“And we promised ourselves we wouldn’t shoot a cow moose even if we had to go without such big game, didn’t we, Phil?”
“That’s where I have the bulge on you, Ethan,” laughed the other.
“As how?” demanded the eager hunter; “you sure subscribed to that rule with the rest of us, Phil.”
“Yes, but only so far as my gun went,” he was told; “I can shoot that cow with my camera, and never injure a hair of her hide, you see.”
At that Ethan shrugged his shoulders, and made a grimace.
“Yes, that’s a fact, you have got the jump on us, Phil. But I suppose, then, we can keep on the move, and take our chance of catching up with the cow, so as to let you get in a snap-shot of the same?”
“We’ll keep going up, to a certain limit,” figured Phil; “I wouldn’t care to tramp beyond that. We’d want to be able to make the home camp by night, you know.”
“As for that,” said Ethan, indifferently, “what should we worry about even if we had to stay out a night? Fact is, I’d rather enjoy the experience in your company. So don’t count me in when you’re figuring things, Phil. I c’n take pot-luck any old time.”
As on the previous day Phil could readily tell that they were gaining on the animal they followed. He had shown Ethan where the moose spent the previous night and it seemed as though the animal could not have been very greatly alarmed by seeing the young hunter, for it had not gone more than two miles after that before stopping to browse upon some tender branches of a certain tree, and stop until another day dawned.
The trail did not always keep on in a direct line, but there was more or less of a zigzag movement about it. From this Phil drew the conclusion that the moose must be scouring the bush in hopes of meeting up with others of its kind, so as to keep company with them for the balance of the long winter.