ds--a bull moose!

CHAPTER XII

WHEN TWO PLAYED THE GAME

The moose looked at Phil, and Phil stared at the moose. Both of them
seemed to be equally surprised at the unexpected meeting.

Apparently Phil was the first to recover, for the sharp little "click"
of his camera shutter acting, after he had quickly drawn a head on the
bulky animal, told that he was true to his instinct as a Nature
photographer.

It may be that even that little snapping sound angered the moose; or
possibly he was just in a mood for trouble. The rutting season was well
over by this time of year, and his horns had grown fairly stout, so that
they could be trusted to do good service in battle.

Phil never knew. In fact he had no opportunity to make inquiries, or
conduct any sort of an investigation. All he became aware of suddenly
was that the bull moose had lowered his head, and started toward him at
a full gallop.

Now Phil may at times have been called a bold sort of a boy, but he also
had a pretty well defined streak of caution in his make-up. Those
towering horns had an ugly look to him. He could easily imagine how
inconvenient it would seem to feel them brought into personal contact
with some part of his body, with all that muscular power of the big
animal butting them on.

There was only one thing left for Phil to do, and that was to make
himself scarce around that neighborhood as quickly as possible.

Although the boy had never in all his life witnessed such a thing as a
genuine bull fight, he understood that the first thing to be done was to
dodge. The moose was so close to him that he knew he had very little
chance of outstripping those long legs in fair flight.

With this partly formed plan in his head Phil ducked to the left, and
started to run. He could have no real motive in choosing this side,
because there was no time to take even a quick observation, and form a
plan of action.

As it turned out luck favored him in making this hasty choice on the
spur of the moment. Had he turned to the right he would have been
compelled to cover such an extensive strip of open ground that his
fleet-footed enemy must have easily overtaken him. That would have
forced Phil to make another side movement, or else be caught up in
those branching horns.

He knew what this latter must mean, and that once he found himself
knocked down and rendered helpless, he would be rolled along, prodded
wickedly, and even jumped upon in the endeav