Hildegard G. Frey

The last trace of the storm had vanished. The lake lay calm and blue in the morning sunshine, its gentle ripples catching the gleam and turning to gold. The air was clear as crystal and the mainland seemed much nearer than it did under the lowering gray skies of the last few days. Having finished preparations for breakfast, Aunt Clara went down on the beach to watch for the Tribe, who were out practising in the war canoe. They were nowhere in sight. Except for the steamers in the distant harbor of St. Pierre the lake was empty. Aunt Clara adjusted Uncle Teddy’s binoculars to her eyes and coaxed the horizon line some miles nearer to aid her in her search. But the vista was empty of what she sought.

Then she looked around in the other direction at the mainland to the northwest of Ellen’s Isle. As 42 she looked she saw the bushes waving near the shore and then from the tangle of branches there emerged first a pair of antlers, then a head and then a pair of front legs, followed by a dark body, and a large bull moose stood silhouetted against the leafy background. A moment it stood there, calm and deliberate, and then turned and disappeared into the forest.

“Oh, where are the folks?” cried Aunt Clara aloud in her excitement. “What a shame they had to miss it!” She stood a long time looking intently at the spot where the moose had disappeared, but it did not show itself again. As she stood there watching she heard a rhythmic chant coming across the water:

“Strong, brother, strong,
We smoothly glide along,
Our paddles swing as we gaily sing
This merry boating song.”

No one was in sight, and yet the voices came clear and true through the still morning air. It was several minutes before the war canoe came in sight around a high cliff far up the shore. “How far the sound carries across the water!” exclaimed Aunt Clara to herself in amazement.

The Nyoda looked no bigger than a caterpillar, crawling over the water, but she could plainly hear Uncle Teddy’s voice giving commands: “One, two! 43 One, two! Dip! Dip! Longer stroke, Katherine! Left side, cross rest! Right side, paddle! Both sides, ready, dip!”

Now she could see the paddles flashing out on both sides, and the caterpillar became a creature with wings. In she came, straight for the landing, her crew sitting erect as pine saplings, dipping their paddles in unison.

Up flashed the paddles on the cheer, giving the salute; then down again in time for the next stroke.

“Ready! Back paddle! One! Two!”

Down went the paddles, held stiffly against the sides of the canoe to stop her, while the water swished and foamed over the blades; then the strokes were reversed to back her up.

“Cross rest!”

The paddles lay idly across the gunwales and the Nyoda floated in to the landing.

“Disembark!”

The girl behind the bow paddler stepped out on 44 the dock, followed, one by one, by those behind her, while the bow paddler sat still and held the canoe fast to the pier. As the girls and boys stepped out they stood in a row with their paddles resting on the dock before them. When all the rest were out the bow paddler stepped up onto the deck. Uncle Teddy stood at attention, facing the crew.

“Salute!”

“Yea!” Up went the paddles.

“Dismiss!”

Crew practice was over. The crew dove off the sides of the dock like water rats and began to play tag around the war canoe, swimming around it, and under it and diving off the bow, until a far-echoing blast on the horn warned them it was time to come and play another sort of game.

At breakfast Aunt Clara told about seeing the big moose break through the woods on the opposite shore, and immediately there rose a great clamor.

“Oh, Uncle Teddy, can’t we go over there and see if we can see it?” cried Sahwah.

“Can’t we have a big hunting party and kill it and bring home the antlers to hang in the House of the Open Door?” asked the Captain.

“You forget it’s not the hunting season,” replied Uncle Teddy, “and don’t seem to be aware of the fact that there are such things as game laws in this fair country.”

There was a chorus of disappointment from the 45 Winnebagos and Sandwiches, whose imaginations had already gone forward to the great sport of hunting the moose and bringing his antlers home in triumph to hang in the House of the Open Door. Uncle Teddy saw the disappointment and sympathized with the boys and girls, for he was a great hunter himself and enjoyed nothing better than an expedition after game.

