The Kinsley graphic. [volume] (Kinsley, Kan.) 1890-1940, 1904-02-12
amp-fre tale. To shoot tina almost

campfire tale. To shoot tina almost
tabled albino moose woul6 crown Pc
ter's fame as a hunter and give him
name that would long survive IN the
traditions of the province. AID this
was, probably, the only chance he
would ever have to perform. such
feat
The man fairly trenbled with excite
ment as he pushed his long, old-fash-
Toned rifle through cleft in the rock
and made ready to fire the shot of his
life. The white moose was coming
straight toward the rock where the
hunter lay concealed. Peter crouched
behind the rampant and, sweeping his
horn low and close to the surface Of
the rock, gave one more rluff1ed and
seemingly retreating call.
AS he slowly lifted head and eyes
into the cleft once more he was amazed
to see just emerging into the barren,
beyond the big rock, the figure OF a
man. The newcomer was unarmed,
save for an ak, and he carried a ped
dler's pack on his back. AS he came
in sight of the moose he stopped short
and half turned, as if to fee. This
brought his face directly toward Peters
hiding place-and instantly the hunter
recognized him, in spite of the ravages
of time, as the same Gaspard Langlois
who had robbed him of his youthful
sweetheart! Poor, degraded, and now,
no doubt, alone in the world, fallen
from his dashing splendor of voy-
q of pit
after all, had fate dealt with Theresa's
successful sutton! Yet he was the
same Gaspard Langlois, the man who
had spoiled two lives, and destiny had
at last cast him into Peters hand.
The white moose advanced a few
steps further and stopped, confronting
the man who had suddenly emerged
from behind the rock. Both seemed
spellbound. Both were now within
range Of the deadly rife of Peter Par
deau-the famous old rifle that had
slain so many moose and caribou and
bear! The long barrel shook in the
crevice with faint rafting sound.
Peter turned it first on the man, and
then back again on the moose. A fierce
red spot blazed on each of the mans
cheeks His hands trembfed like two
wind-shaken autumn leaves. Revenge
Kissed, Shoot the man, let the moose
co." Fame, the long-cherished mis-
tress of the lonely hunter, whispered,
Kill the moose first-then the man. A
moose can run faster than a mani"
The trembling barrel of the old muz-
zle-loader swayed to and fro. The
III -
marble cheeks of the hunter. Suddenly
the white moose turned broadside-
and a sheet of flame shot forth from
the calling-rock. The moose sprang
forward, then stumbled, and fell in
quivering heap amidst the bareback.
At the sound of the rifles crack Gas
pard Langlois raised his eyes in terror
to the great rock. Peter had leaped to
his feet and with frantic haste was
pouring fresh charge of powder into
the long barrel of his rife. BY subtle
divination Gaspard recognized the man
he wronged, and knew the meaning of
Peters deadly haste. That handful of
sliding, tinkling powder was for him!
Gaspard LangIois dropped the pack
from his back and fed toward the lake
and the forest beyond. Like a snipe,
flushed from tussock or clump of
reeds, he twisted and zigzagged in his
fight. that the bullet might perchance
speed by him to left or right, and bury.
itself in the oozy marsh. Peter worked
himself up to the highest pinnacle of
the rock, all the while driving home
the patched bullet in the long rifle bar
rel. He toiled with fierce haste, but
with deadly sureness Not a motion
was wasted.
All ready now, save the little copper
cap to slip over the nipple. Peter
fetched 1t out of his buckskin pocket
with a swift motion of thumb and fin
ger; but just as he was fitting it to-
the nipple he raised his eyes for the
fraction of second to mark his vic
TINS whereabouts. Gaspard was just
lodging into the shadow Of the woods.
The cap slipped and went tinkling
down the slope Of rock. Peter sprang
after it, dropped down upon his knees,
caught the rolling bit of metal and
crushed it down over the nipple of his
gun. When he rose. with the rifle
pressed hard against his shoulder, the
vast barren lay desolate and deserted.
Not a living figure was anywhere IN
sight. Peter had won the fame he
craved-but one little slip of the hand
had lost him revenge