few times when it happen, and then there be reason. He carry off on horns what makes him rush our camp. I saw the same with my own eyes. Bull moose much like farm bull, and hate ze red color ver' mooch."

At hearing this several of the boys gave a shout.

"There, see what you get, Jimmy, for keeping that silly red sweater around. The old bull saw it hanging there in the light of our fire, and it made him so furious, as it has us lots of times, that he lowered his head and just charged us."

"But he took it away with him, as sure as you live, fellows!" gasped Jimmy, as a sense of his deep affliction came over him. "My dear sweater that I loved so much."

"Bully for the moose!" cried Jack.

"He'd done us all a mighty good turn, even if he never meant to," added Frank, "now we've seen the last of that terrible old garment, and Jimmy'll just have to get out the nice new one he's been carrying in his bag."

"Just think of the old fool, would you, a-tearin' around the woods with that red flag hanging from his horns," Jimmy wailed. "Don't I hope it keeps him wild right along, so that he'll smash into a tree, and break his blessed neck! But I'm glad he didn't take a notion to carry me off along with my sweater, and that's no lie!"

The little excitement soon died away. Not much damage had been done after all by that mad charge of the infuriated bull moose. The rent in the canvas could be readily mended, and as for Jimmy's loss it was his companions' gain, so that there would be no lament made save by the late owner.

"I didn't know moose ever roamed as far north as this," remarked Ned.

"How about that, Francois?" asked Frank, who, it might be noticed, kept his gun close beside him now, as though meaning to be ready in case another cause for excitement arose.

"It is not often zat ze bull moose come up here," replied the French Canadian, in his queer patois; "but sometimes in summer zey wander far afield. I haf seen ze same so mooch as three hundred mile north from here."

"One thing sure, there are plenty of caribou around," Teddy went on to say; "and when the meat's tender, it suits me all right. I'm running across new things every day up here, and don't feel sorry I came, so far."

"New things seem to be running across us also," chuckled Frank; "for instance, the monster that just invaded our camp. But as our supply of red sweaters has given out now, we'll hope not to have a repeat of that charge in a hurry."

"Me for a tree if ever I hear anything on four legs heading this way again!" Jimmy told them. "Why, what would have happened to me if the old four flusher had set his hoofs square on my stomach? I'd be feeling pretty punk right now, believe me."

"I think I'll take to the tall timber myself if this thing gets common," was what Jack observed. "My stars! but he was a whopper. Looked like the side of a house to me when he sizzled past, scattering the fire, leveling our best tent, and kicking up a whole circus with a band wagon attached."

"What was it we were talking about when we had that unexpected call?" asked Teddy.

"Ned was telling us something more that trapper we met said to him about the queer things that happen away up here in this uninhabited country, which is so different from any other known land. Didn't he say something about a phantom fleet of vessels that kept bobbing up every now and then, only to speed away like ghosts. What did you make of that silly rot, Ned?"

"I've been puzzling my head over it ever since," Ned replied, "but for the life of me can't make head or tail of the story. I've almost come to the conclusion that the trapper was a little dippy, and just imagined he saw those vessels."

"Sounds like it to me, Ned," Jack declared. "Whatever would vessels of any kind want up in Hudson Bay, if not to fish, or hunt whales, or seals, or walrus? And why should they flit around like ghosts, as he said? Chances are the old chap was using up his surplus stock of strong drink, and saw things where they didn't exist."

"Well, anyway," Jimmy ventured, reflectively, "it's me that hopes we'll run foul of this same queer disappearing fleet, because if we do it's a pipe cinch we'll scrape all the mystery off the story. We always manage that when we start into anything. It seems to be the scout way of doing things."

"For my part," declared Frank, "I take little stock in that yarn of the trapper. I imagine it's in a line with the big story of the mine syndicate that wants to unload on Mr. Bosworth. This is the country for whopping lies. Everything is on so big a scale up here, you know, stories have to keep along with them."

"And moose are as big as houses," added Jimmy.

"How is it we don't see you busy with your fish lines to-night, Jimmy?" asked Ned.

"Yes, it's been three mornings now since we had fresh fish for breakfast, and as that job was handed over to you, we all want to know what's gone wrong?" Jack added.

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders, and made a wry face.

"I've soured on me job, if that's what you want to know," he replied. "I've pulled in so many fish since we started that me arm is sore with the work. Besides, I've lost me taste for fresh fish. Them that feel an itching for the diet c'n do the business. Here's me lines and hooks with pleasure."

No one, however, seemed anxious to undertake the task on this particular occasion. Truth to tell they were one and all pretty tired. It had been an unusually arduous day, so that shoulders and legs ached more or less, from packing all their possessions across country to the bank of the river on which they now found themselves, and which Francois, yes, and Tamasjo ditto, affirmed would carry them all the rest of the way to the great inland sea known on the maps as Hudson Bay, in honor of the famous explorer.

It felt good to lie there at their ease on blankets and enjoy the warmth of the cheery campfire. There was more or less of a tang in the air most of the time on account of being so far north; and this became more evident when the sun had set, and the short night commenced, so that the young explorers were glad to have tents and warm blankets along.

Once while they were talking Jack lifted his head and appeared to be listening.

"A wolf pack hunting through the muskegs!" remarked Ned.

"Just what it must be," declared Jack. "And wherever we go it seems as if there was no end to the hungry beasts. We ran up against them away out in California, you remember; and they've given us no end of trouble on this present trip."

"I only hope that swift bunch is hustling along on the trail of Mr. Bull Moose, and that they overhaul the beggar right soon," grumbled Jimmy viciously.

"What ails the little rascal now to make him feel so savage about that moose?" laughed Frank.

"Huh! if you had something you thought the world of carried away on the horns of a rotten old bull moose, mebbe it's you that would be feeling sore on him too, me boy," growled Jimmy.

"Well, they say that one man's food is another's poison," observed Frank; "and all of us feel that your loss is our gain. Red sweaters may be all very well on a baseball field, but in the woods they don't cut such a wide swath."

"Forget it," added Jack.

The two guides were looking after the canoes. It was their customary habit to attend to the craft every night before lying down, because they realized the great value that lay in the only means of making progress that the expedition possessed; while no one dreamed of robbery, still, the motto of a scout is to shut the door before the horse is stolen, and not afterwards. An ounce of prevention is always much better than a