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” he said. “We’ll hunt the moose anyhow, but we won’t try to kill him. We’ll just try to get a look at him. They are getting so scarce nowadays in this part of the country that it’s worth a chase just to see one. If he really lives in those woods over there he’ll probably let himself be seen sooner or later. All we have to do is find out where he goes to drink and then watch that place.”

The Winnebagos thought that hunting the moose for a friendly purpose was much nicer than killing him after all, and they were perfectly satisfied with the sport as it was. The boys, of course, would rather have hunted him down and secured his antlers, and thought that just looking at him was rather tame sport, but under the circumstances that was the best they could do.

“I know what we’ll do,” said Migwan. “You remember the story of the Calydonian Hunt in the mythology book? Well, we’ll pretend this is another Calydonian Hunt.”

46“Oh, yes,” said Hinpoha. “They went in a yacht called the Argo, didn’t they, and the hunters called themselves the Argonauts, wasn’t that it?”

“Oh, Hinpoha,” groaned Migwan, “how did you ever manage to get a passing grade in ‘Myth?’”

“The only kind of myths Hinpoha cared about were the ‘Hero and Leander’ kind,” said Sahwah slily. “She knew that one by heart.”

Hinpoha blushed and made awful grimaces at Sahwah.

“I should think that one would appeal to you particularly, Sahwah,” said Migwan; “you’re so fond of swimming.”

Sahwah snorted. “Leander was a fool. It was all right to swim the Hellespont on moonlight nights when the sea was smooth, but if he’d had any brains in his head he’d have rigged up a breeches-buoy for use in stormy weather and gone across in safety and style.”

There was a loud burst of laughter at the picture of the romantic Leander traveling across the Hellespont in a breeches-buoy, and when that had subsided Uncle Teddy remarked, “Well, have you made up your minds what you want to call this expedition in search of the moose? By the way, Mother, are you absolutely sure it was a moose and not a bossy cow you saw?”

Aunt Clara did not deign to answer his teasing.

“The War Canoe would make an awfully good 47 looking ship Argo,” said Migwan thoughtfully. “The original Argo was an open boat and not a yacht, as the scholarly Hinpoha just intimated. We ought to combine the two and have a joint Argonautic Expedition and Calydonian Hunt.”

They all thought this was a fine idea.

“Who will be Jason?” asked the Captain. “Wasn’t he the captain, or the first mate, or the vessel owner, or something, the time they went looking for the golden calf?”

“The Golden Fleece, not the golden calf,” said Migwan quickly, while they all laughed harder than ever at the Captain’s floundering attempt to quote mythology.

“Well, the Golden Fleece, then,” said the Captain. “Who’s going to be Jason?”

“Whoever’s commander of the trip will be Jason,” replied Uncle Teddy.

“Who will that be?” asked Sahwah.

“Whoever’s Chief at the time we go,” replied Uncle Teddy.

“That will be you, because you’re Chief this week,” said Sahwah.

“But Aunt Clara is Chief, too,” protested Katherine.

“Then there will be a Mr. and Mrs. Jason,” said Sahwah promptly. “And all the rest of us will be Argonauts.”

“I protest,” said Uncle Teddy, with a twinkle in 48 his eye. “If there’s a Mrs. Jason on board Jason himself won’t have a word to say about the expedition. He’ll be nothing but a figurehead. He’ll be the original Argo-nought!”

“You forget that the figurehead was the most important part of the ship in the eyes of the Greeks,” said Aunt Clara sweetly.

“If we don’t hurry and get started,” said Mr. Evans sagely, “that moose will be nowhere to be found. If you are going to argue as long over every detail of the hunt as you have about this much of it, the moose will have time to get clear over the Arctic Circle before we ever land on the other shore. I move we call ourselves the Argue-nots and go over this afternoon without delay. This weather is too fine to be wasted on dry land.”

Accordingly, right after dinner, the second great Argonautic Expedition put out to sea. Mrs. Evans, who had a headache, offered to stay at home and keep Sandhelo company and watch the island.

