May 31, 1888.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



367 



slow way over the sand to thein. It was freighted with 

 half a dozen back-countrymen eager for fish, who> seeing 

 this seine employed, halted near the treasure-seekers and 

 began negotiations with tbem. These were presently seen 

 preparing to make a haul, while the new-comers un- 

 hitched their horses and fastened them to the hinder end 

 of the wagon to eat their bait of hay in the shadow of the 

 maples. This acquisition of patronage by their rivals 

 further increased the ill-humor of the Canadians, and the 

 sight of a big jug taken from the wagon and passed 

 around, added bitterness to their feelings. 



"I tell ye wbat," said Joseph, thirstily watching the 

 passage of the social stoneware, "them ere fellers knows 

 haow tu go a fishin'." 



"Shaw!" said Sam, "nob'dy never fished no better nor 

 hunted no better for bein' full o' sperrits." 



"But," argued Joseph, "if they don't hev no luck, they 

 c'n hev some fun, an' they're kinder prepared to stair 1 

 disapp'intment, seems ? s \>ugh they wus. An' jes' look 

 at that ere feller 'at's got a holt on't naow, the one 'at 

 fetched you an' Peltier f'm the islan', liaint he? Sam 

 Hill ! won't he never le' go on't? I'll bate his mother 

 never licked him for a holdin' his breath. I don't b'lieve 

 she ever did, not so much as she'd orter anyway. It's a 

 dum'd pity to waste good sperrits a wettin' sech mean 

 sile. I c'n smell it clearn here an' it's ol' Medfo'd!" 

 he said sorrowfully as he sniffed the favoring north 

 breeze. 



"Oh! don't feel so bad, Joseph," said Sam, "like 'nough 

 't ain't nothin' but water arter all or mebby cider." 



"The' haint nob'dy dum'd fool 'nough tu fetch water 

 tu the lake, I don't b'lieve, an' if it's cider thet's better'n 

 water, the bes' way o' keepin' apples the' is. But 't ain't, 

 it smells julluck a mad bumble bee." 



"An' it's wus 'n a. nest full o' mad bumble bees when it 

 gits top on ye," said Sam, whose poor father had suffered 

 much froni'the touch of that which biteth like a serpent 

 and stingeth like an adder. 



"Bah gosh!" cried Antoine, who had been intently 

 scrutinizing the new arrival. "Ah'll bet you head dat 

 was One' Lasha hoi' Bob hawse! Yes seh! An' dat beeg 

 feller was dat long John Dark dat bought it w'en Ah'll 

 want bought it. Hoorab, Zhozeff, le's we'll go visit dat 

 hoi' hawse. Ah do' know 'f he'll ant give us introuduce 

 of dat jawg prob'ly, hein!" 



"Wal, ta' keer 'at you don't get tu well 'quainted. An' 

 naow you c'n go ahead an' git your tother hauls, an' I'll 

 gwnp this ere crik an' see 'f I c'n ketch a bass. I'm spil- 

 in' for a tussle wi' one on 'em," 



"Wal, naow, Sam well," said Joseph, "seems 's 'ough 

 you was foolish tu go off an' leave sech fishin' 's this for 

 the onsartinty o' not ketchin' nothin'. It don't seem 's 

 'ough you c'ld find no better fun 'n this." 



"It's a good 'nough way tu get fish, but 't aint no gret 

 fun fur me. The best part o' fishin' is lackin'. The' 

 haint no fair play 'baout it, an' it makes me feel kinder 

 mean." 



"Wal, naow, Sam well," said Joseph, pondering, while 

 he searched for his pipe in every pocket but the one it 

 was in, "seems 's 'ough 'f I was a fish, an' it nios' seems 

 's 'ough I was a drinkin' nothin' but water, 'at I'd livser 

 be swep' up kinder easy in a net wi' a hull lot for com- 

 p'ny in misery an' tu be fooled wi' a worm or suthin' wi' 

 a hook inside on't, an' then hev my jaw half tore off, jul- 

 luck ol' Darkter Wood pullin' a back tooth." 



