June 3, 1886.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



367 



went back to the trail and continued to follow with the ut- 

 most caution. Late in the afternoon, as I cautiously peered 

 over a rising, I caught a glimpse of what looked like a deer 

 lying in the scrub beyoud. 1 watched for a few moments 

 until a slight movement of the ear dispelled all doubts. T 

 tried in vain to get nearer, so having guessed the distance at 

 a hundred and fifty yards, I put up the rifle. But oh! how 

 terribly the muzzle wabbled, and I laid the weapon down 

 with a groan— it's no use. But. after waiting a few minutes 

 I tried again, and finding my hand now steady, fired. The 

 deer jumped up aud stood looking about. I fired again and 

 again, and then as he moved off I wasted a fourth charge. 

 My first shot struck A, the second B, the third 0, the 



fourth D. If B had come first, I had won my deer; but as 

 it was, he went off gaily bounding. I ran oh the track for 

 ten miles. "While rapidly ascending a hill I stumbled and 

 had the misfortune to give my knee a severe blow on a pro- 

 jecting root. At night 1 reached home completely exhausted, 

 after having traveled thirty miles on foot. 



On the next, the fourteenth day, I went again with Duff 

 to where I had quitted the trail the day before. The locality 

 was a sort of corner with a way in and a way out. I said to 

 my companiou, "Wait until I cross to the exit, then you 

 close in aud drive them past." 

 When I arrived at my ap- 

 pointed station there were two 

 deer tracks just gone out, and 

 Duff's track after them. I 

 called him pet names for being 

 so hasty, and thought, "Well, 

 if you are going to" go tearing 

 off in that mad way, you can 

 go: I'll wait here." So I 

 looked out a good warm camp- 

 ing place, and, having the 

 kettle and provisions on my 

 shoulders, soon made myself 

 comfortable and lay by the fire 

 all day. In the evening I 

 took a short walk and came 

 across Duff doing the same. 

 On questioning him, I found 

 that he had seen a track ahead 

 of him which he supposed was 

 mine (really that of an Indian), 

 and thought, "Well, if he is 

 goiug to go off in that style, 

 it's uo use of me following;" 

 so he looked out a camp and 

 lay by the fire all day, on the 

 same hill, and only two hun- 

 dred yards from where I was 

 "foxing" in the same way. 



Altogether I have now trav- 

 eled 265 miles (215 on foot), 

 have been out fourteen days, 

 have had twelve shots at deer, 

 have had both my feet frost- 

 bitten, have injured my knee 

 and lost weight as well as the 

 confidence of friends, who be 

 lieved I could do anything I 

 undertook, and still have not 

 killed my deer. 



My knee grew worse, so I lay up for a week, but resolved 

 to be a better shot when next I went forth. I made a deer 

 out of wood and set it up 250 yards away from the door and 

 blazed away at it until I was able to hit the mark three out 

 of five times. And then 1 longed to be free again ; but my 

 knee was still very painful. I felt like a hawk with a broken 

 wing; but knowing the danger of overworking a strained 

 kuee, I stayed at home for the full week. This was the only 

 time when I almost repented having said I would fetch out 

 a deer, the only time when I felt my confidence shaking. 

 Lying still went hard against the grain, for the only athletic 

 exercise that 1 delight and excel in is this fast traveling. So 

 far, I have not met with one that I cannot leave behind. 

 Duff is the fastest man with whom- 1 have hunted, and 

 often I have to wait for him to catch up. (L'm bragging 

 now.) 



Fifteenth day. — At length feeling my knee fully recovered 

 I once more started off, and my friends smiled derisively as 

 they saw "young hopeful" start hunting again. 



In the hills I met Doff with three others. Altogether now 

 five in number, we set off in line to beat the woods. Par- 

 tridges and hares enough came to hand, but I carried the 

 rifle and cared for none of these things. The line had trav- 

 eled about three miles, when I struck a fresh deer trail; this 

 was late in the afternoon, but away I went on it until dark. 

 Mr. Gordon Wright had arranged to drive in with the sleigh 

 and so save us walking home. At the time appointed all 

 were at the tryst but myself; all were agreed that it was no 

 use waiting for that fellow ; he had likely struck a trail and 

 might be twenty miles away. So they drove home and left 

 me. They seem rather to pity me for imposing on myself 

 such long, toilsome tramps, but none of them realize what a 

 glorious enjoyment it is to me to feel myself so independent 

 in my strength. Ten miles is to me now no more than half 

 a mile to most persons. 1 can Tun all day and come home 

 fresh ; and always when alone in these lonely places I feel 

 running through me so strong a gush of glorious exhilaration 

 that no trouble in my mind can stand before it; and since a 

 man's troubles are nowhere but in his mind, my troubles 

 all are blotted out and my happiness complete. 



"Why do I undertake these toilsome, fruitless tramps?" 

