“I can believe that, Moise, after seeing you,” said John.
The happy-go-lucky Moise laughed light-heartedly. “If she’ll don’ hont on this land, she’ll starve sure. A man he’ll mus’ walk, he’ll mus’ hont, he’ll mus’ portage, he’ll mus’ trap, he’ll mus’ walk on the track-line, an’ know how for paddle an’ pole, else he’ll starve sure.”
They walked on down along the narrow beach covered with rough stones, and showing only here and there enough of the sand or earth to hold a track. At length, however, Moise gave a sharp word of caution, and hurriedly motioned them all to get under cover at the bank.
“What is it, Moise?” whispered Rob, eagerly.
“Moose!” He pointed down the bank. For a long time the boys could discover nothing, but at last they caught sight of a little splash of water four or five hundred yards below, where a trickling stream entered the main river at a low place.
“He’ll stood there an’ fight the fly, maybe so,” said Moise. “Ha-hum! Why he’ll don’ see us I don’ know, me. Why the boat he’ll not scare heem I’ll don’ know, me, too. How we’ll get heem I don’ know, me. But we’ll try. Come!”
The boys now found that Moise was once more turned hunter, and rather a relentless and thoughtless one at that, for he seemed to pay no attention to the weakness of other members of his company. They scarcely could keep him in sight as he made his way through the heavy cover to an upper bench, where the forest was more open. Here he pointed to the steep slope which still rose above them.
“We must make surround,” said he, in a whisper.
Not so bad a general was Moise, for, slight as was his chance to approach so wary an animal as a moose under these conditions, he used the only possible plan by which success might have been attained.