"I wan't considerin' on't f'm the fish side," said Sam, 

 ' ' but fish does hev jes' much fun a f oolin' us as we du 

 them. Why I've seen an ol' Beav' Medder traout laugh 

 clean tu the end of his tail when he'd peeled my hook 

 bare naked, an' I b'lieve them 'ere 'Swagos is up tu jes' 's 

 much fun 's a traout is." 



"O, wal," said Joseph, who, having found his pipe and 

 got it between his teeth, was now exploring his pockets 

 with both hands for his tobacco, "if you're only a goin' 

 — Where in Sam Hill is my terbarker? — goin' to give the 

 fish some fun, go ahead; I guess they'll hev more'n you 

 will, but I d' know, mebby they won't be there. They 

 never be when I go a fishin' erless they stan' off an' gawp 

 like a fif? calf 't haint got no tet." 



Rowland E. Robinson. 



THROUGH MIRAMICHI WITH ROD 

 AND R1FLE.-III. 



ON the morning of Sept. 1, a sharp thunder storm of 

 the previous day having cooled and cleared to air, 

 a chill nor'wester swept down the river. 



Though the river dwindled much in size, it grew very 

 pretty above, no recent fires having defaced the green 

 woods. We passed several high blue hills or mountains, 

 one— Spider Mountain— being very beautifully shaped — 

 a symmetrical, ideal mountain. 



Fifteen miles above Portage Brook we pitched our tent 

 on a grassy plateau, lit a roaring fire— for there was a 

 most unreasonable frostiness in the air — and cooked our 

 primitive supper. About 7 P. M., Joe, having made a 

 horn of birch bark, gave a ringing call for moose. The 

 other man went on chopping; in fact, we violated all 

 rules of the art of calling, we should have lit no fire, and 

 should have made not the least noise; but we really did 

 not expect to meet moose till we got nearer the lakes and 

 were therefore exceedingly careless and off our guard. 

 Joe had thrown down his liorn and gone into the woods. 

 Suddenly I heard a splash and crackling of limbs, then 

 a low ivaugh, ivaugli, from a bull moose, much like the 

 noise of a bullfrog. Bat the scent of our fire, or the 

 noise we had been making, made him wary. No coax- 

 ing of Joe's could draw him nearer, although we heard 

 him move about once or twice. He was wading in a 

 small brook that joined the river opposite our tent, and 

 was hidden from our view by a thick growth of small 

 trees. About 12:30 Peter awoke us to say that he heard 

 great splashes. This no doubt was our moose moving 

 off, for in the morning we found his tracks going up the 

 brook. His track prints were enormous; he must have 

 been a monster moose. 



Calling through a birch bark horn or funnel is an 

 imitation of the voice of the cow. First the call begins 

 with a sort of cough, then it rises loud and sonorous, 

 falls again in cadence, becomes a subdued roar, again 

 rises strong and full, and ends abruptly. When a full 

 moon is rising over the lovely wilderness, and the white 

 mists are curling upward from meadow and river, and a 

 solemn silence has settled over the forest, to hear the 

 stillness broken by this lone Juliet, reaching after the 

 highest expression of feeling and passion that she knows 

 of, sending her trembling tones vibrating through the 



clear air, plaintive and expressive, fairly ringing across 

 the low cedar swamps— is something which when once 

 heard must be ever after remembered. The effect is much 

 heightened when one is fortunate enough to witness the 

 response, of the advancing bull. The only reply to the 

 imploring invitation he designs to make is a brusque 

 waugh, waugh, as much as to say "Pooh, pooh, I am 

 coming. Don't make such fuss and feathers." He will 

 not make himself too cheap by coming up all of a sudden, 

 but stops ever and anon to give evidence of his superior 

 strength and prowess, smiting down small trees by rising 

 on his hindlegs and descending with terrific force on bis 

 forefeet; or else striking heavily his strong horns against 

 some dead tree. So he saunters leisurely along, doubt- 

 less by such rude fashion displaying his regard, exciting 

 boundless admiration in the breast of the patient cow. 

