* * * *

It was characteristic of Wade that this soliloquy abruptly ended his
thoughtful considerations for the time being. This was owing to the fact
that he rested upon a decision, and also because it was time he began to
attend to the object of his climb.

Bench after bench he had ascended, and the higher he got the denser and
more numerous became the aspen thickets and the more luxuriant the
grass. Presently the long black slope of spruce confronted him, with its
edge like a dark wall. He entered the fragrant forest, where not a twig
stirred nor a sound pervaded the silence. Upon the soft, matted earth
the hoofs of the horses made no impression and scarcely a
perceptible thud.

Wade headed to the left, avoiding rough, rocky defiles of weathered
cliff and wind-fallen trees, and aimed to find easy going up to the
summit of the mountain bluff far above. This was new forest to him,
consisting of moderate-sized spruce-trees growing so closely together
that he had to go carefully to keep from snapping dead twigs. Fox
trotted on in the lead, now and then pausing to look up at his master,
as if for instructions.

A brightening of the dark-green gloom ahead showed the hunter that he
was approaching a large glade or open patch, where the sunlight fell
strongly. It turned out to be a swale, or swampy place, some few acres
in extent, and directly at the foot of a last steep, wooded slope. Here
Fox put his nose into the air and halted.

"What're you scentin', Fox, old boy?" asked Wade, with low voice, as he
peered ahead. The wind was in the wrong direction for him to approach
close to game without being detected. Fox wagged his stumpy tail and
looked up with knowing eyes. Wade proceeded cautiously. The swamp was a
rank growth of long, weedy grasses and ferns, with here and there a
green-mossed bog half hidden and a number of dwarf oak-trees. Wade's
horse sank up to his knees in the mire. On the other side showed fresh
tracks along the wet margin of the swale.

"It's elk, all right," said Wade, as he dismounted. "Heard us comin'.
Now, Fox, stick your nose in that track. An' go slow."

With rifle ready Wade began the ascent of the slope on foot, leading his
horse. An old elk trail showed a fresh track. Fox accommodated his pace
to that of the toiling hunter. The ascent was steep and led up through
dense forest. At intervals, when Wade halted to catch his breath and
listen, he heard faint snapping of dead