The space under the seats of the Argo II, as she was temporarily re-christened, was stowed full of “supper makin’s,” for they planned to stay until after nightfall.

It was not hard to imagine themselves engaged in one of the romantic quests of olden times, for the great war canoe with her rows of paddlers, speeding through the wide open water, was a sight to set the blood dancing in the veins and thrill the 49 imagination. The forest on the northern shore seemed to spread out wider and wider as they approached it, and grew wilder and more dark looking. To their cityfied eyes the dense growth of underbrush between the trees was the wilderness itself. Somewhere in the back of every man’s brain there slumbers the instinct of the explorer, a legacy from his far off ancestors who boldly set out to discover the unknown places of the earth, and even the modern boy and girl thrill with delight at the prospect of entering some new, wild region.

Landing was extremely difficult because there was no sand beach, and great care had to be exercised that the canoe was not dashed on the rocks and her sides ripped. Both Mr. Evans and Uncle Teddy stepped overboard in water up to their knees and held the boat steady while the rest climbed out onto the rocks. This was an exciting business, for every few seconds a wave would wash up over those rocks, and if the leap was not made just at the right instant, the unwary lander got a pair of wet feet. But that only added to the fun. When all were out the canoe was pulled up and carried back a safe distance and left upside down with the paddles underneath it, so the sun could not shine on them and crack them. Sunshine, which gives life to most things, is absolutely fatal to wet paddle blades.

It was hard walking. The woods were swampy in places and there were very few paths. But almost 50 as soon as they landed they saw signs of the moose. In the soft mud and near the shore were his footprints, and numerous trees bore evidence that he had nibbled their twigs, while there were other marks on the bark which Uncle Teddy explained were made by his striking his antlers against the trunks and branches. Sir Moose himself was nowhere to be seen. His trail led into the woods and they were doing their best to follow. Of course they were making enough noise to scare away a herd of buffalos, but there didn’t seem to be any way to remedy the matter. Hinpoha would shriek when she stepped on a rolling stick, thinking it was a snake, and Katherine was continually tripping over something and sprawling face downward.

“The Argonautic half of the Expedition came up to our expectations,” said Migwan, as they floundered on, “but the Calydonian Hunt seems to be a wild goose chase.”

“Where do mooses stay when they are in the woods?” asked Hinpoha, falling over a root and pausing to rub her ankle.

“On the ground,” said the Captain, trying to be funny.

“How very odd,” said Hinpoha. “I had an idea they climbed up into a tree and built a nest. I may not know much about your old mythology, but I do know a few things about a moose.”

“Maybe you do,” replied the Captain with that 51 maddening twinkle in his eye, “but anybody that calls the plural of ‘moose’ ‘mooses’ couldn’t be expected to know much about them.”

“Oh, well,” said Hinpoha, laughing with the rest, “have it your own way. By the way, what is the plural–meece? Anyway, I wasn’t talking to you in the first place when I asked my question. I was talking to Uncle Teddy, and I’m going to ask him again. Where would you go to look for a moose in the woods?”

“They like shallow water in summer and slow-moving streams,” replied Uncle Teddy. “They wade out and eat the plants growing in the water.”

“I suppose if we see him at all we’ll see him that way,” said Hinpoha. “We’ll probably only get a glimpse of him from a distance.”

“Probably,” agreed Uncle Teddy, “unless—”

“Unless what?” asked Sahwah, pricking up her ears.

Uncle Teddy smiled mysteriously. Then from his pocket he produced something which looked like a trumpet made of birchbark.

“What is it?” they all chorused, crowding around him.

“Wait and see,” he said, still with that mysterious smile.

He did not seem to be going to do anything with the strange thing he held in his hand. He led the way through the trees, patiently holding aside the 52 branches for the girls to go through, often stopping to examine a twig or patch of bark. When they had been going some time they came out on the bank of a river. Here was an open space and Uncle Teddy called the procession to a halt.

