Perhaps a roving fox had frightened it, perhaps the bird had taken to noisy flight at the near tread of a moose, a caribou, or a deer.

But-- To Wabi the soft, quick notes of the moose-bird spelled man! In an instant he was upon his feet, darting quickly into the sheltering cedars of the shore.

Through these he now made his way with extreme caution, keeping close to the bank of the frozen stream.

After a little he paused again and concealed himself behind the end of a fallen log.

Ahead of him he could look into the snow gloom between the cedars, and whatever was coming through that gloom would have to pass within a dozen yards of him.