A heavy crashing in the underbrush not a dozen rods away sent Wabi in a hurried scramble for his perch.
"Quick--higher up!" he warned excitedly.

"They're coming out here--right under us! If we can get up so that they can't see us, or smell us--" The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a huge shadowy bulk rushed past them not more than fifty feet from the spruce in which they had sought refuge.

Both of the boys recognized it as a bull moose, though it did not occur to either of them that it was the same animal at which Wabi had taken a long shot that same day a couple of miles back.

In close pursuit came the ravenous pack.

Their heads hung close to the bloody trail, hungry, snarling cries coming from between their gaping jaws, they swept across the little opening almost at the young hunters' feet.