"It was ten years ago coming winter when I had a camp near the mouth of the river below here. Some of you saw what's left of it when you came over the Parmachene trail yesterday. I was all alone that fall, except for an occasional hunter or so going up the trail, and for some reason deer was scarce. Well, I was hugging the fire one cold evening early in November, when I heard a loud crash outside the camp. Now that meant one of two things: either a windfall had taken place, or some large game was floundering through the bog near at hand. Seizing my rifle, I slipped out of the cabin. "I looked in the direction from which the crash had come, but I could see nothing. Softly launching my canoe, I placed the rifle in the bottom of it, to be handy, you know, and started to paddle up the stream a little way. I had probably gone about fifty feet when a branch snapped, and then came a tremendous crash. The sound was close at hand, and I gave a quick look in the direction whence it came. The night was too black to see much, but I made out the huge stump of a tree that I had often thrashed for trout from. Immediately back of this stump lay a tangle of dead trees. I had stopped paddling, and the current of the stream was slowly drifting the canoe towards it, and, with my rifle ready, I waited for a sight of the game. Judging from the noise of the last crash, I knew it must be near the stump. "Most of you boys can appreciate what my feelings were at the moment, for I felt pretty sure of big game and a good stock of meat. It took but a few seconds to drift around to the lee of that stump, and I quickly brought up with a thump against some of the dead wood in the bog. What I saw gave me a start, for there in the deep shadow stood the largest bull moose it has ever been my fortune to run across. "Well, I'm an old hunter, guide, or whatever you want to call me, and have tracked deer from boyhood, also bear, moose, and caribou; but, boys, when I saw that magnificent bull glaring at me I grew feverish with excitement, and for a few minutes I simply stared back at him. I guess we were not more than twenty feet apart, and as far as I could tell through the steam rising from him, he was caught in the bog some way, and was fighting mad. "I had been at close quarters with moose before, but never saw such dangerous-looking eyes. Raising my gun, I aimed as well as I could just back of his fore-shoulder. I felt shaky, though, and the sights went bobbing up and down like a cork float. I tried hard to get her steady, and when I had her fairly so I fired.