and in a wink crabs and sledges were forgotten. The old punt was off in
a shake, the tattered sail up, skipper Noel lounging in the stern, like
an old salt, with the steering oar, while the crew, forgetting her
nipped finger, tugged valiantly at the main-sheet.

They were scooting away gloriously, rising and pounding the waves, when
Mooka, who did not have to steer and whose restless glance was roving
over every bay and hillside, jumped up, her eyes round as lynx's.

"Look, Noel, look! There's Megaleep again watching us." And Noel,
following her finger, saw far up on the mountain a stag caribou, small
and fine and clear as a cameo against the blue sky, where they had so
often noticed him with wonder watching them as they came shouting home
with the tide. Instantly Noel threw himself against the steering oar;
the punt came up floundering and shaking in the wind.

"Come on, little sister; we can go up Fox Brook. Tomah showed me trail."
And forgetting the salmon, as they had a moment before forgotten the
crabs and sledges, these two children of the wild, following every
breeze and bird call and blossoming bluebell and shining star alike,
tumbled ashore and went hurrying up the brook, splashing through the
shallows, darting like kingfishers over the points, and jumping like
wild goats from rock to rock. In an hour they were far up the mountain,
lying side by side on a great flat rock, looking across a deep
impassable valley and over two rounded hilltops, where the scrub spruces
looked like pins on a cushion, to the bare, rugged hillside where
Megaleep stood out like a watchman against the blue sky.

"Does he see us, little brother?" whispered Mooka, quivering with
excitement and panting from the rapid climb.

"See us? sartin, little sister; but that only make him want peek um some
more," said the little hunter. And raised carelessly on his elbows he
was telling Mooka how Megaleep the caribou trusted only his nose, and
how he watched and played peekaboo with anything which he could not
smell, and how in a snowstorm--

Noel was off now like a brook, babbling a deal of caribou lore which he
had learned from Old Tomah the hunter, when Mooka, whose restless black
eyes were always wandering, seized his arm.