 Only the young bulls come on noiselessly, either because 

 they are afraid of the old bulls catching them and giving 

 "it to them hot," or .because they have not a sufficient 

 sense of their value to the gentler sex and are less puffed 

 up with vanity and conceit. 



A friend of mine once heard a terrific contest dur- 

 ing the night in a small swamp near his tent between 

 two bull moose, dueling for a, cow, which stood near 

 waiting the result of the ba,ttle, and ready to bestow her- 

 self on the conqueror, on the principle that "none but 

 the brave deserve the fair." The swamp was terribly 

 torn up by the conflict; small trees were uprooted and the 

 yielding moss furrowed as if by the plow. At last one bull 

 considered that he had had enough, and slipped away 

 defeated, but with regret I have to record that the brave 

 victor did not live long to enjoy the spouse he had fairly 

 Avon, but fell a victim to my friend's unerring bullet. 

 Sometimes two bulls become tangled by the horns when 

 fighting and both die a miserable death. It is a remark- 

 able fact that if they hear a call miles away but once 

 they can guide themselves in a straight line to the spot 

 with unfailing accuracy. 



On the morning of Sept. 2 we struck camp early and 

 proceeded up the river, that here became very small and 

 shallow. Clothed with long luxurious wild grasses that 

 lined the edge, and with copses of hazel and alder bushes 

 that reached" out their branches to kiss the water lovingly, 

 the banks often resembled reaches of the Upper Thames; 

 but when the eye is withdrawn from the rich grasses and 

 bosky masses on the shores to rest on the stern, rugged 

 hills that rise in the background, the illusion is abruptly 

 dispelled. 



A few hundred yards from the camp the canoe swept 

 suddenly round a sharp curve in the river, when lo! 

 about 150yds. ahead of us on a small grassy island that 

 marked the end of a lovely little reach of river, standing 

 in the rank grass, was revealed an enormous cow moose, 

 gazing at us in a beautiful attitude of attention. Startled 

 at the sudden apparition of the canoe the animal had 

 reared her head, to attention, and plucked up her long 

 ears, looking truly graceful and majestic, the outline of 

 the form clearly defined against a background of thick 

 bushes. 



Joe and Peter stood as if turned to stone, watching the 

 huge beast. Not a syllable was uttered between us. I 

 raised the rifle and fired. My bullet fell rather low and 

 went through the lungs. Tracking the wounded animal 

 for about half a mile we found her in a dying state on the 

 steep side of a beautifully wooded mountain. We found 

 the flesh in fine condition, and stripping off the hide, 

 which was in very good form, left the useless portions 

 for the delectation of the bears, evidence of whose 

 presence in large numbers appeared around us by many 

 signs; 



We reached the lakes without further adventures, kill- 

 ing a few partridges and some bluewing and shield 

 ducks as we went along. At the outlet of the Upper 

 Lake we caught a number of silvery-sided trout, very 

 sweet eating, very much superior in flavor to the large 

 and coarse trout we had been killing below. 



The lakes, with the exception of the Upper Lake, which 

 is environed by a fine sierra of well-wooded hills, would 

 not strike Nova Scotians as remarkably beautiful, for 

 they are much inferior to their famous Rosignol chain of 

 lakes in Queen's county and dozens of others that could 

 be named; but they are rather celebrated in this part of 

 New Brunswick. They are well wooded to the very 

 brink with a tangled, impenetrable forest, and are much 

 resorted to by wildfowl. We saw numbers of hawks and 

 one golden eagle on the wing, and in the evening found 

 our camp visited by two immense, long-eared owls. 

 Musquash abounded and plashed about the lakes in great 

 numbers. Their houses, shaped like domes, were very 

 numerous on the shallow reed marshes. 



