CHAPTER VIII.

OUT FOR BIG GAME.

“Whew! so that’s a moose, is it?” gasped Giraffe, being the first to break the tense silence that had fallen upon the campers.

“What a queer old sound,” almost whispered Bumpus. “My stars! but I guess he’s most as big as our old red barn at home. Is he heading this way, Sebattis, Eli, Jim?”

Bumpus cast a despairing look around him while saying this. Thad had an idea he must be trying to pick out a desirable tree which he could “shinny up” in case the moose raided the camp; for owing to his build Bumpus was not so good at climbing as some others, Giraffe or Davy Jones for instance.

“Just now that’s what the ole duffer, he’s a-doin’,” replied Eli; while the Indian guide only nodded his head, being a man of few words usually.

“Who’s goin’ to tackle him?” demanded Step Hen. “Now, don’t you fellers all look at _me_, just because I said that little rifle of mine was good for any animal that walked these here Maine woods. I gave up first chance to Thad long ago, didn’t I, Thad? You see, a feller that hasn’t had great experience at such things don’t want to rush in too fast. I promised my maw to be careful, and I mean to. As for me, you see, I said that Thad had to try out my new gun. The man in the store told me not to think of standing up before any big game till I’d practiced how to use the pump part. You see, if a feller got rattled, and needed to send in a second shot, he might try to work the thing wrong, get it stuck, and then have a fine old time. So Thad for mine.”

“So say we all of us,” remarked Giraffe. “We’d like to see what Thad could do. He hasn’t never had a chance at a moose. You go with Sebattis, Thad. The rest of us’ll sit by the fire here, and wait for things to happen.”

“No fire,” remarked Sebattis. “Eli put um out. You come ’long with me, Tad!”

Somehow the Indian could never get the hang of Thad’s name, and called him Tad; but it was rather a curiosity to hear him talk at all, so nobody ever objected, least of all the patrol leader.

“This is mighty fine of you boys,” whispered Thad, as he watched Eli and Jim proceeding to scatter the fire, and trample on the embers; in which task the other members of the party only too willingly assisted.

In a minute, almost, they were in darkness under the pines. Meanwhile Sebattis had baited the moose with another of his wonderful calls, thrilling the lads just as much as on the first occasion.

“Ugh! make me shiver,” muttered Bumpus. “Seems like there just must be a great big critter, with horns ten feet high, ready to rush the camp. Hey! don’t get away from me, Jim; I want to squat alongside in the dark. After all that light it seems rough to be left in the gloom.”

“Mustn’t talk no more, or sneeze, or cough! Skeer moose right bad,” whispered the younger guide, as he threw an arm across the fat shoulders of Bumpus, for whom he seemed to have taken an especial fancy.

And so the balance of the campers crouched there, with every nerve on edge, listening eagerly for the slightest sound, which of course was magnified a dozen fold, owing to the tension under which they were laboring.

Meanwhile Thad had followed after the Indian guide.

His very first act, before the light of the fire was extinguished, had been to hastily examine the small-bore repeating rifle which belonged to Step Hen, and which the owner was so anxious to have Thad christen with the first shot, at game worth while.

It seemed to be in splendid working order, and Thad believed he could depend on it to do the work, providing he aimed straight. There is a vast amount of result depending on the man behind the gun, whether in war, or in hunting.

At first it seemed pitch dark to the boy, as he kept close at the heels of the Penobscot Indian. That was partly because his eyes had been blinded from sitting there, looking into the heart of the blazing camp-fire so long. Now that this did not happen to be the case any longer, he found that he could gradually see better; until presently the dim form of Sebattis began to make itself noticeable just in front.

How silently the Indian moved along. Thad wondered whether this came from the fact of his wearing elkskin moccasins, or because he had been raised never to make a noise when passing through the woods; perhaps it was both; but Thad wished he could only emulate his example; and then and there he determined to possess himself of the soft-soled hunting boots of the same type as those of Sebattis, at the first opportunity.

He knew from the confidence with which the guide was advancing through the darkness that he must have immediately settled in his mind just where they should lie in wait for the bull moose.

And it struck Thad right then and there that the dark-faced guide was about as good a pattern for a Boy Scout to follow, as any one whom he could imagine. Surely Sebattis kept his eyes constantly on the alert; and never could be caught napping.

