Two hunters traveled to Canada to hunt moose. They searched around and found a bush pilot with a good
reputation. They hired him and had him fly them to a cabin located by a small remote lake in the
Northwest Territories. The pilot carefully landed the plane on the lake, and let the two hunters off
at the pier. Over the roar of his engine, the pilot told them, "Now this lake is mighty short, and I
won't have much room to take off, so I can only take out one moose. OK, fellas?"

The hunters readily agreed. The pilot said he would return in one week, turned his plane around, and
flew off.

One week later, the pilot returned. He carefully landed his plane on the lake, pull up to the pier,
and looked out in dismay. There sat the two hunters on the pier, all smiles, with two dead moose. The
pilot shut off his engine, climbed out, and told the hunters, "Listen fellas. I told you, only one
moose."

Both hunters immediately began to try and talk the pilot into taking both moose. They pointed out how
big the moose were, what great trophies they'd make, and how they'd gladly pay extra for the trouble.
The pilot refused. Then the first hunter said, "Hey, we had Joe Meyerson as our pilot last year, and
he flew out of here with two moose, with a plane no bigger than yours."

The pilot's pride was stung, for Joe Meyerson was one of his biggest competitors for the tourist
dollars. The pilot thought about it for a couple of seconds, then said "OK, you're on!"

The two hunters quickly helped the pilot secure the moose between the pontoons and the cabin of the
plane, and everyone got in. The pilot checked the wind, and slowly headed for the farthest point of
the lake. When the pilot reached the end of the lake, he turned the plane around and gave it full
throttle. The plane quickly accelerated, speeding across the short lake. Only yards from the rapidly
approaching shore, the pilot pulled back hard on the stick. The plane rose slowly into the air. It
cleared the shore, cleared some trees, then crashed into some tall pines.

An hour later, the first hunter, who is lying on the ground surrounded by broken plane and messy
moose, sits up. Disoriented and having difficulty staying upright, he moans, "Where are we?"

The second hunter, also just sitting up, pauses to consider the question, looks behind himself, turns
back around, rubs his throbbing head, and says, "About a hundred yards further than last year."