Whenever a camp was made here the familiar moose 

 birds or the Canadian jays flitted around us in great 

 numbers and acted as scavengers, gleaning up the scraps 

 of meat that were thrown out. They have remarkable 

 powers of mocking or imitating almost any noise. They 

 frequently whistle like a man, and mock all the forest 

 songsters in turn. Joe says if a dog is starving he will 

 not touch their flesh however temptingly cooked— on the 

 principle perhaps that one of the scavenger tribe is 

 sacred to the rest. 



On returning down stream w r e disturbed a bear in a 

 small cove or bayou, and heard him go splashing away, 

 but were too late to get a shot at him. 



Visiting our bear trap a mile below our camp, we were 

 delighted to find a fine bear lying prone in it, lately dead. 

 The coat was in fair order for this season of the year, but 

 does not assume that glossy rich appearance till the cold 

 weather sets in, when the fur is of much greater length. 

 The carcass was very fat, and was much enjoyed by the 

 Indians, but I did not attempt it. The skin Joe dried by 

 stretching with cords on a frame of stakes. We found 

 our provisions all right, but a bear had visited the tent 

 and eaten some large trout we had left drying on a cross 

 pole, bearing the supports quite to the ground by his 

 heavy weight. Doubtless in another night or two he 

 would have summoned up sufficient courage to break 

 into the tent. 



The episode gave another instance of Joe's superstition. 

 He had told me that morning he knew we would get 

 some heavy game to-day. "Why, Joe?" "Oh, sir, I felt 

 my back ache this morning and twitch, so I knew I was 

 going to carry a heavy load of meat. Besides that I 

 stepped on a stone that quivered and shook under my 

 foot, and that is a sure sign of game." 



We also had more bear stories of course. An Indian 

 without a gun was once chased by an infuriated she 

 bear, whose cub he had robbed. His only refuge was a 



hollow tree, down which he lowered himself with his 

 captive. The old bear descended bear fashion, tail first. 

 The Indian seized her by the stumpy tail, whereupon he 

 was drawn to the top, and giving the bear a thrust off, 

 remained at the summit of the stump, master of the situ- 

 ation. 



Joe was once hunting on the Mata-me-din, a tributary 

 of the Restigouche, that defines the boundary line be- 

 tween New Brunswick and Quebec. Now in the former 

 province there is a bounty of $3 for a bear snout, but 

 none in Quebec. Joe had caught an immense bear in a 

 large steel trap by the foot and found him marching 

 around shouldering the pole to which the trap was at- 

 tatched, biting savagely at the knots and boughs of trees 

 and inflicting terrible wounds on the defenseless wood. 

 Joe knew there was no bounty if he shot him there on 

 the Quebec side, so driving him across the brook he 

 despatched him on New Brunswick soil; an instance of a 

 sudden rise in the value of meat, for the bear by going a. 

 few yards raised his price by $3. 



Another clever Indian cut off the snouts of two large 

 Newfoundland dogs, and producing them before the 

 magistrate, demanded the bounty money. Being asked 

 for the customary oath he said: "Swear me in Indian, 

 me no understand English well." "All right," said the 

 unsuspecting justice. The wily red man then swore in 

 the Indian tongue that he had killed two large black 

 dogs, and pocketed the coin. 



When we returned to camp Joe said, "Everything all 

 right. No Indian devil been here?" 



"Indian devil ! Joe, what do you mean by that?" 



"Oh, sir; sometimes he gets in camp and throws every- 

 thing in the fire, and breaks up things in the tent. When 

 he goes away someti mes he leaves tracks like a man, 

 sometimes fox, and sometimes lucifee. Once my father 

 said he heard of a man catching him. He had taken a 

 lot of powder wrapped up in birch bark and put it in 

 the fire. When it went off it rolled his eyes round till 

 the whites were out and he could see nothing at all, The 

 man came in and catcbed him and tied him to a tree 

 outside the camp. Every day he licked lvim, morning 

 and evening, too. But after seven days Indian devil 

 run away and left tracks like a dozen men." 



