Frank Allen at Old Moose Lake;

Frank’s position was one of imminent danger. He was stunned slightly by the fall as he tripped over the log, which was the reason he did not rise quickly enough to get away from the fall of the tree.

The other boys cried in dismay as they realized one of their number was caught. Lanky, who was nearest to Frank, turned quickly as he heard the cries, saw the predicament in which his chum was, and started to run back to lift him away.

The two sawyers, who, as they stepped away from the tree, noticed the boys and saw one of them go to the ground in the path of the falling giant of the forest, now leaped back toward the trunk, casting their saw aside, and both heaved their tremendous strength against the butt in an effort to change its path.

It all happened in a few seconds. The six boys stood breathless, frozen to their position, their faces covered with sickening horror as they saw the spreading branches of the pine settle and heard the tremendous crush and crash and thud of the trunk as the tree reached the ground.

But the work of the sawyers was excellently done, and had been executed in the nick of time. The great white pine toppled to one side of its original position, and, striking a sapling, its fall was broken.

His senses coming back to him as the branches reached out and scratched at him, Frank crawled from under, coming up on the side opposite Lanky, who, himself had been in danger because of his endeavor to help his chum.

Buster Billings saw Frank.

“Are you hurt, Frank?” he cried.

“No. But I surely had the breath knocked out of me when I fell. That was a close call!”

When the boys had assured themselves that their leader was safe, and when Lanky had told him what the sawyers had done, Frank walked over and thanked them heartily for the manner in which they had so quickly saved him from being crushed.

“That’s all right, buddie,” said one of them, a great, broad-shouldered, gruff man, with a week’s growth of beard on him. “But you boys ought to be careful when you come through where trees are falling. One of them strike you dead, sure!”

The boys were interested in watching the woodsmen at their work, whereupon they lingered for more than half an hour watching them drop marked trees, each piece of work being done deftly, surely.

They asked questions about the transportation of the trees, learning that they are pulled out through the snow and are piled up to be run down the rivers to the mill as soon as the freezes of the winter are ended.

“How about moose around here?” Frank asked one of the men when they had become somewhat acquainted. “Ever see any moose bulls?”

“Surest thing you know,” replied the big man of the woods. “Ever heard of the king of the lakes? Old King Moose? He is the biggest thing in these parts. He’s around up here somewhere, but I don’t know where.”

When the next tree had been felled the big fellow turned to the group of boys and regaled them with several stories about the great king of the forests who had fought and whipped every moose bull until he was the monarch of everything.

“Any chance to find him?” asked Frank.

“Oh, yes, there’s a good chance to find him! But you boys can’t get him! No, sir. Been some of the best hunters in these north woods after that fellow, and never any one of them got anything but a chasing. That old fellow knows how to run men the same as he runs other bulls. He’s a terror.”

A short while afterward the boys sauntered away, turning toward the far end of the lake, beyond the hills where they had seen the deer, hoping they might come across the big moose.

But success did not come to them. Several hours they spent trudging through the snow, finally wending their way back to the lake, where they attached their skates to their shoes and made ready for the long return trip.

The heavy wind of the night before had blown the snow from the level plain of the lake’s surface so that it was in great heaps and banks, more especially at the points where the islands stuck their heads out of the lake.

“Wonder why we can’t do some sledding down those hills beyond the camp?” asked Jack Eastwick while they stroked steadily, regularly, heading back across the great expanse of smooth ice.

The idea struck the band of boys favorably, and, as they kept up their regular pace, they made plans for building a long sled for the purpose.

Frank’s find of boards in the shack back of the camp-house was a foundation for their plans, but they had no idea where they could find steel pieces for the runners.

“Don’t need them,” muttered Buster. “We can use plain wood and it win get slick enough after you have used it once or twice.”

“How about bending a piece of hickory or something else for runners?” put by Tom Budd.

“Can’t bend wood so easily unless it has some sap in it,” Lanky replied. “Have to wait until spring for that, and when spring comes you don’t want a sled.”

Reaching the camp in the middle of the afternoon, the boys warmed before the fire, got something to eat, and proceeded at once to execute their plans for a sled. The boards were very soon obtained, several heavier pieces for making runners, and by seeking all over the place they found enough nails to make the work complete.

At dusk, when the day was closing, the boys looked down on a piece of work that was done. They had a sled.

“Next thing is to see if the thing runs,” said Lanky.

“It’ll run if you get to the top of a hill and start it downhill with enough of a load on it,” replied Jack Eastwick.

This started Lanky to laughing, whereupon the boys knew he had some idea inside his brain which was hunting for a way out.

“Fellows,” he said, “there’s one thing I have been wondering about ever since we studied it in school. What did people do before Newton discovered gravitation?”

Frank looked at Lanky with an amused smile.

“You see,” Lanky went on soberly, as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders and all the peoples of the world were waiting for him to speak, “how did things fall to the earth before Newton discovered gravitation? Couldn’t do it, could they?”

Buster started to answer Lanky, to explain to Lanky that gravitation always existed, but the other boys drowned out the explanation with their hearty laughter.

“Let’s eat!” called one of them, starting for the cabin, and, though it had been but two hours since they had eaten a very good meal, the boys prepared another and did away with it.

