MOOSE-HUNTING IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 31 



northern ranges as they are near the National Park and in 

 the fertile valleys of the Snake River. It is upon the trib- 

 utaries of Clear Water River that the sportsman, ten years 

 hence, may expect to find Moose in numbers that will insure 

 good sport to reward endurance and patience. Any man 

 who can lay claim to the name of sportsman can reasona- 

 bly expect to find a Moose in two or three days of still 

 hunting in the Clear Water region, either now or ten years 

 from this date. The Moose supply in that wilderness will 

 be practically inexhaustible — as much so, at least, as in the 

 forests of Maine. 



The best season for Moose-hunting in the mountains of 

 the Far West is October and November. The first snow- 

 fall, on the mountains, may be expected in November, and 

 if the hunter is not discouraged by the hardships sure to 

 come with the first storms of winter, he would do well to 

 take advantage of that season, as that, too, is about the time 

 the bulls go forth to battle for the favors of the females. 

 This is the season in which the native hunters, in the north- 

 eastern woods, are said to use the birch-bark horn with such 

 terrible results to the unsuspecting game. The horn has 

 never been used in the Rocky Mountains, to my knowledge, 

 and I have never heard any such noise here as is attributed 

 to the Moose in the woods of Maine and Canada. The cow 

 Moose, I have reason to believe, never utters a cry of any 

 kind, here, and the bull of our region simply whistles, like 

 the Elk and Deer. I have often heard them make their 

 challenges and utter their calls, but it was simply a whistle, 

 such as a boy might make by blowing between his fingers, 

 though coarser, and not prolonged or repeated. 



My first experience with the call of the Moose was on the 

 Upper Clear Water River, ten years ago. I was in camp in 

 the dense cedar forests of that great wilderness, and was 

 not expecting to see large game. I thought the whistle 

 which echoed from the canon, a quarter of a mile away, 

 was the challenge of a black-tailed buck, and I went out to 

 meet him with an antiquated Henry rifle of the lightly 

 charged pattern. The gun was old, as well as lightly 



