CHUNKY MEETS A BULL MOOSE
"That was as fine a piece of trailing as ever a mountaineer did,
Master Tad," announced Cale approvingly as they came in sight of the
little lake where the permanent camp was pitched.
"Oh, it is easy to follow a trail so plainly marked as was that,"
answered Butler.
"Not so easy as you would make it out to be. None but an experienced
Woodsman could follow even that trail, let me tell you, young man.
And even on a clear trail there isn't that man living who doesn't get
lost once in a while. When you do get lost, sit down and think it
over. Don't get the willyjigs and go all to pieces."
"I never do," replied Tad. "Still, that isn't saying that I wouldn't
get them up here."
"What are the willyjigs?" asked Stacy.
"Going into a panic; in other words, getting rattled when you realize
that you are lost."
"Is it anything like buck fever when you are trying to shoot at an
animal?" asked Rector.
"About the same thing."
"That's what Ned had when he shot the rope off the bear the other
day," piped Stacy.
"I didn't," expostulated Ned.
"Master Stacy is right at that, I guess," laughed Vaughn. The guide
raised his voice in a signal to the camp. "There is Charlie John," he
said.
The Indian came down to the shore of the lake upon hearing the call.
He made out the party in a moment, though they had halted in the
shadows of the trees to see if he would discover them. Charlie did.
"Indians have sharp eyes," said Tad.
"Yes, even the half-breeds," agreed Cale.
"Hold my gun. I'm going to swim it," announced Tad.
"The water is too cold," objected Cale.
"I don't care."
Tad quickly stripped off his clothes, and Ned decided that he, too,
needed a swim, so he undressed. The two lads plunged into the little
lake, and Ned uttered a yell when his body came in contact with the
almost ice-cold water.
"Swim hard and you will not notice it," chattered Tad.
"I s-s-s-see you don't," answered Ned.
"Race me for the other side. Now, go!" cried Tad.
The boys struck out in swift, powerful strokes. Cale Vaughn's eyes
sparkled as he observed the swimmers.
"I would give a great deal if I could swim like that," he mused.
"Oh, that's nothing. I can beat that swimming with my feet tied,"
answered Stacy. "I'm a natural-born swimmer."
"I should say you were a natural everything, according to your idea
of yourself," grinned the guide.
"Don't make fun of me. I am sensitive about that," replied Chunky
with an injured look on his face.
"Come, we had better be on the move. Those two boys will be wanting
their clothes," answered Cale. They started around the shore of the
lake, finding very good traveling. But the swimmers were ahead of
them. Tad and Ned were running up and down the beach to stir their
circulation, their teeth chattering, their bodies blue with the cold.
"Hurry, hurry!" yelled Tad.
"I'm a human icicle. I'll freeze fast to the shore if you don't
hurry!" chattered Ned.
"Never mind. We can break you loose with an axe," retorted Stacy in
a jeering tone.
By this time the Professor had brought towels, whereat the two boys
began rubbing down, and in a few moments the blue of their flesh
turned to pink. Chunky cast their clothes on the ground.
"You fellows do love to work, don't you?" he grunted.
"All healthy human beings should like to work," answered Tad.
"I smell dinner."
"Dinner!" cried Chunky, starting on a run for the campfire where the
Indian was preparing the noonday meal.
After dinner Stacy went to sleep while his companions were relating
the story of their experiences to the Professor, and the guide was
telling him what a clever woodsman Master Tad was.
Stacy was awakened by the voices of his companions. With a growl of
disgust at being disturbed, he scrambled to his feet and started
sleepily out into the forest, hoping to find a snug place in which to
lie down and finish his nap. The boy was almost asleep as he blindly
made his way from camp, but without attracting the attention of the
others. Getting a little way from camp he leaned heavily against a
tree. One solitary snore escaped his lips. Stacy pulled himself
together, opening his eyes slightly, then closing them again.
Somehow he had a faint idea that he had seen something that was not a
part of the forest, something that had made him start with
disagreeable expectation.
[Illustration: Before Him Stood a Huge Animal]
Being brave, however, Chunky forced himself to open his eyes.
"Wow!" he gasped.
Before him, some five rods away, stood a huge animal, of aspect so
terrifying that young Brown couldn't, for the moment, even guess to
which class of lower animals it belonged. It was huge, this solid
apparition, with a long, beak-shaped nose. From its head branched
upward a pair of enormous antlers with many branches. The ends of
these antlers looked as though they might be as sharp as needles.
When the animal pawed the ground and snorted Stacy shivered again,
yet seemed unable to run.
It was a giant bull moose, a savage enough fellow even when
confronted by an armed, cool and experienced hunter.
Again it snorted, its beak-like jaw lowering toward the ground.
"It's going to nibble at the grass--I must be slipping away," thought
the terrified fat boy. Next he discovered that the animal's gaze
was fastened upon him.
Then, suddenly, the great bulk, its head still lowered, and the
cruel-looking antlers pointed straight at the boy, charged!
"The fellows will never know how scared I died!" gasped the shaking
boy, who was now incapable of motion.
Stacy tried to shut his eyes, but was so fascinated that he couldn't.
He couldn't remove his gaze from those awful antlers!
Then kindly Nature stepped in. Stacy's swift despair reached such a
height of frenzy that he swooned. Sideways he toppled, away from the
tree.
_Bump!_ went the bull moose's lowered head against the tree, with
fearful force and an awesome noise. The impact was so terrific that
the moose, stunned, recoiled, then toppled over just as Stacy had
done.