Publisher's Synopsis
As I sat, one evening, idly musing on memories of roers and Boers, and contemplating the horns of a weendigo I had shot in Labrador and the head of a Moo Cow1 from Canada, I was roused by a ring at the door bell. 1 A literary friend to whom I have shown your MS. says a weendigo is Ojibbeway for a cannibal. And why do you shoot poor Moo Cows?- PUBLISHER. Mere slip of the pen. Meant a Cow Moose. Literary gent no sportsman.- ED
