He had staked so much upon securing the game, and the issue was so important that his heart beat hard with excitement.
The wind was still in his favor, and, creeping as near as he dared, he fitted an arrow to Tayoga's bow and pulled the string.

The arrow struck well in behind the shoulder and the moose leaped high.

Another arrow sang from the bow and found its heart, after which it ran a few steps and fell.

Robert's laborious task began, to remove at least a part of the skin, and then great portions of the meat, as much as he could carry, wrapped in the folds of the skin, portions from which he intended to make steaks.
He secured at least fifty pounds, and then he looked with regret at the great body.

He was not one to slay animals for sport's sake, and he wished that the rangers and Mohawks might have the hundreds of pounds of good moose meat, but he knew it was not destined for them.