By simple processes he drew from Gregory his
aims and ambitions, and found the real courage and power behind the front
of irony--the language of manhood and culture which was crusted by free
and easy idioms. Now and then they saw moose-tracks, but they were some
days out before they came to a moose-yard--a spot hoof-beaten by the
moose; his home, from which he strays, and to which he returns at times
like a repentant prodigal. Now the sport began. The dog-trains were put
out of view, and Big Moccasin and another Indian went off immediately to
explore the country round about. A few hours, and word was brought that
there was a small herd feeding not far away. Together they crept
stealthily within range of the cattle. Gregory Thorne's blood leaped as
he saw the noble quarry, with their wide-spread horns, sniffing the air,
in which they had detected something unusual. Their leader, a colossal
beast, stamped with his forefoot, and threw back his head with a snort.
"The first shot belongs to you, Mr. Thorne," said Malbrouck. "In the
shoulder, you know. You have him in good line.
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