!i, 



!i| G8 FOREST LIFE IN ACADIE. 



swamp and lay ahout liim amongst the spruce stems right 

 and left, now and then making short rushes — the dead 

 sticks flying before him with reports like pistol shots. I 

 have often heard a strange sound produced by moose 

 when "real mad," as the Indians would say — a half- 

 choked sound as if there was a stoppage in the wind-pipe, 

 which might be expressed — hud-jup, hud-jup ! When 

 with his mate, his note is plaintive and coaxing — cooah, 

 cooah ! 



A veteran hunter, now dead, well-known in Nova 



.J!1! Scotia as Joe Cope — to be regretted as one of the last 



■'• ■: examples of a thorough Indian, and gifted with extra- 



'1 ordinary faculties for the chase — thus described to me, 



over the camp-fire, one of his earlier reminiscences of the 



\. ' woods — the subject being a moose fight. 



': It was a bright niarht in October, and he was alone, 



J calling, on an elevated ridge which overlooked a great 



i extent of forest land. " I call," said he, " and in all my 



; life I never hear so many moose answer. Why, the place 



• was bilin' with moose. By-and-by I hear two coming 



I just from opposite ways — proper big bulls I knew from 



:, the way they talked. They come r.'g'it on, and both 



come on thf 'Htle hill at same time — pretty hard place, 



, too, to climl) ui), so full of rocks and windfalls. When 



they coming up the hill, I never hear moose make such 



a shockin' noise, roarin', and tearin' with their horns. I 



just step behind some bushes, and lay down. They meet 



^ just at the top, and directly they seen one another, they 



! went to it. Well, Capten, you wouldn't b'lieve what a 



,(: noise — ^just the same as if gun gone off. Well, they 



, ripped away, till I couldn't stand it no longer, and I shot 



one of the poor brutes ; the other he didn't seem to mind 



