ON awaking the next morning, they found that the cabin was almost covered with snow, and the woods were filled with drifts, that rendered it impossible for them to resume their hunting. The two days that followed were passed in-doors, curing the skins of the animals they had taken, and listening to the trapper’s stories.
 
On the third day, a heavy thaw¹ set in, and at night the wind changed around to the north, and covered the snow with a crust that would easily bear a man. Early the next morning the hunters set out. George and Frank accompanied the trapper, to assist in breaking up a moose-pen, which the latter had discovered a few days previous to the storm, and Archie and Harry² determined³ to again attempt the capture of the black fox.
 
The trapper led his young companions through the woods, and across the pond where George had met with his accident. About a mile further on, he came to a halt, and said, almost in a whisper:
 
“Now, youngsters, we are a’most to the moose-pen. You stay here, George; an’ remember, don’t go to movin’ up on the game till you hear me shoot.”
 
“I don’t see any moose,” said George.
 
“In course you don’t,” said the trapper. “But they are in the woods here, an’ me and Frank will go an’ surround them. It’ll take mighty⁴ keerful steppin’, though,” he continued, turning to Frank, “for moose have got an ear like an Injun’s. Be keerful now how you walk.” So saying, the trapper shouldered his heavy rifle, and moved off through the woods, accompanied by Frank. About half a mile further on, the latter was stationed on the banks of a deep ravine; and Dick, after repeating his instructions, continued on alone.
 
The stalwart form of the trapper had scarcely disappeared, when Frank heard a noise in the bushes, and presently a large moose appeared, leisurely⁵ wading⁶ through the deep snow, and cropping the branches as he approached. As if by instinct, Frank’s gun was leveled; but remembering the trapper’s instructions, the weapon was lowered, and the young hunter stepped back into the bushes, and watched the motions of the animal. He was a noble fellow—very much like the one with which Frank had engaged in that desperate struggle in the woods—with antlers fully⁷ four feet in length. The animal appeared totally unconscious of danger, and, after browsing⁸ about among the bushes for a few moments, walked back into the woods again, but almost instantly reappeared, and made for the ravine at the top of his speed. At this moment, the well-known report of the trapper’s rifle echoed through the woods. It was followed by a crashing in the crust, and presently another moose appeared, and, like the former, ran toward the ravine. A short distance behind him came the trapper, holding his rifle in one hand and his huge hunting-knife in the other, and rapidly gaining on the deer, which sank through the crust into the deep snow at every step. Frank and Brave immediately joined in the pursuit, and the moose had not run far before he was overtaken and seized by the dog. Frank, remembering his first experience in moose-hunting, halted at a safe distance, and was about to “make sure work” of the game, when the trapper darted⁹ past him, exclaiming:
 
“Don’t shoot, youngster. That’s a young moose; an’ if you can ketch him, he’ll be worth more nor all the stuffed critters you’ve got at home.”
 
Here was an opportunity which, to Frank, was too good to be lost. Hastily dropping his gun, and producing a piece of rope from the pocket of his overcoat, he ran up to the game, and, after a brief struggle, succeeded in fastening it around his neck. The dog was then ordered to let go his hold, when the moose instantly sprang to his feet and started to run. Frank was thrown flat in the snow, but he clung to the rope with all his strength. After a short time the young moose, wearied with his useless efforts to escape, ceased his struggles, and his captors led, or rather pulled, him along through the woods toward the place where the game had first been started.
 
 
“Now,” said the trapper, “you’ve got a pet that is worth something. He’s jest the thing you want. You won’t have to drag your sleds home now.”
 
“Why not?” inquired Frank.
 
“Cause this yere moose can pull you four fellers further in one day than you can travel in two. I knowed a trader at Fort Laramie that had one o’ them critters, and he used to hitch¹⁰ him up to a sled, an’ think nothin’ o’ travelin’ sixty miles a day.”
 
While they were talking, George came up, and, after the hunters had collected their game, Dick led the way toward home, while Frank brought up the rear, leading the young moose.
 
Meanwhile, Archie and Harry were in hot pursuit of the black fox. They found the trail, as before, in the gully, and Sport started off on it, and met with no difficulty until they arrived on the banks of a small stream that ran a short distance from the cabin. Here the trail came to an abrupt¹¹ termination,............