At the roar of the rifle she cried out in excitement. The old bull had traversed the marches for the last time: he had fought the last fight with his fellow bulls in the rutting season. He rocked down easily, and Bill's racing fingers ejected the shell and threw another into the barrel, ready to fire again if need be. But no second bullet was required. The man's aim had been straight and true, and the bullet had pierced his heart. The two of them danced and shouted in the snow. And Virginia did not stop to think that the stress of the moment had swept her back a thousand--thousand years, and that her joy was simply the rapture of the cave woman, mad with blood lust, beside her mate. X The shoulder of a bull moose was never a load for a weak back. The piece of meat weighed nearly one hundred pounds and was of awkward shape to carry. Bill, secure in his strength, would never have attempted it except for the fact that after one small ridge was climbed, the way was downhill clear to the cabin. He skinned out the quarter with great care; then, stooping, worked it on his back. Virginia took his gun and led the way back over their snow trail. By resting often, they soon made the hilltop. From thence on they dragged the meat in the immaculate snow. Twilight had fallen again when they made the cabin. Already Virginia thought of it as home. She returned to it with a thrill in her veins and a joy in her heart. She was tired out and cold; this humble log hut meant shelter from the storm and warmth and food. Bill hung the meat; then with his knife cut off thick steaks for their supper. In a few moments their fire was cracking. Bill showed her how to broil the steak in its own fat, and he cooked hot biscuits and macaroni to go with it. No meal of her life had ever given her greater pleasure. They made their plans for the morrow; first to construct a crude sled and then to bring in the remainder of the meat. "If the wolves don't claim it to-night," Bill added, as he lighted his pipe. "It's strange that I don't want to smoke myself," the girl told him. "You? Why should you?" "I smoke at home. I mean I did. It's getting to be the thing to do among the girls I know. Someway, the thought of it doesn't seem interesting any more." "Did you--really enjoy it then? If you did, I'll split my store with you. You've got as much right to it as I." The man spoke rather heavily. "I didn't think I did enjoy it. I did it--I suppose because it seemed sporting. It never made me feel peaceful--only nervous. I don't believe tobacco is a temperamental need with women as it is with some men--otherwise it wouldn't have taken so many centuries to establish the custom. It would only--seem silly, up here."