ers, but it was
too late in the day to try for him.

That night the wind veered to the west, and just as I was about to turn
in, the rain stopped and a few stars shone faintly in the heavens. The
weather had been so constantly bad that even these signs failed to cheer
me, and I had decided that we would break camp the next day no matter
what the conditions might be. But the morning (September 22) opened
bright and clear, with the first good frost in two weeks. We were most
anxious for a cold snap, for the leaves were still thick upon the trees,
which made it next to impossible to sec game in the woods at any
distance.

After breakfast we shouldered our packs and were soon on the march,
expecting to reach our permanent quarters in the moose range before
noon, and have the afternoon to hunt. Bright days had been so rare with
us that we meant to make the most of this one.

The heavy rains had flooded the woods, and the deep worn game trails
that we followed were half full of water, while the open meadows and
tundra that we occasionally crossed were but little better than
miniature lakes. We had made about half of our march and my pack had
just begun to grow doubly heavy from constant floundering around in the
mire, when we came out into a long and narrow meadow. There were a few
dwarf spruce at our end, but the rest of the small opening was free of
underbrush.

Hunter was leading and I was close behind with Stereke at heel, while
the native was a few steps further back. I had noticed my dog a short
time before sniffing the air, and was therefore keeping a constant watch
on all sides, hoping that we might come upon game, but little expecting
it, when suddenly I caught sight of a large bull moose standing in the
middle of the opening. He was about 300 yards away, and almost directly
down wind. I do not see how he could have failed to get our scent, and
he must have been indifferent to us rather than alarmed.

My first thought was of Stereke. I knew that he would break at the sight
of game, and realized for the hundredth time my mistake in bringing a
bear dog into the moose range. Quickly giving him to the native to hold,
I dropped my pack and was instantly working my way toward the moose. I
had got to within rather less than 200 yards when I saw the moose turn
his head and look in my direction. A nearer approach was impossible, so
I gave him at once two shots, and at the second he fell.

My dog, having bitten himself