It flows into a large pond a little way ahead of us, but just before we get to the pond it winds through a swamp of little spotted maple, moose bush and alder." "I guess it's beaver you're going to show me," I remarked.
"Guess again," said Willis, "But keep still.

Step in my tracks and don't make the brush crack." The small growth was so thick that we could see only a little way ahead.
Willis pushed slowly through it for some time; then, stopping short, he motioned to me over his shoulder to come forward.

Not twenty yards away I distinguished the red-and-white hair of a large animal that was browsing on a clump of bushes.

It stood in a pathway trodden so deep into the snow that its legs were completely hidden.

In surprise I saw that it had broad horns.
"Why, that's an ox!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," said Willis, laughing.