Terms, Four Dollars a Year, j 

 Ten Cents a Copy. j 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, AUGUST 17, 1876. 



| Volume 7, Number 2. 



) 17 Chatham St.(CityHalltsqr.) 



For Forest and Stream. 



loozehend ^nhe met ^itit\itQ 



iV - — « — 



Concluded from last issue. 



AS the sun rose the next morning I fired a guu to no- 

 tify George that we were going to Kineo, and pack- 

 ing our things in the birch and putting the bear on top, 

 we took our way for the house. It did not take us long to 

 reach the dock, and soon our freight excited considerable 

 talk, for although bears were plentiful it was rare that any 

 were shot. The animal was soon skinned, and I took the 

 pelt home with me, and used it long afterwards made up 

 into a rug. The meat was cooked and enjoyed apparently 

 by some, but it was too fat and greasy to suit me. George 

 arrived some time after me, but without any game, for al- 

 though he had seen a moose, he could not get a shot at it. 

 During the next few days we amused ourselves fishing and 

 climbing Mount Kineo. Trout abundant everywhere. It 

 was only necessary to cast a fly about the shore in front of 

 the house, or to walk over to the back bay and stand on 

 the rock at the end of the carry to catch all the fish we 

 could possibly use, in a very short time. At length Uncle 

 Ellis returned from Mount Katahdin, and I at once engaged 

 him to go with me after moose, for although I had shot 

 one I had not succeeded in getting any. He thought Spen- 

 cer Pond might be a likely place. As this was to be a trip 

 of several days we took our cooking utensils and blankets 

 with us, intending to use a shanty that was already built 

 near the pond to sleep in. My friends proposed to remain 

 at the house to hear any report be "ore starling themselves. 

 We got away from the house early in the morning, and 

 soon paddled to the carry, and after a rather fatiguing 

 journey arrived at the shanty, placed near the stream 

 about ten rods from where it ran out of the pond. Having 

 placed our traps in the shanty, Uncle Ellis proposed that 

 we catch fish for supper; so having my rod ready we got 

 into the birch, and Uncle Ellis paddled across the pond. I 

 did not think it seemed a good place to float for deer. In 

 many spots the lily pads were so thick as to prevent a boat 

 from approaching the bank silently, and in others marshy 

 ground extended back into the woods. On these last 

 moose would likely feed, perfectly safe from us, for with- 

 out the light of the moon I could not see to shoot at them. 

 Meanwhile Uncle Ellis guided the birch to a large circular 

 space of clear water, into which, on the farther side, a 

 cold stream was flowing, and stopped the canoe just at the 

 inner margin of the plants. It was about an hour yet to 

 sunset, and, Shade of Old Izaak! what would that departed 

 fisherman of renown have said could he have looked on 

 the sight that was before me? The hole upon whose mar- 

 gin we lay was perhaps a quarter of an acre or so in 

 extent, and the surface of the water was being churned 

 into foam by the numberless trout that were rising in 

 every direction. "Now my boy," said the old man. "just 

 tickle up some ov them fellars, and we won't have none 

 but grand-dads, nuther." In obedience to my instructions 

 I cast towards the middle of the circle. I have caught 

 many trout since that day in many places where they are 

 said to be abundant, but never since have I ever experi- 

 enced anything like the fishing in that hole. No sooner 

 had my cast touched the water than from all quarters the 

 fish rushed at it and fairly mobbed the flies. To say I 

 hooked them would not be stating the fact; they saved me 

 any such effort, and hung themselves on the hooks as fast 

 as I could give them any unoccupied one— and such fish as 

 they were! I had nothing to weigh them with, and fishy 

 weights must always be taken cum grano salts, but I soon 

 had the handsomest string of trout I ever took, for I have 

 never equalled that catch since. At the suggestion of my 

 guide I threw back again fish I was persuaded weighed 

 fully a pound, as not having "grow'd enough." One mon- 

 ster I remember perfectly well had deep gashes on each of 

 his sides, as if they had been cut with a knife, which Un- 

 cle Ellis said were made by the talons of the fish hawks- 



and he "reckoned the trout was so heavy he had to let go, 

 or else the fish would have drownded him." In half an 

 hour I had taken all that we could possibly use for several 

 meals, and gave it up. The fish still continued to rise, 

 however, in as great numbers as ever, keeping the water 

 in a state of foam over its entire exposure. We soon were 

 back at our shanty, and roasted some of our fish on sticks 

 before the fire, and after waiting until the night had set in, 

 we started to float for moose. A single star shed a feeble 

 light upon the water, but not enough to avail us any, for 

 the greater part of the pond and all its shore was envelop- 

 ed in blackness. "Poor show for us, Uncle Ellis," I said; 

