e, with a low exclamation of warning, suddenly sank to his
knees, at the same time pointing to something under the tree that his
sharp eyes at that moment caught.

Coming up to him, the others imitated his attitude, and peered in the
direction indicated, until presently they also made out a great dark
mass, half-obscured by the tree-trunks, but manifestly not motionless.

'We come up to heem behind,' said Wikonaie, in a dramatic whisper, 'not
in front, but on de side. You follow me!'

With the infinite care of the experienced hunter, Wikonaie made his way
in a sort of semi-circle which, at the end, brought him within firing
distance of the moose, and almost straight behind him. As the wind
blew straight from the moose towards the hunters, things seemed very
much in their favour.

'Ah, now, we must be ver' careful, ver' careful, not make no noise,'
whispered Wikonaie to his companions, who nodded eager assent. Yard by
yard they crept upon their unconscious prey. The giant creature had
struck a small bunch of particularly young and juicy trees, and he was
enjoying them to his heart's content.

When Wikonaie deemed they were sufficiently near, he gave the signal
for them to be ready to fire. The next moment the woods rang out with
a strange wild shout, which would have startled anything in the way of
man or beast: and the moose, thus rudely interrupted in his rich
repast, flung up his head with a snort, partly of fear and partly of
defiance.

This was the moment for which Wikonaie was waiting. 'Now fire!' he
cried, drawing the trigger of his own gun as he spoke.

Almost as one, the three reports startled the echoes of the woods, and
the moose, suddenly wheeling round, the incarnation of fury and of
fright, was met by the two dogs, Dour and Dandy, who sprang gallantly
at him, barking and leaping for his great nose. Bewildered by this
novel attack, he thought flight the best thing, and sped off into the
woods at an amazing pace. Indeed, he went so fast that Hector, who had
fully expected to see the great creature drop instantly, began to fear
lest he might not be mortally wounded after all, and they should lose
him in the woods. Wikonaie's countenance showed no such anxiety. True
the moose had disappeared with the dogs at his heels, but he left on
the spotless snow the sure sign of a stricken animal--great splashes of
red, which told that he could not go very far.

'We follow heem now, eh?' cried Wikonaie,