Hardly had the animal's huge antlered head risen to the sky-line when Mukoki shouted again, and the young hunter pressed the trigger of his automatic gun three times in rapid succession.

It was a short shot, not more than two hundred yards, and Mukoki fired but once just as the bull mounted the hilltop.
The next instant the moose was gone and Rod was just about to dash in pursuit when his companion caught him by the arm.
"We got um!" he grinned.

"He run downhill, then fall--ver' close to camp.

Ver' good scheme--wait heem git on top hill.

No have to carry meat far!" As coolly as though nothing had occurred the Indian turned again in the direction of the traps.