 but nevertheless we began the circuit of the pond. After 

 about an hour of waiting I heard a slight splashing in one 

 of the marshy places, and the birch was pushed towards 

 the sound. I strained my eyes to see the animals but with- 

 out avail. "Darn their skins!" ejaculated Uncle Ellis, 

 they're just trampin' all over that ere marsh, and haven't 

 got sense enough to come this away and giv you a shot, no 

 how." Such evidently was the fact, for though we waited 

 until the night grew cold and I was cramped with my con- 

 fined place in the bow, the splashing came no nearer and 

 we returned to camp. 



After breakfast next morning Uncle Ellis stripped a 

 large piece of bark off a birch tree and rolled it up in the 

 shape of a cornucopia. "I'm goin' to see if I "kin git a 

 moose to talk to me," he explained; "1 just make a noise 

 with this thing like the lowing of a cow moose, an' if 

 thar's ary a bull about, an' he don't feel partie'lar bashful, 

 he'll just yell out he's a comin', an' then he'll make tracks 

 for this here cow; and iheu," he continued, "the nights is 

 so dark now you can't see nuthiu', so we'll see if we can 

 git a call, tho' its most too arly to." Later in the day, 

 then, we stationed ourselves in the canoe near the shore., 

 and Uncle Ellis gave the first blast on his horn. It was a 

 long, plaintive cry he produced on his primitive instru- 

 ment, which echoed among the distant hils and died away 

 far up their sides. After a short interval he sounded again 

 and then again. At the third attempt a low roar was 

 heard in reply way up the mountain side. "That's him," 

 said the old man, "mebby he'll come; I'll giv him another 

 invitation," and again the counterfeit cow bid the bull 

 come on. In a few minutes the answering hoarse reply 

 was heard, this time a little nearer to us. "That's right, 

 my boy," said the hunter, "come right along, I've a fine 

 bride for you here," and he called again. No reply came 

 for some time, and then a muffled, grunting sound was 

 heard in^ the same place the last reply came from. I 

 turned to look at Uncle Ellis, and fancied by the expres- 

 sion of his face that he was not exactly satisfied, but he 

 said nothing, and soon tried the effect of his horn again. 

 The same kind of answer came from the same place on 

 the mountain, and Uncle Ellis gave it as his opinion that 

 it was a young bull which was afraid to come on lest he 

 might meet an old fellow along with the supposed cow, 

 and then "he'll git an awful lickin', for you know," he 

 went on, "sometimes two bulls hear a cow callin' and both 

 start for her, and on their arrival thar's the tallest kind uv 

 a fight you ever seed, and that's just what that young boy 

 up thar's afeerd on." And so indeed it proved, for al- 

 though the moose kept on replying to the call he could not 

 be induced to come any nearer; so seeing we returned to 

 camp. That night was a repetition- of the night before. 

 Moose were heard in several places about the pond, but I 

 failed to get a shot, so we decided to return on the mor- 

 row to Kineo and get ready for a trip to the Penobscot, 

 where fresh signs were reported. 



§ Kineo was reached about sundown the next day. The 

 succeeding morning, engaging another guide by the name 

 of Rowland, who had a very good tent, we started in two 

 canoes, prepared to remain a week or two in the woods. 