 Surely it is worth it to be perfectly happy, to foreknow that 



dim land of the idealist's dream, where sorrow is unknown 

 and whence misery is banished forevermore. The trees are 

 riven around me by the intense cold; my food is spent; the 

 farmers on the plain are glad to stay indoors, but the feeling 

 of this place, the delight of freedom and the fire of health 

 suffice to keep me all aglow ; and so I can afford to smile at 

 my companions, driven home in the sleigh, shivering yet 

 pitying me. 



A blood red sun was sinking when I crossed Kennedy's 

 Plain, the snow was dyed red, a golden moon w T as rising 

 through the eastern pink. The endless forest of poplars 

 stood "with their marble columns supporting a wide purple 

 roof of thickly interlacing branches. It was so perfectly 

 beautiful and so unmarred by the settler's axe that I almost 

 wished I were not soon going home to Ontario. Then as I 

 went on more glad still after what I had seen, I more than 

 once fairly shouted for very wildness. The road lay for 

 three miles through a dense wood, and as I was nearly 

 through I thought I heard my comrades shouting hack to 

 me. I was surprised as it was now night and late; I made 

 the woods echo again with a shout, and then listened for the 

 response. Along melancholy howl, and another, and another 

 and another. "Wolves" I thought, and I micmicked their 

 howling and noted by the sound that they were gathering 

 together, doubtless hunting. Then as they responded to my 

 howls, I noticed that they were rapidly coming nearer. 

 "H'm," I thought, "It's me you're hunting, is it ?" I was just 

 leaving the woods and as the sounds bore down nearer on 

 my trail, I turned and stood perfectly still, thinking: "Well, 

 if those wolves are foolish enough to attack a man armed 

 with a Winchester rifle, just let them come on." And so I 

 waited. Nearer and nearer they came until I heard them at 

 the edge of the timber only fifty yards away. They must 

 have seen me then; there was a low growl, a snarl or two, 

 and all was still. I heaid them no more, but after a little 

 turned and went on my way. 



Next day I tramped twenty-five miles alone, with the 

 usual luck. On the next (the 17th day) I went in a new di- 

 rection, into the spruce and tamarac swamp. On the road 

 inl had the satisfaction of killing a hare, and of snipping off 

 the heads of three partridges, with the rifle, thereby getting 

 the best possible assurance that my aim was becoming true. 

 When well into the swamp, 1 came across the tracks of four 

 moose, but it was too late to follow them so I returned. 



A GREAT RUSTY RET) BEAST CHARGING THROUGH THE BRUSH, 



What a fascination there is about tracks in the snow; what 

 endless stories one will read and learn from the telltale snow; 

 there is something fantastic about the thought that just at 

 the other end of that row of dots is the beast that made 

 them, and it is only a question of time for one to overtake 

 it. The record of every movement is so perfect that it affects 

 one most strangely. I remember long ago writing down a 

 day among the tracks, at a time when I was less accustomed 

 to them, and therefore more impressed than now. Here it 

 is in doggerel for which the writer's then youthfulness must 

 be the apology : 



The white owl sits on the low snow drift and thinks that the time 

 flies slow, 



Ere the door of the shanty is opened, and forth to the trapping we go. 



Over the rolling prairie deep iu snow, over the highest ridge into the 

 poplar scrub below, 



Reading as I run the tale of the tracks in the snow. Here runs the 

 straight fox trail; 



Here one foot raised, he sniffed the light wind I trow; 



There's where he struck the hare track fresh, and the fox tracks fol- 

 lowing go— 



And I think of the meeting those trailers will have, a mile away or so. 

 Now here are the chains of the grouse's trail, they turn and they wind 

 to and fro; 



And I crouch low down and peer around, for new are the tracks in 

 the snow. 



Then I crawl along, till with a loud whirr the pack for safety go. 

 Save two that fall at the "bang" of the gun and flecked with blood is 

 the snow. 



(Still keeps the owl, his distance safe, but folio ws now fast, now slow). 

 Now here is the place where a poisoned bait was thrown a few hours 

 ago, 



A wolf has smelt it in the wind, and traced and swallowed it too; 

 Here 'twas grioing his vitals and choking his breath; that wolf skin, 

 is mine, Oho! 



See! he went a few steps more, and staggered again, but no I 

 The wild hardy life of the wolf gives strength to conquer this deadly ( 

 foe. 



And soon grow the steps more steady and strong, till he's bounding 



away o'er the snow. 

 (Still the white owl following far behind, winnows over the ground 



full low). 



Now here, is the place of another bait, and fox tracks come and go, 

 And the bait is gone and the fox is gone, but with shortened steps and 

 slow. 



I follow and scan as I onward run, and take in the tale of the snow, 

 To the nearest cover, the dotted guide, and just by the bushes, lol 

 There's a yellow fur— See ! the craf fy beast is stark and dead in the 

 snow. 



From a high limb the yellow eyes take in the scene below, 

 And bide till the carrion furless lies and is left alone in the snow; 

 And bide till the hunter takes up his spoils, and takes up his gun to go. 

 This is the chance that he longed for so when he followed me over 

 the snow. 



