midnight
This is the time for fooling him . The hunter makes a horn out o ' birch-bark , somewheres about eighteen inches long , through which he mimics the call of the cow-moose , to coax the bull within reach of his rifle-shots . '' `` What is the call like ? '' asked Neal , his heart thumping while he remembered that strange noise which had marked a new era in his experience of sounds , as he listened to it at midnight by Squaw Pond . `` Sho ! a man might keep jawing till crack o ' doom , and not give you any idea of it without you heard it , '' answered Herb Heal , the dare-all moose-hunter . `` The noise begins sort o ' gently , like the lowing of a tame cow .