 B. and Rowland went in one canoe, while George came 

 with me in Uncle Ellis's birch. After a rather long stretch 

 we reached the carry at the head of the lake, and pre- 

 pared to transport our effects across to the Penobscot. A 

 house has been built at this, point lately, but at the time j 

 I write there was no vestige of any dwelling anywhere be- * 



yond Mt. Kineo. In due time we reached the banks of the 

 river, and embarked for a short trip up stream to a partic- 

 ular spot, where Uncle Ellis desired to pitch the camp. As 

 we glided along we were struck with the signs of moose 

 that were visible in all directions. Every few yards broad, 

 well-beaten paths led clown to the water, hardened by the 

 hoofs of countless moose that nightly came to drink and 

 feed upon the tender grasses growing along the margin of 

 the river. About a mile from the carry we came to a low 

 bluff where we were to camp. We had met with one 

 rapid on our way, which compelled us all to get out and 

 wade to lighten the boats, and we were not sorry to reach 

 our stopping place, as we expected certainly to secure a 

 moose that night, as fresh signs were all about us. "Now 

 boys," said Uncle Ellis, "you must catch some fish for 

 supper while we get the camp ready, because I want to be 

 off up stream about sundown; thar's plenty of moose here, 

 and we must git one tonight, or else you've got to eat salt 

 pork the rest of your lives." So George and I took a 

 birch, leaving B. to help the guides, and went fishing. It 

 was an easy matter. Finding aspringhole we repeated the 

 performance of Spencer Baird, and caught as fast as we 

 could throw. Supper was quickly dispatched, and George 

 and I, with Uncle Ellis, started up, while Rowland with 

 his passenger paddled down in search of the noblest of deer. 

 I was in the bow of our canoe and George in the center. 

 We had been slowly advancing for about an hour and a 

 half, when splashing in the water ahead betokened the 

 presence of our mighty game. There was no moon, but 

 the river was wide, and except along the shores, which lay. 

 in the shadows of the woods, we could Tee any large 

 objects. "Thar they are," said our guide; "now you chap 

 in the bow just hold straight this time and we'll have one 

 of them fellars, for there is two or three ov 'em I know by 

 the way they're knocking around, an' I'm going right 

 among 'em." Thus admouished I got ready, and soon dis- 

 tinguished rising up out of the water a great black mass 

 without shape or motion. "Shoot!" The report echoed 

 and re-echoed through the woods, and such a commotion 

 was raised in the river around that I thought a drove of 

 moose was charging down upon the canoe. One or two 

 made for the shore, but I caught sight of a long head 

 darting past me towards the opposite bank, and I shouted 

 "Here goes one, Uncle Ellis." The old man turned the 

 boat and plied the paddle vigorously. "Load up, load up, 

 and give him another ball," he called out, but the totteiiug 

 canoe, in those days of muzzle-loaders, effectually pre- 

 vented that operation from being accomplished. "Look 

 out!" I said, as- the head and neck of a big moose suddenly 

 appeared directly in front of the bow, "look out! By 

 George! we'll be on top of the brute." Too late, for the 

 next moment the birch struck the struggling animal on the 

 back, and I felt his hoof strike the canoe beneath me. Vis- 

 ions of being dashed to pieces and struggling in a deep 

 river with an infuriated moose flashed across my mind, and 

 I yelled out "Backwater! back water! he'll smash the birch 

 to bits; you're right on his back!" Mindful of his canoe 

 the old man exerted himself and drew it back rapidly, and 

 then, to my great satisfaction, I saw the huge body of the 

 deer rise to the surface and roll over on its s'ide. "He is 

 dead, Uncle Ellis; go alongside and let's pull him ashore," 

 I exclaimed; "I see him right in front." Once more the 

 canoe advanced, and taking the animal by his long ears we 

 slowly towed it to the bank, where we all got out and drew 

 the moose on shore. Lighting a torch we found the bullet 

 hole just behind the shoulder. The ball had gone right 

 through to the other side, and we found it afterwards just 

 under the skin. It was evident we had reached the animal 

 in the river when he was dying and unable to go any furth- 

 er. If it had not been so he would undoubtedly have 

 knocked our boat all to pieces, and very probably seri- 

 ously injured some of us. "I thought, Uncle Ellis," Iat 

 length said, "that you told me one should never go near a 

 wounded moose." "So I did, sartain, but how was I to 

 know this one was wounded. You might hare missed 

 him, you know, and anyhow I didn't go very near him; 

 I was a hull boat's length off ov' him." "So you were," I 



