HOW WE GOT THE BIG MOOSE OUT OF THE 



WOODS. 



W. L . Miller. 



A friend and myself left Bangor, 

 September 20, 1893, going over 

 the New Bangor & Aroostook 

 Railway, which runs through the wildest 

 part of Maine, to Norcross, where we 

 put our canoe into the North Twin 

 river, a tributary of the Penobscot. We 

 decided to make the trip without a 

 guide, and to get a good dose of the hard 

 work as well as of the ease and pleasure 

 of a hunting trip. A man who is famil- 

 iar with forest life, competent to paddle 

 his own canoe and cook his own food, 

 can avoid many disagreeable things by 

 going alone, or with only a trusty friend. 

 We paddled to the head of Pemadom- 

 cook lake, some 18 miles, pitched our 

 tent, and hunted that region for four or 

 five days. We saw numbers of deer every 

 day, and had fine fishing, but only saw 

 a few signs of moose in the immediate 

 vicinity of our camping ground. After 

 a week here, we pulled up stakes and 

 started for Nahmakanta lake, some 10 

 miles north. Here we made camp, and 

 hunted the region between Rainbow and 

 Nahmakanta. 



Deer were plentiful, and threre was no 

 difficulty in killing all the law allowed. 

 There was also an abundance of ruffed 

 grouse and trout. My friend was along 

 in years, and could not remain out nights 

 to call moose, so I was alone at that 

 work. After calling about two hours, 

 on the night of October 3d, I heard a 

 moose answer, but could not get him 

 into the water, where I could see to 

 shoot. I looked for him at peep of day, 

 but could not see him. 



After a few days we started down 

 stream for our old camping ground, at 

 the head of Pemadomcook lake, saw 

 fresh signs of moose, and concluded to 

 stay there until we should kill one. 

 I called every night until about mid- 

 night, and visited the spot at daylight 

 each morning. On the fourth morning, 

 I was rewarded by seeing a large bull 

 and cow on the bog. They were moving 

 toward me with the wind in their favor. 

 Water and fallen timber prevented my 

 getting to leeward of the game, so I ran 



back for my partner, put the canoe into 

 the water, and paddled straight for the 

 moose. When about 400 yards away, 

 the cow showed signs of uneasiness, 

 threw up her head and started away. 

 The bull, apparently, was not wide 

 awake, and came right on, head down. 

 When about 325 yards distant, he too 

 turned his head, discovered that the cow 

 had left him, and jumped at the same 

 time. At that instant I lost my aim, 

 but got a good bead on him the second 

 jump and pulled. The 45-90 bullet hit 

 him fairly between the ears, and he fell 

 dead in his tracks. It was a lucky shot, 

 as no man is sure of killing a moose at 

 that distance with the first or even the 

 second shot, especially from a canoe. 



Our game was 200 yards from the 

 water and about 18 miles from the rail- 

 way station. We decided to take the 

 whole carcass to Bangor, in order to 

 get a photograph of him, as we had, un- 

 fortunately, no camera with us. The 

 ground favored us, being an incline 

 from the moose to the water. We cut 

 down spruce trees, about six inches 

 thick at the butt ; built a tramway and 

 inched the great animal along to the 

 water's edge. This took us half a day. 

 We then cut five dry cedar trees, about 

 30 feet long and a foot and a half 

 through at the butt, and built a raft, 

 on which we skidded our moose. Then 

 we hired another man and canoe and 

 started at 7 o'clock at night to tow our 

 cargo 18 miles, to the railway station. 



We paddled all night and half of the 

 next day before reaching the sta- 

 tion, and you can readily understand 

 that we were tired when we landed. 

 That is the last moose I shall ever tow. 

 The carcass dressed 11 23 pounds, and 

 we got a photograph of him that well 

 repaid us for all our hard work. 



Mr. W. T. Jenkins, Treasurer of the 

 Babcock Varnish Company, Boston, and 

 myself,with guides, took a trip to Church- 

 ill lake, on the Allagash, St. John waters, 

 last fall. Had a delightful time; saw ten 

 moose and each killed a bull. Big game 

 is plentiful in Maine. 



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