Presently a fine large jumping deer came within two rods of me, and stood giving a long startled look around. I was strongly tempted to fire at the handsome creature, but refrained for fear of disturbing our larger game. Then the deer trotted on into the thicket, and I continued to wait. By and by Samson came back, and bidding me follow him, once more we took up the track. We strode along for perhaps an hour, when Samson remarked, "There, we will not follow the track any longer. He is resting, and I think he is in the centre of that clump of trees" (pointing to a dense body of timber not far from us). "See, his track passes straight on to the windward of that spot, and he will make a circle and come back close to his own track. I think he is there now. Let us go with the wind from here, and come around and meet his track." This we accordingly did, and sure enough, as we came in on our circle, which was opposite to that of the moose, we presently met his track. The canny fellow was outwitted and we had but to follow him to his lair, which we proceeded to do with great caution. As we approached the clump of trees close to the westward fringe of which his outgoing track passed, we were moving on tiptoe, I stepping very carefully in Samson's steps as he bent and wriggled around and through amongst the twigs and brush. Soon we came to where he had first lain down. Here was his bed. Samson looked troubled for a moment, and whispered, "He may have fled." Then he looked and said, "No, he is only moving his bed," and with renewed caution we moved on slowly and carefully. Presently we heard him cough as if a leaf had stuck in his throat. The brush was very close, and now we could hear him breathe, and Samson signed for me to step ahead and shoot him. But I considered that we had been out nearly all day, and as we wanted the meat badly, I did not want to take any chances on myself. So I signed back, "You shoot him." Samson thereupon stepped ahead and fired, and I jumped beside him. We heard the crash of the huge animal making from us, and sprang forward in his track; but to our surprise there was no blood to be seen. On we ran until we came to where I had sat and waited so long and patiently. Samson saw that the moose had passed within three yards of this place, and as there was still no sign of blood on his track we were forced to the conclusion that there could not have been a ball in Samson's gun. This might occur but once in a lifetime, yet it was the only way of explaining the case in hand. He could not miss him, the moose was so close and offered so large a target.