“Everybody find a comfortable place and sit absolutely still,” he ordered.

“What’s going to happen?” asked Hinpoha curiously.

“Nothing–very likely,” replied Uncle Teddy tantalizingly.

“May we climb a tree?” asked the Captain.

“Surely,” replied Uncle Teddy, “if that’s your idea of a comfortable place to sit. And if you will promise to be absolutely still when you get there and not fall out at the wrong time.” The Captain swung himself up into a big cedar tree that stood nearby, and sat with his feet dangling over their heads.

“What are you doing, Cap?” called Slim from the ground, “going to heaven?”

“Looks like it,” said the Captain, going a notch higher in search of a better seat.

Slim had not climbed a tree. It was too strenuous for him. “Fine chance you’ll have of getting to heaven, if you have to climb, Slim,” jeered the Captain, now that he was comfortably settled.

Slim only laughed and sat back comfortably against a stump.

53“Sh-h, you two,” called out Gladys warningly. “Don’t you see it’s going to begin?”

“What’s going to begin?” asked the Captain, craning his neck downward to watch Uncle Teddy.

Uncle Teddy put the birchbark trumpet to his lips and sent forth a strange call, that sounded like an animal.

“Why are you doing that?” asked Sahwah.

“I’m going to try and make old man moose come to see us,” said Uncle Teddy. “It’s lots easier than going to see him. You remember the saying about Mahomet and the mountain? Well, now the mountain is coming to see Mahomet. The sound made by this birchbark trumpet resembles the call of the female moose, and when the male hears it he comes to see what it means. Like his human brothers, Mr. Moose is a dutiful husband and comes when his wife calls him. Everybody sit still now and see if he comes.”

Again he sent the call echoing through the woods. The watchers strained ears and eyes, but nothing happened.

A third time he blew on the birchbark trumpet. Then they heard a cracking and crashing among the branches nearby and suddenly a huge creature came trotting up a small path that led into the woods and emerged into the clearing. So sudden was his appearance that it took their breath away and they sat perfectly motionless, marveling at the wide 54 spread of his antlers, his humpy, grotesque nose, and the little bell-like pouch that hung down from his neck. A moment he stood there, wearing a look of inquiry, his big nostrils quivering, and then he became aware of the presence of human beings, and turning in affright he fled up the path by which he had come. But in the moment he had stood there they had been able to get a good look at him.

As soon as he was gone they all sprang to their feet and began excitedly comparing notes on what they had seen.

“Did you ever see such big antlers?” said Sahwah. “So flat and wide. I always thought antlers were like the branches of a tree.”

“And the funny hump on his nose,” said Hinpoha.

“But did you ever see anything so funny as that thing hanging down from his neck?” said Katherine. “It looked just like a bell.”

“Let’s follow him,” said Sahwah enthusiastically, “and see if we can catch a glimpse of him again.”

For a while they could follow the footprints of the big creature in the soft mud along the river bank; then the tracks ceased abruptly. The moose had turned and dashed into the deep woods.

“Now which way did he go?” asked Sahwah.

“You are asking more than I can tell,” answered Uncle Teddy.

“Shall we go any further?” asked Hinpoha doubtfully. 55 “These woods don’t look very easy to walk through.”

“Oh, yes, let’s go on,” begged Sahwah.

“We might get lost and not find our way back,” said Hinpoha.

“We’ll remember this big cedar tree,” said Uncle Teddy. “It’s the only one around here and it’s right near the river.”

Fixing the location of the big cedar tree in their minds they struck into the woods in the direction they thought the moose had taken.

“It’s queer we don’t hear him,” said Sahwah. “You’d think an animal as large as that would make a great noise running through the woods. Just listen to the racket Slim is making over there.”

“That’s where the moose has a secret no man can find out,” said Uncle Teddy. “Big and awkward as he is, he moves through the forest as silently as a phantom. How he does it no one knows. A horse or a cow, though smaller, would make ten times as much noise.”

