NATURE'S REALM. 2 
our tin lures. I turned to reach for a fresh 
supply at the bow, but found my claim was 
preémpted. My moose bird had found the 
contents of the large box was to his liking, and 
he was gorging himself with the worms we had 
so carefully brought from the settlement. A 
couple of kindred spirits were watching him 
with approval from the alders along the old 
beaver dam, and doubtless envied him his 
nerve to secure a supper. Our bait was too 
scarce an article to allow him to continue his 
repast, and he was admonished to depart. His 
familiarity cost him his life, for one bright 
morning, as he was hopping along the trunk 
of a prostrate spruce in the camp clearing, a 
sportsman (?) just in from Boston shot him with 
a Winchester, and, to prove his deed of valor, 
suspended his body from the doorway of his 
cabin, from which place he was surreptitiously 
removed by loving hands, which, though not 
having the power of life to give, yet preserved 
his outline of form as a remembrance, sacred 
to one only, yet appreciated by those to whom 
Nature speaks in her varied language. 
I have had other but more brief experiences 
with this interesting bird of the north woods. 
He is a nomad. He claims no particular lo- 
cality, save the great evergreen forests, as his 
home. The impulse of migration is evidently 
an unknown experience to him. You camp 
down for the night and he quietly greets you, 
spending the night near by, that he may lose 
no time in gleaning over the remains of your 
breakfast. He is immediately interested in 
your preparations for departure, and, if he can 
spare the time from his search for a breakfast, 
will come down to the canoe to see you off, as 
well as to get an idea of the way you are head- 
ing, and, when you are greeted at your next 
camping place in a similar manner, you are at 
a loss as to whether it is the social individual 
of the previous night or a counterpart. 
The woods of Maine, dear to me by pleasant 
associations, would lose half their charm to me 
without this bird. He is in keeping with the 
sombre shadow of the spruce and hemlock. 
Persistent in his presence as the giant tree that 
rears its lofty form above your ‘“‘shake down,” 
yet as unobstrusive as its shadow, so closely 
does he harmonize with the spirit of the silent 
wilderness. 
It is not lost time for the deer hunter to make 
his acquaintance, as my experience has shown. 
Once, when at Norris bog, in the Penobscot 
wilderness, with two companions and a couple 
of guides from Greenville, we set out for cari- 
bou on the bog, each of my companions with a 
guide, leaving me to my own resources. I sat 
down on an old log at the edge of the bog and 
philosophically watched and waited. It was a 
dreary, damp day. No life was visible, save 
now and then the rapping ot a woodpecker on 
some dead spruce and a hawk that was flying 
in circles high up over the marsh. Then a 
moose bird came to the edge of the forest and 
started to fly across the bog. About 300 yards 
distant was a small, thick clump of hackma- 
tack, and, when over it, Mr. Jay plumped into 
its very midst. He was greatly excited about 
something, dodging and peering about on all 
sides, or flying in circles with that peculiar 
quavering flight. Thinking that an owl might 
be hid in the cover, I cautiously advanced to 
secure the specimen, but judge of my surprise 
when, within fifty yards, a good-sized buck 
broke cover and started across the bog. Good 
luck was in my hasty shot, for his antlers now 
look down from the top of the rack in our front 
hall. The jay seemed about as exultant as 
myself, and did not leave the clump of hack- 
matack until the deer was packed on the backs 
of our guides and we started for camp. It 
might be justice to myself to state here that the 
spilling of the trout chowder that evening was 
not an entire accident on my part, for I could 
not with a certainty identify the moose bird 
that was hovering about the camp, but chose 
to give him the benefit of the doubt, and en- 
joyed seeing him feast on the result of my 
avowed carelessness. 
