She would huddle up beneath her mother's belly or
crowd down among the rest of the herd for warmth, but long before
Christmas she had become a mere bag of bones."
The Child shivered sympathetically. But, remembering the Snowhouse
Baby, he could not help inquiring:
"Why didn't she make herself a house in the snow?"
"Didn't know enough!" answered Uncle Andy shortly. "Did you ever hear
of any of the cow kind having sense enough for that? Well, it's a
pretty sure thing, you may take it, that she would never have pulled
through the winter if something unexpected hadn't happened to change
her luck.
"It was the farmer--the one who had owned her mother, and who, of
course, really owned her, too.
"With his hired man and a team of two powerful backwoods horses and a
big sled for axes and food, he had come back into the woods to cut the
heavy spruce timber which grew around the lake. A half-mile back from
the lake, on the opposite shore, he had his snug log camp and his warm
little barn full of hay. He and his man had everything they needed for
their comfort except fresh meat. And when they came upon the winding
paths of the 'moose yard' they knew they were not going to lack meat
for long.
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