"Pity you didn't kill your moose," he continued; "what do you think was the matter?"
"I don't know," said Jack. "I had as good a chance as I ever had at a running animal, but I think maybe I wasn't careful enough, and didn't hold low enough. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if I shot high on him. That seems to be my trouble often."
"Well," said Hugh, "you'd like to go to-morrow and see if you could follow him up and find him. Of course he won't be good for anything if you do find him, but you'll have the satisfaction maybe of knowing that you killed him."
"Won't be good for anything," said Jack; "how do you mean? You don't mean he'll spoil, just lying out for one night."
"Why, son, didn't you know that? Is it possible you've travelled with me all these months and haven't learned that unless you dress an animal as soon as it's killed it's going to spoil? It don't make any difference whether the weather's cold or warm, but if you leave a critter with the entrails in for four or five hours it is no good; the meat gets tainted."
"Well," said Jack, "That's news to me. I never heard that before."
"Oh," said Joe, "everybody knows that."
"Yes," said Jack, "everybody but me."
After Jack had put his gun in the lodge, he brought out the coffee pot and frying pan, and ate some food, and then sat there by the fire, very melancholy, because he had not got his moose.
"He had horns, Hugh," Jack said, "and if I should be able to find him to-morrow, I could bring those in, couldn't I?"