“I surely hope this night will be more quiet than last night,” said Frank. “We’re all tired and we need some rest. Let us get to bed early, and to-morrow we’ll get out to hunt for that moose bull. I will never be satisfied until I have tried to bring him down.”

After this several days, including Sunday, passed quickly. All of the boys went hunting and fishing, and though they did not see the big bull moose—or in fact any moose or deer—they did manage to bring down half a dozen partridges and two wildcats. The fight with the wildcats was a thrilling one. The first of these beasts was laid low by Lanky, but it took Frank, Paul, and Herman Hooker to get the second.

“Wildcats are not so bad,” said Frank. “But I want that moose.”

Late that day they caught sight of a lynx—a member of the wildcat family—but though Frank, Paul and two others shot at the beast, it got away in the snow.

At fishing the crowd was far more successful. They got two fine mess of pickerel and perch, and Frank managed to catch a muskellonge that weighed ten or eleven pounds. He had hard work landing this catch, but finally did it successfully.

“Gee, now we can eat fish for a week!” cried Paul. “But before you cut him up I want a picture,” he added, and the photo was speedily snapped.

Then came a day of more snow and high winds, and the boys remained indoors, playing games, telling stories, and trying their hand at making candy.

“Wish we could get out and look for that big bull moose again,” sighed Frank, one night when they were preparing for bed.

“Wow, Frank’s got the moose on the brain,” chuckled Buster.

“I guess we all have,” returned Herman Hooker, as the light was put out. “Let’s hunt for him to-morrow.”

To this the others agreed.

The night passed quietly, and the next morning found the boys up betimes, prepared to seek the moose. All morning passed away without a trace of the big fellow, which sent the boys back to camp intent on putting the new sled into use.

Thus it was that the afternoon saw a long sled being dragged up the trail which the boys had followed when seeking the tramps who had stolen their goods. Reaching a point well above the lake level, they set it around and started downhill. At first it was slow in getting away, the boys helping it along, but finally it gained momentum and carried them to the bottom, but not far out on the lake.

Three times they tried it, noticing that each time the sled carried them farther out. It was on the fourth trip, when the wood of the runners seemed to be perfectly smoothed by friction, that they found a real ride, the sled carrying them a long distance out on Old Moose Lake.

Frank proposed they go to the Jeek camp to get that man’s belongings. This they did, using the sled to carry the stuff back to their own, so that evening found them in their own cabin, the fire going, and only tales to tell and hopes to express, inasmuch as they had not seen the moose bull again after the fight.

“Maybe he doesn’t belong around here—maybe we can find him only by going deeper into the woods,” remarked Frank. “I believe he must have a lair, or whatever a moose has for a home, somewhere back in the woods on the other side of the lake.”

This caused the boys to decide, after a discussion of the question, that they leave the cabin on the morrow very early, skating across to the farther side, there set up a temporary camp, put food away safely, and then spend a day or two hunting through the country beyond the lake for the elusive king of the forest.

Plans were carried out exactly as they had been made.

The next morning’s sunrise found them almost at the opposite side of the lake, and an hour after sunrise saw a camp set up, tent in place, food safely hidden, firewood gathered, stakes made for the cooking.

Leaving their skates at the camp, carrying nothing but their firearms, with carefully loaded ammunition belts about their waists, they sallied forth to find the moose.

“If we don’t find him to-day,” said Frank, as they left the camp, “I believe we should stay here all night and go out early to-morrow morning for him again. It was in the early morning that we saw him before.”

Not taking the direction which would lead them again to the woodsmen’s camp, knowing the moose would not deliberately come up to a place where the work was going on, they bore off at an angle opposite that which they had pursued when they left the woodsmen some days previous.

Two small creeks were frozen over, either of which might have been a waterhole. The boys crossed these, going deeper and deeper into the evergreen woods.

“Not even a thing for Paul to take a picture of,” Lanky remarked when they stopped in an opening to look the country over.

Off to one side they saw the mountains stretching away, and, as Frank thought, they should find something by going back in that direction. Getting their bearings, in order not to be lost, they made for the mountains which strung out to the south.

Suddenly Frank came to a halt and stopped all the boys.

Toward the hills, in a grove of trees, he saw moving things. Eight pairs of eyes studied the distance carefully.

Scattering out in a long line so that each was no closer than ten yards from the other, the boys swept forward toward the trees like a wave of soldiers just over the trenches heading for the enemy.

Frank was at the center, where he could call to the boys quickly and yet not have to yell too loud.

Yard by yard, through snow less than knee-deep, they made for the trees, seeing the animals more plainly as they went. There was no doubting it—a moose bull and several cows were in that bunch of trees, browsing about.

Within a hundred yards the boys saw a great bull lift his head, hold it high, seeming to sniff, and then turn directly toward them. He saw the boys coming. Instantly he trotted off toward the right, the cows all following on a gallop. It was the Old King Moose himself!

The boys ran as hard as they could toward that end of the grove, and the bull turned back. He stopped to look at his enemies. The boys closed in. The big bull moose pawed the ground with his fore feet, and the lads knew he was angry.

His head went up, a loud bellow came from him, and he charged straight for them!