HUNTING BIG GAME IN NEW BRUNSWICK. 



JOHN S. M INTIRE. 



On arriving at Montreal, where I was to 

 meet my companion for a hunting trip to 

 New Brunswick, I received word that he 

 could not go, so 1 proceeded on the trip 

 alone. From Quebec I took the Inter- 

 colonial railway to Chatham, N. B., and 

 the Canada Eastern to Boiestown, where 

 I met my guide, E. W. Norard, and his 

 brother Ben, who was to be the cook and 

 helper. 



We had our outfit teamed up the South- 

 west Mirimichi river about 10 miles, then 

 transferred to canons, and went up the 

 river to a branch called The Sisters. From 

 there we sledded our outfit through the 

 .voods to the headwaters of The Sisters. 

 That country contains many small lakes, 

 in which trout of goodly size abound. Or- 



AMATEUR PHOTO BY JOHN S. MC INTIRE. 



ENOUGH FOR ONE DAY, 



dinarily it takes but a few minutes to pick 

 up enough for a breakfast. 



We made our main camp about 40 miles 

 from Boiestown. 



The country abounded in signs of moose, 

 but I could not get a shot at any, although 

 close to them several times. One time we 

 were coming back to camp just about dusk 

 after a long tramp and were within sight 

 of the tents when we heard a moose off to 

 our right and close to the trail. Edward, 

 the guide, tried to coax the moose out of 

 the thicket by gently sounding the birch 

 bark horns which he had with him. The 

 moose turned with a crash and ran toward 

 us, grunting all the time. We were crouch- 

 ing behind a pile of birch brush. The 

 moose kept coming until it seemed as if he 

 might at any moment jump over the brush 

 pile and appear before us. It was too 

 dark to shoot, so I slightly changed my 

 position, thinking I might see the moose 

 outlined against the sky. Just as I moved, 

 the moose turned, ran some distance back 

 into the woods and stopped, grunting 

 again as if he was not certain about it all; 

 but he was soon off, that time silently. 



The next morning we were out early, ex- 

 amining the tracks, and found it only 16 

 Steps from where we were behind the 

 brush pile to where the moose had been 

 standing. We could see where he had 

 barked the trees with his antlers when he 

 was first frightened. 



Several days after that I shot a caribou, 

 which I did not expect, as the immediate 

 locality was not considered good for cari- 

 bou. We were concealed on the edge of a 

 barren. Ed was trying to call a moose and 

 had sounded the horn several times. Ben, 

 who had my .30-30 rifle and was off to my 

 right, tried to shoot at something, but did 

 not seem to understand the rifle and could 

 not make it. This was because he had 

 not thrown the lever down far enough 

 to throw a cartridge into the chamber. 

 His imprecations on the rifle drew my at- 

 tention. I caught up my .30-40 rifle, and 

 running toward Ben was surprised to see 

 first the antlers of a caribou and then a full 

 view of him just as he ran around some 

 bushes. I remember what a pretty sight 

 it was as I fired. The caribou was leaning 

 at an angle as he made the turn, and the 

 rising sun glistened on his wet antlers. 

 The first shot took effect, but I imme- 

 diately took another, which dropped him. 

 When I got to him he was dead. The first 

 shot broke his shoulder and was sufficient 



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