For instance, look at the way he lifted his head to listen some ten minutes before the sheriff arrived upon the scene, and gave the boys that rude jolt when he called out to them to surrender. Sebattis must have heard some slight sound that warned him of the stealthy approach of either human beings or game, and he had crept out of camp so as to be in a position to hold the upper hand, in case of any necessity.

Perhaps it was a little strange how all these thoughts crowded through the mind of Thad, as he was following silently as possible at the very heels of the guide.

Other things trooped through that active brain of his, too; for Thad had schooled himself to see and notice everything he could. For instance, he became aware of the fact that they were heading almost directly up into the wind. That in itself was nothing surprising, for a true still hunter always looks to have the air blowing from the game toward himself, as in that way he prevents the keen-scented animal from getting notice of his approach, and fleeing before he can find a chance to send in a shot.

Yes, the night breeze was coming out of the north, and the moose was approaching from the same quarter. The last time they heard his echoing challenge it seemed much closer than ever, showing that the bull was advancing with little rushes. He would push on for a couple of minutes, and then halt to send out a call, and listen. Then Sebattis would proceed to lure him on with the most seductive calls he could extract from his wonderful birch bark horn.

So it went on, the two parties approaching one another at a speed which promised a meeting very shortly.

Thad felt his heart beating almost twice as fast as ordinarily. He did not like this, and sternly resolved to control his nerves. The party who expects to shoot big game must be able to aim straight, and keep his wits about him, so as to send in a second and a third shot, should they be needed; else he may find that the boot is on the other foot, and that it is he himself who is being hunted.

Fighting down this nervousness as best he could, the boy set his teeth firmly together, and was resolved to do all in his power to justify the confidence his comrades seemed to have in his ability to “do the troop proud,” as Giraffe would have said.

Another thing he noticed by this time. They did not seem to be trying to get to higher ground at all, as he had expected would be the case. On the contrary, Sebattis was following the upward trend of the river. Perhaps he only wanted to move as far away from the camp as possible, so that the suspicious animal might not get a whiff of air that, to him, might bear some sign of the extinguished fire; or detect uneasy movements among the scouts left behind, and who could not keep just as still as they should.

But somehow Thad had an idea there might be yet another reason for their keeping on in this direction, as if meaning to intercept the coming bull moose; and presently he found it out for a fact.

Once, twice, three times had the guide stopped to send out that strange sound that went reverberating down the river, until it died away in mournful cadence in the distance.

Then he came to a sudden stop.

“Here do, Tad; you drop down this way. Keep eye on top ridge up there. See um moose stand out ’gainst sky. Try hit back shoulder. No get, p’raps me shoot too. How that suit?”

That was more than Thad had ever heard Sebattis say in one breath since meeting the Old-town guide. But he instantly saw what the other meant, for Thad had the instincts of a born hunter in him.

From the spot where they knelt, by looking up just a little, they could see the bald top of a low-lying ridge close at hand, where it was outlined sharply against the star jeweled sky. Any bulky object as big as a cow, or even a wolf, would, if standing there on the ridge, be plainly shown against the heavens.

“I understand, Sebattis,” the boy whispered back; “and I’ll try to do you credit. Tell me when to shoot, that’s all.”

Then the two relapsed into silence. The last defiant call of the coming moose was just dying out. It had been fearfully close, and Thad knew that the animal must be less than a quarter of a mile away from them at the time he stood still to give that call.

Sebattis answered it, and Thad began to notice that he no longer sent out that vociferous challenge as before. He believed that the guide must now be imitating the voice of the moose cow, to tempt the other bull on so as to fight for the possession of a mate, which he doubtless lacked.

A few more minutes passed away. Thad imagined he could actually hear his heart pounding away within its prison, so loudly did it throb. He began to fear that after that last challenge the bull had become suspicious, and declined to advance any closer. But apparently the guide did not share in his apprehensions; for he continued to make those lower sounds, as though wheedling the other into coming on, and entering the lists with the bull who already had a mate.

Still there was no answering blast. What could it mean?

Thad was beginning to have a feeling of bitter disappointment and chagrin, when all at once he heard something that gave him an electric shock.

It was like the crackling of branches, or the breaking of dead bushes under the impact of a ponderous body. Thad knew now that the guide had not been mistaken with regard to his ability to coax the suspicious old bull to close quarters; for the moose was even then climbing the other side of the low ridge, and must appear in sight on the summit at any moment!