“Do you suppose we’ll find our way back to the cedar tree?” asked Gladys, beginning to look rather solemn as the trees and bushes closed around them in seemingly endless array.

Uncle Teddy smiled and showed her a small compass he was holding in his hand. “We have been going straight west so far,” he said. “If we turn for any reason we’ll make note of the tree where we 56 turn. It is as easy to find your way through the woods as it is through the city if you will only keep your eyes open for sign posts.”

As he was speaking they came upon another cedar tree, as big and as old as the first; the only one they had passed since that one. “Now there is a landmark worth noting,” said Uncle Teddy, pointing to the tree. “Giant cedar, towering above other trees, only one in sight. Fifteen minutes’ walk due west from the other cedar beside the river. And you see we will have to turn right here because there seems to be a path at right angles to the direction we have been traveling, while it is swampy straight ahead.”

He called the rest around him and made them all make a note of the trail they were taking. So they all jotted down, “Due west from cedar by river until you come to another; then turn south.”

And right in the path, a few steps ahead, was a soft, muddy place and in it there was a fresh footprint, which was just like those made by the moose on the river bank.

“He is around here!” cried Sahwah excitedly. “Maybe we’ll see him yet if we keep going.”

They picked their way carefully, avoiding the swampy ground and pretty soon they came to a third cedar, just as tall as the other two, and also the only one in sight.

“Another guidepost to remember,” said Uncle 57 Teddy, and made them jot it down. Just beyond this tree the swamp made them turn to the left. Several times more they saw the footprint of the moose in the soft mud near the path, but never a glimpse did they get of him.

Some distance ahead stood a fourth big cedar and ten minutes’ walk beyond that a fifth.

“It will be as easy to find our way back as if we were walking down a street full of signposts,” said Gladys, who had become fascinated with this method of looking for guideposts through the woods. “All we have to do is walk until we come to a cedar tree. It seems almost as if they had been planted that way on purpose. Let’s keep on and see if there are any more.”

Sure enough, in about ten minutes they came to another one, and there the trail through the woods ended at the foot of a rocky hill.

“That makes six cedar trees we’ve passed,” said Gladys, jotting down the fact in her notebook.

“Uncle Teddy, won’t you please call the moose again,” pleaded Sahwah. “Maybe he’d come again.”

“I doubt it,” said Uncle Teddy. “He found out once that it wasn’t his mate calling him.”

“Try it again, anyway,” begged Sahwah.

Uncle Teddy sent the call of the birchbark trumpet echoing far and wide, but though they watched 58 in breathless silence, no moose appeared in answer to the call.

“He’s ‘wise,’” said the Captain. “You can’t blame him. Nobody could fool me twice either.”

“We might as well start back now,” said Slim, beginning to think longingly of the supper cached under the first cedar by the river. “We’ve had our hunt, and seen the moose, which was what we came for. Aren’t you all satisfied yet?”

“Oh, Slim, are you very hungry?” asked Sahwah. “Katherine and I want to go up the hill a little way and poke into that ravine up there; it’s so dark and mysterious looking.”

Slim sighed and looked longingly back toward the trail by which they had come.

“Oh, never mind, we won’t go,” said Sahwah, seeing the look.

“Oh, go on,” said Slim good naturedly.

Katherine fished in her pocket and drew out a tin foil-covered package. “Here’s a piece of chocolate I’ve been carrying around with me ever since I’ve been at Ellen’s Isle,” she said. “It’s pretty stale by this time, I guess, but it’ll keep you from starving while Sahwah and I go and explore the ravine.”

Slim took the chocolate without any scruples regarding its staleness and Katherine and Sahwah started up the hill. Then the rest thought they would like to go into the ravine, too, and all came streaming after.

59The ravine was as dark and mysterious as they could wish, for its high sides kept out the sun and in the gloom the trunks of trees seem twisted into fantastic shapes. The ferns and brakes were very luxuriant, and they waded about in them up to their knees.