A veritable Puck indeed. Probably Joe's version of an 

 old nursery tale that Indian mothers tell their children, as 

 English Jack the Giant Killer. Coco-Soo, orKat-Mous, is 

 the name of the Indian devil, and some such name does 

 duty for the wolverine — an animal now almost extinct. 

 Once he was caught (on the authority of Joe again) by 

 placing a man's hat on a Sharp upright stake; leaping 

 down on his supposed victim, he forthwith impaled him- 

 self. Sometimes he makes moose meat spoil; he wets the 

 powder in the gun; springs the bear traps; calls up the 

 bull moose by imitating the cow, and then laughs at him. 

 How much these tales remind one of Shakespeare's 

 impish creation. Arthur P. Silver. 



LAKE M1STASS1NI. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



The negotiations for the settlement of the boundary 

 between Ontario and Quebec, coupled with the action of 

 the Quebec Geographical Society, having aroused public- 

 interest in the region beyond the Height of Land and in 

 the true size of Great Lake Mistassini, an arrangement 

 was entered into between the governments of the Do- 

 minion and the Province of Quebec, represented by the 

 Geological Survey of the one and the Crown Lands 

 Department of the other, to send out an expedition in 1884 

 at joint expense, to ascertain the character of the country 

 and to scale the lake. 



Mr. John Bignell, a veteran land surveyor and explorer 

 whose life has been almost entirely spent in the w 7 oods, 

 was by mutual consent selected as the head of the expedi- 

 tion and formally appointed to the command of the sur- 

 vey of Mistassini. Of those placed under his instructions 

 one was a yotmg man employed by the Geological Survey 

 at Ottawa, who was sent out to make geological observa- 

 tions and collections. This young man was not a sur- 

 veyor, and therefore, before joining the expedition in its 

 work of exploration he was indentured to Mr. Bignell as 

 a student. I have before me a copy of an official com- 

 plaint made by the chief of the expedition in which he 

 brings charges against the young geologist of insubordi- 

 nation and disobedience, and of having finally caused the 

 failure of the expedition by his refractory conduct. In 

 endeavoring to rush ahead of his chief while the latter 

 was detained on an ordered survey of the Bersimits, the 

 student lost himself and would undoubtedly have perished 

 but for falling in with a Nascapee Indian named Neposhu, 

 who had come across his tracks while visiting his traps, 

 and knowing him to be out of his course, had followed up 

 and brought him to a halt, while the Indian himself 

 returned to Lake Onishtagau to await the arrival of the 

 main body of the expedition and direct it to the location 

 of the lost and erring one. This incident should be a 

 sufficient warning to deter any inexperienced explorer 

 from attempting to draw the trail that leads to Mistassini, 

 and illustrates the absurdity of depending upon existing 

 plans and maps of the route, all of which were at this in 

 possession of the lost student. The necessary time in 

 looking up and bringing back the geologist and his men 

 occupied a month, during which the stock of provisions 

 came near running out. and the season was so far ad- 

 vanced that the expedition lost the best part of a season's 

 operations. Arrived at Mistassini, Mr. Bignell's student 

 deserted him and returned to Ottawa against his orders, 

 in company with the couriers that were sent back to 

 civilization with dispatches via Lake St. John. He suc- 

 ceeded in his efforts to supplant his chief, and when he 

 returned to Mistassini in the following spring he was 

 armed with a letter of recall for Mr. Bignell, and accom- 

 panied by a party of five, having secured instructions to 

 continue himself the survey of the lake. 



The apprentice surveyor was none other than Mr. 

 A. P. Low, of Ottawa, and the result of his alleged ex- 

 ploration of Mistassini is the famous Low report and 

 map which has excited so much adverse comment and 

 critisism on the part of all Canadians who have inter- 

 ested themselves in the subject. 



From a communication addressed by Mr. Bignell to 

 the Geographical Society of Quebec at the request of 

 some of its members, I have been permitted to extract 

 the following criticism of Mr. Low's report: 



"His report that the great lake is about 100 miles long 

 naturally causae great surprise, as it is so entirely at 

 variance with all previously received information on the 



