Wood began. "I was brought up, as you all know, in the
eastern part of Maine, and we often used to go over into New Brunswick
for our sport. Moose were our best game. Did you ever see one, Laura?"
"No, uncle," she said.
"Well, when I was a boy there was no more beautiful sight to me in the
world than a moose with his dusky hide, and long legs, and branching
antlers, and shoulders standing higher than a horse's. Their legs are so
long that they can't eat close to the ground. They browse on the tops of
plants, and the tender shoots and leaves of trees. They walk among the
thick underbrush, carrying their horns adroitly to prevent their
catching in the branches, and they step so well, and aim so true, that
you'll scarcely hear a twig fall as they go.
"They're a timid creature except at times. Then they'll attack with
hoofs and antlers whatever comes in their way. They hate mosquitoes, and
when they're tormented by them it's just as well to be careful about
approaching them. Like all other creatures, the Lord has put into them a
wonderful amount of sense, and when a female moose has her one or two
fawns she goes into the deepest part of the forest, or swims to islands
in large lakes, till they are able to look out for themselves.
Pages:
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231