stopped and began feeding, scarcely two hundred yards
away. I reached first for my heavy rifle, then for the paddle,
and cautiously "fanned" the canoe towards shore till an old
stump on the point covered my approach. Then the little bark
jumped forward as if alive. But I had scarcely started when--
klrrrr! klrrr! ik-ik--ik! Over my head swept Koskomenos
with a rush of wings and an alarm cry that spoke only of haste
and danger. I had a glimpse of the bear as he shot into the
alders, as if thrown by a catapult; the kingfisher wheeled in a
great rattling circle about the canoe before he pitched upon the
old stump, jerking his tail and clattering in great excitement.

I swung noiselessly out into the lake, where I could watch the
alders. They were all still for a space of ten minutes; but
Mooween was there, I knew, sniffing and listening. Then a great
snake seemed to be wriggling through the bushes, making no sound,
but showing a wavy line of quivering tops as he went.

Down the shore a little way was a higher point, with a fallen
tree that commanded a view of half the lake. I had stood there a
few days before, while watching to determine the air paths and
lines of flight that sheldrakes use in passing up and down the
lake,--for birds have runways, or rather flyways, just as foxes
do. Mooween evidently knew the spot; the alders showed that he
was heading straight for it, to look out on the lake and see what
the alarm was about. As yet he had no idea what peril had
threatened him; though, like all wild creatures, he had obeyed
the first clang of a danger note on the instant. Not a creature
in the woods, from Mooween down to Tookhees the wood mouse, but
has learned from experience that, in matters of this kind, it is