meeting them suddenly, clawed up into a tree with a snarl and glared down upon them with round, moon-like, savage eyes, itching to drop upon the neck of the smaller calf, but well aware of the doom which would follow such rashness.
By sunset the travellers had put leagues of difficult country between themselves and the dreaded lumbermen. The wise old bull was not content, however, for he knew that the trail behind them was plain as a beaten highway. But he judged it time for a halt. While the shadows crept long and level and violet-black across the snowy glades, and the westward sides of the tree-tops were stained red-gold with the wash of the flaming sky, the travellers browsed hungrily on the fragrant twigs of the young birch and poplar trees and the sweet buds of the striped-maple saplings. Then in the fast-gathering dusk they all lay down to rest and ruminate for an hour or two, under the branches of a wide-spreading hemlock. A morose old porcupine, hunched up in a crotch above their heads, squeaked crossly and grated his long yellow teeth at this intrusion upon his solitude. But they had no quarrel with the porcupine, and only the two inquisitive calves took the trouble to glance up at the source of the strange noises.
Two or three hours later, when the moon rose, the forest became all black and silver and ethereal blue; and under the spectral gleams and through