“There’s another cedar tree!” cried Gladys, pointing ahead of her. Springing from the steep side of the ravine and towering high above it stood a seventh cedar tree, more lofty and more ancient looking than the others.

“What a peculiar place for a tree to take root,” said Gladys. “It looks as though it would slide down the hill any minute.”

“I reckon it’s firm enough,” said Uncle Teddy. “It’s been hanging on there for considerably over a hundred years, by its size.”

“What’s this on the rock?” asked Sahwah, who had been examining the boulders which lay at the bottom of the ravine just under the tree. She pointed to a mark on one of the stones, an arrow chiseled out of the hard rock. They all crowded around and exclaimed in wonder. What could it mean?

“Maybe somebody’s buried here,” said the Captain.

“Rather a heavy tombstone,” said Uncle Teddy. “And not much of an epitaph. I’ll want more than an arrow on mine.”

60“It must mean something,” said Hinpoha, her romantic imagination fired immediately.

But the consuming interest they had all shown in the arrow on the rock was driven out of them the next moment by a wild uproar at the other end of the ravine–the sound of a great crashing accompanied by a frightful bellow. Then there was another crash; the sound of rock striking against rock, a ripping, tearing, falling sound, a thud and another frightful bellow.

“Goodness, what was that?” asked Uncle Teddy, running forward in the direction of the noise, followed by the others.

They soon saw. On the ground at the upper end of the ravine lay the great bull moose they had seen that afternoon when he had come, in the pride of his strength, to answer the call of the birchbark trumpet. Now he lay in a heap, his sides heaving convulsively, beside a good-sized rock he had either carried over the edge of the precipice in his fall from above, or which had carried him. At the top of the ravine there was a deep hole in the soil where the ground had given away and hurled him over the edge. But the fall was not the worst of it. Down in the ravine there stood a broken sapling about two feet high, its sharp point standing up like a bayonet. Straight onto this the moose had plunged in his fall, ripping his chest open in a great jagged gash from which the blood flowed in a stream.

61Hinpoha turned away and covered her eyes with her hands at the dreadful sight.

“Kill him, kill him,” said Aunt Clara, catching hold of her husband’s arm in distress, “I can’t bear to see him suffer so.”

“I have nothing to kill him with,” said Uncle Teddy, in equal distress.

But the moose was beyond the need of a friendly bullet to end his sufferings, for after a few more convulsive heaves he stiffened out and lay still.

“Is he dead?” asked Hinpoha.

“Yes,” answered Uncle Teddy.

“I’m so glad,” said Hinpoha, still keeping her eyes averted. “The poor, poor thing. Are you going to bury him?”

“Bury him!” shouted the Captain in amazement. “Bury that moose? Not for a hundred dollars! Bury those antlers, and that hide? What are you thinking of?”

“I forgot,” said Hinpoha meekly. “I was only thinking of the poor moose himself, not his antlers or his hide.”

“Have we a right to take him?” asked Gladys. “This isn’t the hunting season, you know.”

Mr. Evans smiled fondly at her. “Always wondering whether you have a right to do things, aren’t you, puss? Yes, of course we have a perfect right to take his antlers and his hide. We didn’t kill him out of season; he killed himself falling into the 62 ravine, so we haven’t broken any law. He just sort of dropped into our laps, and ‘finders is keepers,’ you know.”

“Well, your Calydonian Hunt was more successful than you expected,” said Uncle Teddy, “for now you will really have the antlers as a trophy instead of just seeing the moose. If only all big game hunting were so easy!”

The Argonautic Expedition seemed very argonautic, indeed, when Mrs. Evans welcomed it back into camp and heard the news about the moose. Of course, they could not bring it back with them in the war canoe, for it weighed twelve hundred pounds if it weighed an ounce. Uncle Teddy and Mr. Evans, with the Captain and a few more of the Sandwiches, went directly back in the big launch to bring in the carcass while the Winnebagos prepared a second supper to celebrate the triumphant outcome of the Calydonian Hunt.