Outing . a soundsuch as made by any large animal whenstartled, put the finishing touches on mynerves, and—drove me up a tree. Themoose had withdrawn into the brush for afew steps and was standing there quietly,and as I was stealing away was doubtlessas startled as I when he found me so nearat hand. So close was the animal, soterrifying his start, so addicted had I be-come to climbing trees, that this ascentwas almost a matter of reflex action. Butthis was the straw that broke the camelsback, or, to be more exact, this was theclimb that nearly broke mine. To bedriven up four trees in one mornin
Outing . a soundsuch as made by any large animal whenstartled, put the finishing touches on mynerves, and—drove me up a tree. Themoose had withdrawn into the brush for afew steps and was standing there quietly,and as I was stealing away was doubtlessas startled as I when he found me so nearat hand. So close was the animal, soterrifying his start, so addicted had I be-come to climbing trees, that this ascentwas almost a matter of reflex action. Butthis was the straw that broke the camelsback, or, to be more exact, this was theclimb that nearly broke mine. To bedriven up four trees in one morning was nolonger funny. In sheer exasperation, Islid down, turned my back on the moose,and walked rapidly away, frequently turn-ing to make sure that the moose was notcoming, but at no time condescending torun. From this time geological work was asubordinate matte;. My sole concern wasto make camp, listen for crackling brush,and to judge the distance between goodtrees (good trees had a new significance).. »W\j -the sudden sharp thud of heavy hoofsbeside me. Little Outdoor Stories 3°3 It now took no great stretch of imaginationto hear animals on all sides. But as before,the feeling of apprehension at length woreoff. I had come out into a brulee, when oncemore there seemed to be a noise in thebrush, and listening, there came clear anddistinct the snapping of brush, evidentlyby some animal of considerable size. Itwas all up now, there being no trees withinfifty yards or more. In a fright I walkedrapidly forward, whistling and singing inan attempt to make myself like severalmen, when from the brush in front of mecame a loud hello. I had met ourpackers moving camp. OLD SOLDIER YARNSREQUIRING DISCIPLINE BY LLOYD BUCHANAN \Y/AS I ivvir coort martialed av late?v Sergeant Sullivan repeated, in-dade and I was, sorr—wanct. And foundguilty at thot. His eyes twinkled at athought unspoken. But ut might hovbeen considherable wor-rse, he addedslowly, thrusting the black bowl of his pipeint
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