Time was wearing on, my deer was not yet killed, and I 

 feared that the season would close ere I had fulfilled my 

 vow, therefore I resolved to lose no more time in returning 

 each evening. So taking three days' provisions in a sleigh, 1 

 drove to the bush with Mr. Gordon Wright. On the road we 

 called at Mr. James Duff's, and having added his provisions, 

 he joined us. After a two hour's drive we came to a sandy 

 hill in the woods, it was covered with spruce trees, and well 

 suited for a camp. In the center of the thicket we cleared a 

 space, and then made a wind screen of spruce boughs. 

 Gordon then left us. 



After having dined we set out for where I had seen the 

 fresh moose tracks two days ago. These we followed, and 

 after a tedious tramp of about two miles, they led us into a 

 dense poplar bush. Presently we came on the place where 

 they had lain all night, and the signs began to be fresher, 

 but they had so crossed and re-crossed their trail that it be- 

 came almost impossible to follow or distinguish the most 

 recent tracks. 



After wasting about three hours in fruitlessly trying to 

 pick up the trail in short detours of a hundred yards or so, 

 we agreed that it was unlikely they would continue in this 

 locality where we had tramped so long and so often made 

 signal whistles to each other, our best plan would be to make 

 a circuit about the whole grove to pick up the trail where it 

 went out. This involved a journey of fully two miles, and 

 it was not completed when night came on. Accordingly we 

 left off after having gone around three sides, without striking 

 the trail, and returned to the camp. 



Nineteenth clay. — I slept well on the ground and awoke 

 refreshed about midnight. Duff, being less used to roughing 

 it, did not sleep much, but kept 

 up the fire and wished for day. 

 So when I awoke, we agreed 

 that it must be near morning, 

 and we set to and made a 

 hearty breakfast. After long 

 waiting in vain for dawn, I 

 went to sleep again, and must 

 have slept six hours before the 

 real dawn came, when once 

 again we made a good break- 

 fast. 



We set off as soon as there 

 was light enough for us to see 

 the trail, and in half an hour 

 found where the moose had 

 left the heavy bush. Then 

 came a long tramp over and 

 often through sloughs, for 

 moose, unlike jumping deer, 

 have no fear of a bog, although 

 they evidently distinguish be- 

 tween the willow sloughs 

 which are deep, but safe, "be- 

 ing frozen, and the. birch 

 sloughs, which look shallow, 

 but are grassy and exceeding- 

 ly treacherous. 



Fresher and fresher grew 

 the signs; more and more 

 cautiously we advanced, step- 

 ping in the tracks of the moose 

 t) avoid the crunching of the 

 snow. Now we felt sure we 

 were closing on our quarry; 

 presently the wailing of the 

 moose-bird fell on my anxious 

 ear and struck my* ear with 

 " prophetic force. I glanced 



at my hunting companion, 

 but he did not seem to un- 

 derstand. Then on ahead of us we heard a twig snap; 

 the suspense was becoming oppressive, but with the utmost 

 caution we continued to crawl on the tortuous chain of 

 tracks, which still wound about as the moose had been 

 browsing. Alas! we were making a fatal mistake. So far 

 we had done all that old hunters could have done. Now that 

 we were within two hundred yards of the beasts, and since 

 there was no wind, we should have separated and gone, one 

 to the right and the other to the left; then, since we might 

 have known they would not go back on their own trail, we 

 would have them compassed about on three sides and so 

 stand the best chance of seeing them. But no, we tried to 

 go on as before; then an unlucky stick cracked, and 1 thought 

 I heard sounds of motion ahead of me. Another ten minutes' 

 crawl proved it to be true. There the snow showed plainly 

 where the three giant browsers had fallen into line, and gone 

 off at a pace which would put to shame the long, hard gallop 

 of the wolf, or would leave even the swift, untiring deer- 

 hound far behind. 



Without caution now but still hopefully, we started rapidly 

 upon the trail. Previously we had trodden in the moose 

 tracks, now it took two springs to cover the space between 

 each of them. 



For a few minutes we hastened on when, far on ahead of 

 us we heard a faint "bang, bang," two shots. We stopped 

 and gazed blankly at each other, perfectly disgusted to think 

 that we had driven our moose right into the fire of some 

 other hunters, probably Indians. 



Then dejectedly we started again, hoping that it was not 

 so. But suddenly the idea struck me, the chances are the 

 moose will only be turned by the shots, and then they will 

 come back on their tracks. Jim agreed with me, so we then 

 proceeded more cautiously. Scarcely two minutes had 

 elapsed before I saw in a clearer space some two hundred 

 yards ahead, a great rusty red beast charging through the 

 bush toward us. Into the snow I dropped like a shot; my 

 companion saw nothing but dropped because I did. On 

 came the whirlwind of red hair, his body swaying inward 

 as he rounded the trees, like a racer turning a corner. Nose 

 up, horns back, mane erect, a vision of tremendous brute 

 strength as he dashed on toward us with that speed which is 

 his greatest safety. 



