RECREATION. 



He is the chief factor in the de- 

 crease of the moose throughout the 

 Province. The others are hardly 

 worth mentioning. The bear, that 

 hangs on the flank of the forming 

 yard to bring down an unwary calf, is 

 really being trapped to extermination ; 

 the wolf is gone, and that oldtime 

 implacable foe, the Indian, has given 

 place to the equally merciless and 

 more degenerate provincial. Occa- 

 sionally the snarer is an otherwise 

 honest and well meaning peasant, 

 seeking but to increase a scanty food 

 supply, unmindful of the devastation 

 and misery he causes, or, if dimly 

 aware of it, finding sufficient excuse 

 in his necessity. The more sinister 

 type is the evil outgrowth of a de- 

 layed civilization. Ignorant and de- 

 praved, with no regard for existing 

 laws, he defies the better element of 

 his community. Fashioned in a simi- 

 lar mold of criminal instincts, he is 

 to be classed in the same category 

 with the dog poisoner and the mid- 

 night incendiary. I know not if he 

 ranges in the woods of Maine, in the 

 untouched wilderness of New Bruns- 

 wick or in remote Alaska, but wher- 

 ever he may be I appeal in behalf of 

 the moose, the grandest antlered ani- 

 mal this country possesses, for his ab- 

 solute and speedy suppression. No 

 pen of mine can fittingly describe the 

 horrors of his hideous calling. Noth- 

 ing but the actual evidence of the pa- 

 thetic struggle of the captive moose 

 can bring before one's eyes the true 

 enormity of this brutal practice. In 

 the apparent security and peace of the 

 wilderness, while all else in nature is 

 bright and full of inspiration, to meet 

 the bloody work of this heartless out- 

 law is to experience an overwhelming 

 revulsion of feeling. 



It is safe to presume that the snar- 

 er lives some distance from any con- 

 siderable settlement, usually just on 

 the borders of the moose country, 

 where he has secured a few acres of 

 crown land and built a rude shanty. 



He ekes out a poor existence, in a 

 shiftless manner, helping at a saw- 

 mill or working in a lumber camp, 

 trapping a little between jobs and 

 loafing a good deal. He tends his 

 snares as opportunity offers, sells his 

 moose meat at the settlement a score 

 of miles away, and gets drunk on the 

 proceeds. His various callings carry 

 him frequently into the woods, where 

 he gets many opportunities to mark 

 the range of the moose in all their 

 wanderings. Like Death, he has all 

 seasons for his own. He commences 

 operations before the summer has 

 fairly waned and continues till the 

 coldest winter weather freezes the 

 rope and renders the deadly slip-noose 

 powerless. The first warm days of 

 early spring see him again at work, 

 and it is only the heat of summer, 

 which destroys his meat, that causes 

 him to again desist for a short period. 

 About the first of August he locates 

 a bit of bog land, observes the run- 

 ways near the adjacent streams, 

 roughly calculates the number of 

 moose in the vicinity, and goes to the 

 settlement for a coil of stout i l /\. inch 

 Manila rope. He has no use for a 

 rifle, nor the money to buy one. With 

 no arm but his axe he seeks the local- 

 ity decided on. By the border of the 

 moose trail he selects a hemlock, cuts 

 off the top, to leave a stub standing 

 about 6 feet high, with a crotch at the 

 top. He next fells a stout sapling, 

 8 inches through at its thick end, per- 

 haps 15 feet in length, trims it of all 

 branches, and secures it in the crotch 

 of the stub, after the fashion or an 

 old well-sweep. He fastens the rope, 

 which terminates in a large slip- 

 noose, to the small end of the sweep, 

 props up the heavy butt, arranges the 

 noose in the moose trail, well covered 

 in moss, with a treadle in the center. 

 Pressure on the treadle releases the 

 sweep and the heavy butt falls to the 

 ground. As the smaller end rises in 

 the air the noose is drawn tight 

 about the moose's leg, well up, and 



