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While we were on our travels we'd sleep with a blanket round us, under any shelter we could rig up, a few spruce-boughs or a bark hut. When the snow came, we were forced to shorten our trips, so as to reach one of the home-camps each night. "Well, it was early in the season, one fine fall evening, that I was crossing Togue Ponds in a canoe.
But I hoped that in the lonely woods where we trapped he wouldn't get a chance to see the stuff. He did, though, and when I wasn't there to make a fight against his swallowing it. "It happened that one week he got back to our camp on Togue Ponds, where most of our stuff was stored, and where I kept that moose-head, waiting for a chance to take it down to Greenville, a day or two sooner'n me.
"It is five years now, boys, since I spent a fall and winter trapping in them woods we were speaking of I and another fellow. We had two home-camps, which were our headquarters, snug log shelters, one on Togue Ponds, the other on the side of Katahdin.
"I killed the biggest bull-moose I ever saw, on Togue Ponds, in that region," said the guide meditatively; "and I got him in a queer way. I b'lieve I promised to tell you that yarn." "Of course you did!" "Let's have it!" "Go ahead, Herb! Don't shorten it!" Thus encouraged by the eager three, the woodsman began:
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