“That’s hard to say,” Bob replied shaking his head. “But they’re mighty persistent critters once they get their mind fixed on an idea, and this boy seems to have his fixed pretty firmly on us just at present.” “Well, I hope he gets another idea pretty soon so we can be on our way,” Jack said as he shifted to a more comfortable position. “Great Scott, Jack, I forgot all about Rex for the minute,” Bob cried in alarm. “We can’t stay here. Think what it may mean to Rex. An hour sooner or later may make all the difference.” “Spoken like a general,” Jack declared. “But our friend below seems to be master of ceremonies just now.” “Don’t you think we’d be justified in shooting him?” Bob asked. “Have you got the Winchester?” “Sure. It was tied to my pack.” “Then I believe I’d do it. It looks to me as though he’d bleed to death in time anyhow, and we certainly ought to be on our way as you said.” “I hate to do it, but I honestly think it’s the only way out,” Bob said slowly as he reached for the rifle. “He’s apt to keep us here for hours.” As he cocked the rifle the moose turned slightly and exposed his left side. Bob took careful aim at a spot just back of the fore leg and pulled the trigger. For a second the moose stood as if surprised, then slowly he began to totter and, with a low moan, sank to the ground. “Right through the heart,” Jack cried. “He never knew what hit him.” “I feel almost like a murderer,” Bob declared as he lowered himself to the snow. “I certainly do hate to shoot anything.” “Well, I do too for that matter, but it couldn’t be helped. In this case there’s no good in feeling bad about it,” Jack assured him as he began to fasten on his snow-shoes. Again the going was heavy and their progress slow. Still they expected it and so took it philosophically. After they had been trudging about an hour they suddenly came to a large lake. “This must be Churchill Lake,” Bob declared as he stopped and took out his map. “See. We must be right here and if so then we’ve kept a mighty straight course.” “Funny the ice hasn’t gone yet,” Jack said as he looked out over the frozen surface. “Not so strange,” Bob assured him. “The ice goes out of some of these lakes much earlier than others, and I guess this must be one of the late ones.” “Think it’ll be safe to cross it?” Jack asked. “Not on your life,” Bob answered quickly. “That ice must be pretty rotten by now and, anyhow, we wouldn’t gain much as our way is nearly straight up past it.” “About how long is it?” Jack asked. “I don’t know,” Bob replied. “But from the map I should say that it was ten or fifteen miles. These maps are not much good when it comes to estimating distance.” “Well, I guess we go up the left side don’t we?” Jack asked. “I should say so,” Bob replied studying the map. “If this map gives the right shape of the lake it would be quite a lot out of our way to go around that point on the right side.”