446 RECREATION 
look out for itself. It is entirely a browsing 
animal, living on such fare as the tender 
sprouts of the hemlock, birch, alder, spruce, 
willow, etc. In Minnesota its winter food 
is lichens, ground hemlock and white cedar. 
The rutting season is from about the 
middle of September to the middle of 
October. When the sap begins to flow, the 
cow betakes herself to some bit of an island 
in the heart of a dismal swamp, and there 
in the month of May the calf is born, about 
the most homely, unsightly babe born of all 
the wood folk. They grow very rapidly, 
weighing a hundred pounds at four weeks 
old. The calf remains with the mother for 
about ten months, when she deserts it. 
Before the time of the game law, by far 
the easiest and most successful time to hunt 
the moose was just before the rut. At that 
time the antlers were in good condition and 
the moose were still haunting the lakes and 
marshes, feeding on the succulent lily pads, 
watercress, moose maple, etc. It was a very 
easy matter, requiring little skill, but 
silence, to glide along in the twilight or 
moonlight, keeping the canoe in the shadow 
of bordering trees, until, when rounding a 
point, the great amorphous bulk of a moose 
loomed large in the middle distance. If old 
at the game, it was no trick to steal forward 
each time his head went under water in 
search of the tender roots, until within easy 
range. Unless it gets the scent, a moose, 
like most animals, pays little heed to motion- 
less objects. Thus I have advanced until 
forced to stop for safety’s sake, for a bull 
moose is not an animal to be trifled with. 
I know of two young men who, only last fall, 
paid for their curiosity with a narrow 
escape. It was before the season opened. | 
They were out at dusk in their canoe, 
floating along some yards from shore, and 
on rounding a point saw a moose a short 
distance ahead. They were unarmed, but 
felt no fear, for they expected every second 
that the beast would turn and make off into 
the woods. Nearer and nearer they glided, 
until with the rush of an avalanche he was 
upon them. There was nothing for it but: 
to dive into the water and swim, which they 
did, reaching safety on the opposite bank. 
After smashing the frail canoe into pieces, 
the moose calmly went ashore and disap- 
peared in the woods. 
It is the irony of fate that the woods 
seem full of moose before the hunting 
season opens. I know of another instance 
that happened last fall, when a moose hung 
around a camp for a night and part of a day, 
showing absolutely no fear. The man was 
practically a prisoner in his own camp, as 
he did not wish to shoot the animal at a 
time when he could not ship it. 
The much-talked-of though not very 
sportsmanlike mode of securing a moose, 
by calling with a birch-bark horn in imita- 
tion of the cow, has its stanch devotees, 
especially where the season opens before 
the rut. To me one of the mysteries of the 
great woods is how such a sagacious, keen- 
eared, intelligent animal as the moose can 
by deceived by such a palpable fraud. I 
have seen them come to a call that had, to 
my ears, not the slightest resemblance to 
the bellow of a cow moose. The successful 
sound made by most guides is a long drawn- 
out call, something like the bugling of an 
elk (wapiti) though in no way resembling 
any sound I ever heard made by a moose. 
The only conclusion I have come to 
(though one is unsafe in advancing an 
Opinion in the case) is that during the rut 
the bulls are wrought by their fiery passion 
to such a state of frenzied excitement that 
all sense of caution and regard for safety 
becomes subservient to their one desire, and 
any sound that in the slightest intimates 
the possible presence of a cow or a rival 
acts as a vital stimulant to the high-strung 
nerves, and they come with a rush. Those 
that come with caution or swing around to 
get the wind are usually old fellows, I 
imagine, who have been deceived before, 
but still cannot resist the temptation to 
make sure. 
Aside from the mere killing, which is . 
the simplest part of this performance, there 
is a charm, a fascination in the environ- 
ment, that makes nights thus spent long 
remembered. [remember one in particular. 
The full October moon hung deep orange 
just over the wooded hills that rimmed the 
lake. On a little shadowy point that jutted 
out into the water we drew up our canoe 
and seated ourselves in an easy attitude of 
watchfulness. My companion gave the long 
call. Save for the echo of the birch horn, 
which rebounded from the distant hills, the 
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et) wm aw ary 
