Moose 



having outlived its age and generation, it must necessarily soon 

 become extinct from natural causes. 



His massive scoop-shaped antlers and monstrous muzzle, in fact, 

 his whole great ungainly carcass, looks as if it might well belong to 

 some of those forgotten creatures whose bones are found in the 

 river-drift, or dug up from beneath clay strata, buried in some 

 long past interglacial epoch. 



Yet the moose lives and breeds in our Maine woods, its flesh 

 serves as an article of food among us and may be bought in the 

 market. 



Furthermore, he seems perfectly well fitted to look out for 

 his own safety. His speed and endurance are astonishing, and he 

 carries his large bulk and spreading antlers easily and swiftly 

 through thickets where a man might well hesitate to force his way. 



His long legs are very convenient when wading about after 

 water lilies and equally so in reaching upward to peel the bark 

 from the young trees or biting off the tender shoots. When 

 browsing, however, he not unfrequently brings his heavy body 

 also into play and rearing up rides the tree down by sheer force, 

 thus bringing the upper branches within reach. Feeding off the 

 ground is another matter, however, the neck being too short to 

 compensate for the great length of leg so that the beast is forced 

 to kneel with the front feet in order to reach the ground in a 

 level spot. 



The moose is eminently an animal of the forest and is par- 

 ticularly at home in the dense thickets surrounding the shallow 

 lakes, bogs and watercourses of the north woods, where he may 

 be found wading through the water in search of the yellow 

 splatterdocks, the roots of which at certain seasons form one of 

 his choicest articles of diet. Most of the peculiarities of the moose 

 are undoubtedly due to his habits which are in many respects 

 different from those of other members of the deer tribe. 



In running his movements are described as clumsy, never 

 galloping or jumping, but executing a curious shuffling or ambling 

 gait, tossing his head and shoulders as if about to break into a 

 gallop, but only increasing his speed by lengthening his stride, 

 spreading his hind feet in order to straddle the front ones 

 without stepping on them, his hoofs clacking noisily as he goes. 



He holds his nose up and his antlers laid back on his 

 shoulders to avoid the branches. When he comes to a fallen 



