CHAPTER XXIX

A GREAT MOOSE CHASE

All were anxious to learn if the shelter on the island had been disturbed during their absence. When they arrived at the spot they found everything as they had left it, much to their satisfaction.

“I’m going to take it easy for a day,” said Joe. “I think we all deserve a rest.”

“Second the commotion,” said Fred, and so they rested.

“I’ve got to go home,” said Teddy. “I’m sorry to leave you all, but it can’t be helped.” And he left them that noon, all hands giving him a rousing cheer as he departed. He carried with him four rabbits taken from the traps and also a very fat turkey which Joel Runnell managed to lay low for him.

The boys all felt that their hunting tour must soon come to an end, and having rested, they resolved to make the most of the time that still remained to them.

“We may never get another chance to go out like this,” said Harry. “One thing I’d like to bring down before we leave. That is a moose.”

“I guess a moose would suit all of us,” cried Link. “But I don’t think we are going to get any. Moose are mighty scarce around here.”

“Link is right,” put in Joel Runnell. “But for all that we may spot one before we go.”

“Oh, have you seen any signs of a moose?” ejaculated Harry.

“I’ve seen some signs that may have been made by a moose, although a big deer would leave the same marks.”

The shelter was now a very cozy place, for all of the boys spent their leisure time in fixing it up. They had long ago named it Two-Tree Lodge, and Fred had cut out a sign with his jackknife and this was hung over the doorway.

“If folks only knew what a fine camping-out spot this island is, I dare say there would be many more people here,” declared Bart.

It must not be imagined that Joe and Harry had forgotten about Hiram Skeetles’ missing pocketbook, that which contained the papers of so much value.

“We must hunt for those papers, Joe,” said Harry, and they went out not once but several times. But, although they hunted high and low, among the bushes, rocks, and in the snow, the pocketbook and the valuable papers failed to come to light. The most they found was the real estate dealer’s business card, which Joe picked up late one afternoon.

“Hullo! I’ve found old Skeetles’ card,” he sang out, and Harry rushed to his side to look it over.

“Anything else, Joe?”

“No. But this card shows that we are on the right track.”

“That is true.”

After the card was found they hunted around until long after dark, but nothing else was discovered, much to their disappointment.

“Perhaps the pocketbook was washed into the lake after all,” said Fred, who was very much interested, and who had hunted some on his own account. “If you’ll remember, we had some pretty hard rains before winter set in.”

One day all of the boys went gunning deep into the woods back of the shelter. They went on their snowshoes, and managed to scare up eight rabbits, four squirrels, and seven partridges. It was a beautiful day for such sport, and in addition to bringing down his share of the game, Harry procured several photographs, one showing Joe in the act of bringing down two partridges with one shot.

“That will prove that you are an out-and-out hunter, Joe,” said Harry, after the snap shot was taken. “They can’t go back on a picture.”

“Oh, you must remember, there are lots of trick photos,” said Joe, with a laugh. “Don’t you remember that one we saw of a man shooting at himself?”

“Yes,” put in Link, “and I once saw a picture of a man riding himself in a wheelbarrow. But we can all testify that this is no trick photo.”

Sunday the boys took it easy, and it was a rest well earned and well needed.

“Now for the last of our outing,” sighed Harry. “This week will wind it up.”

“Let us look at the traps,” came from Bart, and he and Link and Fred did so, and found in them two rabbits and a squirrel. There were also signs of a wolf around two of the traps, but they did not catch sight of the beast.

“I fancy that wolf wanted to get one of our rabbits,” said Link. “Perhaps we scared him off just in time.”

“I want nothing to do with wolves,” said Bart. “If they’ll let me alone, I’ll let them alone.”

A couple of days later old Runnell came in somewhat excited. “Unless I am greatly mistaken, I have seen the track of a moose,” he said. “I am going to follow up the tracks. Who wants to go along?”

Who? All of them, and they said so in chorus, while each reached for his gun. Old Runnell made them put on their snowshoes and fill their game bags with provisions.

“We may be gone until to-morrow,” he said. “Running down a moose is no easy thing, even if the snow is deep.”

The route lay along the shore and then across the lake to the mainland. They struck the shore at a point where the pines were heavy, and Joe Runnell showed the young hunters where the moose had stopped to feed.

“He’s after some tender bark,” said the old hunter. “See how he nosed around in the snow for it.”

After a brief rest they continued their journey, but night found the game still out of sight, and they had to go into camp in the best shelter they could find.

“Never mind,” said Harry. “A moose isn’t to be found here every day.”

“No, nor every week, either,” added old Runnell. “So far I haven’t heard of a single one being brought down this winter.”

They were up again before sunrise and following the tracks as before. These now led up a rise of ground and Joel Runnell went in advance.

“The tracks are getting fresher,” he announced. “I don’t think he’s a mile off at the most.”

They went on for a short distance farther, and then Joe put up his hand.

“Hark!” he said, in a low voice. “What sort of a noise is that?”

They listened, and from a distance heard a scraping and sawing that was most unusual.

“We’ve got him!” said old Runnell. “That’s the moose rubbing himself on a tree.”

He crept forward, with the others close behind. Soon they came to a little opening in the forest. Here were several rocks backed up by a clump of hemlocks. Against one of the hemlocks stood a tall, magnificent moose, with wide-spreading antlers. He had been scraping his back on the rough bark, and now he proceeded to repeat the operation.

“You boys can all fire at the same time,” whispered Joel Runnell. “I’ll wait and see what you can do.” And giving them time to take aim, he gave the signal.

The guns rang out together almost as one piece, causing a tremendous report to echo throughout the forest, and filling the little opening with smoke.

“You’ve got him!” shouted Joel Runnell, with as much joy in his voice as if he had brought the game down himself. And when the smoke lifted they saw the moose totter and pitch headlong. Once, twice the animal tried to rise up, then over he went with a thud on the rocks, gave a kick or two, and lay still.

With loud shouts of triumph the young hunters rushed in. But old Runnell held them back.

“Beware,” he cried. “He may give a last kick that will split some one’s head open. Wait!” And they waited until they were certain that life was extinct.

“What a beautiful haul!” came from Bart. “And see, every one of us hit him in the neck and breast.”

“I’m glad we didn’t hit him in the face,” said Joe. “We can mount that head and it will be something fine.”

“Yes, but who is to keep it?” asked Harry.

“We can take turns,” was the answer, and this caused a laugh.

To get such large game back to the camp at Needle Rock was not easy, and it took them until long after nightfall to cover the distance, and then all were thoroughly exhausted. The moose was placed in a safe place, and they retired without taking the trouble to cook a regular supper.