d they
hardly knew which way to turn. We can take them alive."

"But, Eddie," I began, "what will you do with them? They'll have to be
fed if we keep them, and will probably want to occupy the tents, and
we'll have to take them in the canoes when we move."

He was ready for this objection.

"I've been thinking," he said with decision. "Dell and Charlie can take
one of the canoes, with the calves in it, and make straight for Milford
by the shortest cut. While they're gone we'll be exploring the upper
lake."

This was a brief, definite plan, but it did not appeal to me. In the
first place, I did not wish to capture those little mooses. Then, too, I
foresaw that during the considerable period which must elapse before the
guides returned, somebody would have to cook and wash dishes and perform
other menial camp labor. I suspected Eddie might get tired of doing
guide work as a daily occupation. Also, I was sorry for Charlie and Del.
I had a mental picture of them paddling for dear life up the Liverpool
River with two calf mooses galloping up and down the canoe, bleating
wildly, pausing now and then to lap the faces of the friendly guides and
perhaps to bite off an ear or some other handy feature. Even the wild
animals would form along the river bank to view a spectacle like that,
and I imagined the arrival at the hotel would be something particularly
showy. I mentioned these things and I saw that for once the guides were
with me. They did not warm to the idea of that trip up the Liverpool and
the gaudy homecoming. Eddie was only for a moment checked.

"Well, then," he said, "we'll kill and skin them. We can carry the
skins."

This was no better. I did not want those little mooses slaughtered, and
said so. But Eddie was roused now, and withered me with judicial
severity.

"Look here," he said, and his spectacles glared fiercely. "I'm here as a
representative of the British Museum, in the cause of science, not to
discuss the protection of dumb creatures. That's another society."

I submitted then, of course. I always do when Eddie asserts his official
capacity like that. The authority of the British Museum is not to be
lightly tampered with. So far as I knew he could have me jailed for
contempt. We shoved our canoes in shore and disembarked. Eddie turned
back.

"We must take something to tie their hind legs," he said, and fished out
a strap for that purpose. The hope came to me that perhaps, after all,
he might not