Cale shouted to him. He ordered the Indian to cut poles and prepare for butchering the dead bull. Tad asked if he might do it, to which request the guide gave a willing assent. This was somewhat different from butchering a bear weighing only a few hundred pounds. A three-quarter-ton moose was not an easy proposition to butcher. Tad tugged and perspired, and in the end was forced to ask for assistance in getting the animal off the ground. Cale smiled.
"I thought you would be calling for help pretty soon," he said. "No one man could handle that carcass alone. Here, Charlie, get hold of the hind legs and help drag the fellow over between those two trees, then dig a hole so we can bury everything that would show what we have done. We don't want anybody to know about this, now that it is done."
It took Tad nearly an hour and a half to complete his job, and when he had finished he was ready for another bath in the lake, which he took, at the same time washing his clothes and dancing up and down the beach while they were drying out in the sun. Tad said one moose was enough for him. If he ever had to dress another he wouldn't dress it.
During all this time Chunky Brown was strolling up and down with chest thrown out, his hands in his trousers pockets. His achievement was the talk of the camp. The boys were greatly excited, more or less envious of what Stacy had accomplished.
Tad, after he had donned his clothes, returned to the scene of the conflict. He examined the ground, then turned his attention to the tree. The boy devoted some moments to a certain spot on the tree where the bark had been broken by the blow from the moose's head. Tad grinned, but he said nothing to his companions upon his return to camp. It was too good to tell. He did not know how much Cale knew or suspected, but he realized that the guide did not quite believe all that Stacy had told them about the battle.
"Now tell us about that fight with the moose again?" urged Tad.
Chunky was willing.
"Well, it was this way," he began, leaning against a tree, the others being seated about the fire.
"You mean it was that way," suggested Rector.
"I mean what I said. If you know more about it than I do, suppose you tell the story. I went out there because I heard something—no, I guess I didn't hear anything at the start. However, I went out there."