g hoofs.
His eyes were full of green fire; his nostrils twitched; the black
tassel or "bell" hanging from his shaggy throat shook with every angry
movement; his muffle, the big overhanging upper lip, was spotted with
foam.

As he gulped, grunted, snorted, and roared, his uncouth, guttural noises
made him seem more than ever like a curious creature of earth's earliest
ages.

"We came pretty near to being goners, Dol, I tell you!" carolled Cyrus
again from his high perch in the hemlock, carrying on a by-play with the
enemy between each sentence. "How in the name of wonder did you manage
such a call? It would have moved the heart-strings of any moose. I was
lying flat, you know, peeping through a little gap in the bushes, and
you had scarcely taken the horn from your mouth when I saw the old
fellow come stamping out of the woods. My! wasn't he a sight? He stood
for a minute looking about for the fancied cow; then he bellowed, and
started towards the knoll. I knew we had better run for our lives. As
soon as he saw us he gave chase."

"And 'the fancied cow' should go tumbling down the knoll like a rolling
jackass, and smash that grand horn to bits!" lamented Dol, who now sat
serenely on his bough, with a firm clasp of the hemlock trunk, and a
reckless enjoyment of the situation which far surpassed his companion's.

Cyrus began to have an occasional twinge of uneasiness about the
possible length of the siege, after his first exuberance subsided; but
the younger boy, his short terror overcome, had no misgivings. He
coquetted with the moose through a thick screen of foliage, shook the
branches at him, gibed and taunted him, enjoying the extra fury he
aroused.

But suddenly the old bull, having kept up his wild movements for nearly
an hour, resolved on a change of tactics. He stood stock-still and
lowered his head.

"Goodness! He has made up his mind to 'stick us out!'" gasped Cyrus.

"What's that?" said Dol.

"Don't you see? He's going to lay siege in good earnest--wait till we're
forced to come down. Here's a state of things! We can't roost in these
trees all night."

The hemlocks were throwing ever-lengthening shadows on the grass. A slow
eclipse was stealing over everything. The motionless moose became an
uncouth black shape. Garst muttered uneasily. His fingers tingled for
his rifle--a very unusual thing with him. His eyes peered through the
creeping darkness in puzzled search for some suggestion, some
possibil