THE MOOSE OF MINNESOTA 
_ The Deer-Hunters’ Hope 
BY CHAUNCEY L. CANFIELD 
of hunters who make an 
annual pilgrimage each 
fall into the wilds of 
northern Minnesota in 
quest of deer, it is safe 
to say there is not one 
but has lurking deep 
within his innermost self a longing, nay, a 
consuming passion, to meet a bull moose. 
Each day dawn, as he goes forth, the deer 
hunter takes with him that hope, which 
counsels extra caution. How his heart leaps 
as a twig snaps under his foot, seeming to 
sound to his wrought-up nerves as loud as a 
pistol shot. A movement in the brush 
freezes him to the spot. But a deer steps, 
out instead of the expected moose. He 
raises his rifle, but no, that would frighten 
out of the country the moose he is sure he 
will meet at the next turn. So the deer 
departs in peace. 
He finds fresh tracks. Even he, with his 
city-dulled senses, knows that they are 
fresh, very fresh. If he had only been a little 
sooner on the spot, he tells himself. Away 
on the newly found trail he goes; hour after 
hour he rushes along. In his excitement he 
does not notice the gathering gloom of 
nightfall. He stops and looks about him. 
Lost !—what a world of anxiety sweeps over 
him at the realization. If he is of an 
optimistic turn, as all true sportsmen are, 
he accepts the situation philosophically, 
builds the ever-cheerful fire, tightens his 
belt in lieu of supper, and awaits the dawn. 
And so he struggles on to the end of the 
season, never realizing that the noises he 
makes in his progress, though unnoticed 
by himself, are of cyclonic proportion to the 
moose and send him off on his distance- 
eating pace that soon carries him out of 
the danger zone. 
Out of the thousands in Minnesota to 
ae wy UT of all of the hundreds 

obtain license tags last year, not one out of 
each hundred used his tag on a moose, 
though that does not mean an unusual 
scarcity of the animals in this State. I am 
rather of the opinion that it is the lack of 
ability on the part of the majority who hunt. 
After a good many years of hunting big 
game and of studying the habits of wild 
creatures in groups, I have come to look 
upon the moose as worthy of the skill of 
the cleverest hunter. There are, of course, 
animals the pursuit of which involves 
greater exertion and hardship, such, for 
instance, as the bighorn of the Western 
mountains. Yet, leaving out of account 
such times as in midsummer, when the 
moose seeks protection from the insects by 
taking to the water, and when yarded up in 
winter, surrounded by deep snow, he is 
truly a noble and difficult animal to stalk. 
Something of the history and habits of 
this most interesting animal may not come 
amiss. The name moose is_ originally 
American. It is an Algonquin Indian name 
meaning “‘browser”’ or ‘‘wood-eater.” Our 
moose is the true elk of the Old World, cor- 
responding to the Scandinavian elk of the 
present time. Somehow, the name elk was 
applied by the early English settlers to the 
wapiti, which corresponds to the red deer 
of Europe. ‘This left the true elk to draw a 
native name, which it did very appropriately 
in the word moose. 
The moose (Alces americanus) is an 
animal of which all American sportsmen — 
should feel proud. It is not only the 
largest deer of America, but is the largest 
animal of the deer tribe, living or extinct, 
in all the world. That such an animal, such 
a desirable trophy, has not gone the way of 
the bison, but still roams the Northern 
woods in its wild freedom, speaks volumes 
for its astuteness and sagacity, keenness of 
scent and hearing and general fitness to 
