52 THE SOCIETY FOR THE PRESERVATION OF 



straight line. By * cutting corners ' the hunters could keep within 

 reasonable distance of him, and when at last he — or more probably 

 she — turned to bay, the hunters could easily ascertain the fact 

 from the change in the dogs' voices. When the snow was not too 

 deep the moose usually put up a valiant fight for life. In March 

 the bull moose has always shed his horns, but he still has the use 

 of his fore-feet, and many a moose-dog has been eviscerated and 

 pounded out of existence by the moose at bay. The cow at bay is 

 even more dangerous than the bull. Provided she is not heavy 

 with calf, she is quicker and more vindictive than the bull. Her 

 hoofs are sharper and more pointed ; one blow from them will put 

 man or dog out of action. 



The ' breaking a yard,' as I have described it, usually led to 

 all the heavy moose, including the cows with calf, being killed. 

 The choicest parts of the meat and the hides would be taken out 

 of the woods. The remainder of the carcases would remain where 

 they fell, and serve as food for the wild-cats and bears. This is 

 ancient history, however. At the present day there are not a dozen 

 moose-dogs left in Nova Scotia, and it is a long time since anyone 

 stood trial for ' dogging.' 



Another most destructive practice was, and still is, the practice 

 of snaring. Snares of stout rope were set in the paths and in the 

 openings of * hedges ' (specially constructed for the purpose) ; large 

 numbers of moose were, and a considerable number still are, 

 caught in them. For reasons other than the vigilance of the game- 

 wardens, to which I will revert later on, the unsportsmanlike 

 practice of snaring is on the decrease. While snaring has perforce 

 to be carried on in the fall before the frost comes, and is not so 

 destructive to cow moose as dogging is, it has one most repulsive 

 feature. The snarer is frequently very remiss about looking after 

 his * ropes,' and the moose which is caught in one of them will as 

 likely as not perish from starvation and thirst. Owing to a great 

 variety of causes, * ropes ' set in the fall may remain set all the 

 winter, and do their deadly work in the following spring and 

 summer. In my experience as game-warden I have had painful 

 evidence of this fact. On two occasions I have seen the carcase 

 of a noble bull, with his horns in the velvet, rotting in a wood road 

 — the victim of a snare set a year previously, and never taken up. 

 Snaring has not decreased in the same proportion that * dogging ' 

 has ; and as long as we have any moose, snares will be set and moose 

 will fall victims to them. 



At the same time, for every snare set now, there were five set 

 ten years ago. A certain number of backwoodsmen still ' take 

 chances ' on getting their winter's meat, and a certain number of 

 pot-hunters run risks to procure moose meat for market. 



In the year 1887 the moose began to increase in numbers. I 

 was a mere boy then, and I resided in King's County. In the 

 spring of that year I found time and means to take a vacation in 



