Memories of Moose-Shooting 



in bagging, perched on some poles lashed athwartships 

 of the wagon. 



My carbine, which is a 30 U.S. Army Winchester 

 model 95, would just reach from palm to palm across 

 the horns. Hence the spread was not remarkable, but 

 these horns had more bone in them than any horns that 

 I have seen come out of the Rossignol district in fifteen 

 years. The palms, instead of growing out sideways, grew 

 nearly straight back over the moose's shoulders, and 

 they were fully twenty-eight inches long. This moose 

 evidently yarded in the spring and summer in the thick 

 woods, so his horns grew back instead of spreading, to 

 permit him to pass between the trees. If these horns 

 had grown out at the usual angle from the bull's head, 

 they would have given a spread of nearly eighty inches. 



Chapter 4. — Vindication. 



On this same trip I had just arrived at the camp. It 

 was Sunday morning. My car was hardly in the garage 

 when I saw a canoe coming with two men and a moose 

 head amidships. This moose had been killed on Saturday 

 by John Sheriff, one of the local guides, down in the 

 North-East Bay country, about two miles from camp, 

 and they were rushing it out to the landing early Sunday 

 morning, so they could be in time for church. Anvway, 

 this was the excuse John gave for working on Sunday. 



The moose was a big one, as the photograph shows. 

 As they had only part of the carcass with them, which 

 would weigh in the neighbourhood of about two hundred 

 pounds to the quarter, and had to paddle back to get the 

 balance of the animal, I am under the impression that 

 they did not get out to the settlement in time to attend 

 even Sunday-school. 



John said that they " just run on to the bull " on the 



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