May 19, 1887.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



369 



called to order by Ms wife. After testing his morals and 

 distressing his wife for some time, we retired. On the 

 next morning and evening we had no luck, but got one 

 answer from our old friend in apparently the same place 

 and with the same results. C. and I tried to work toward 

 him, but found that getting along a barren by moonlight 

 is no easy matter. So we sat down on a boulder, lighted 

 our pipes and listened. We discovered that the happy 

 family included a calf. Every now and then we could 

 hear the bull utter a sbarp bark (the noise they make 

 when angry) and drive off the cab , whose plaintive cry 

 would be followed by that of the cow, trying to make 

 peace between the foster father and her young. 



The following afternoon was devoted to a stroll in the 

 woods. In the evening, after a short nap, we determined 

 to try a call a little further from camp. When we reached 

 the rocky barren we had selected for the operation M. 

 went to work, but nothing came of it. To relieve the 

 monotony a small owl perched itself on the limb of an 

 old rainspike and surveyed us generally, as if expecting 

 us to explain our presence in that solitude at such an 

 hour. C. made a noise like a mouse. The little owl 

 turned his head first to one side and then the other, as if 

 to locate the exact spot. He suddenly swooped noiselessly 

 so close to C.'s head as to almost make him lose his bal- 

 ance on the boulder where he sat. 



I now fancied that I heard something like an answer 

 from the woods, so I made the boy stop throwing pieces 

 of granite at the owl on account of the noise it made. 

 We tried the call again. An unmistakable reply was re- 

 turned. C. and I went down the hill about 100yds. and 

 intrenehed ourselves behind some boulders. The boy had 

 followed us unperceived. On came the gallant beast 

 slashing through the trees, answering frequently and 

 making straight for us without stop or hesitation. We 

 both felt certain of a big fellow, he seemed so bold. As 

 he came nearer and nearer the muscles of my leg began 

 to quiver from the efforts I was making not to move. 

 Before I lost control of them I saw the animal, about 

 15yds. off, emerge into the moonlight, and with head and 

 neck outstretched stand there like a statue. So quietly 

 did he come that I began to doubt my senses, but not for 

 long. I saw C, 8yds. to my right, raise his rifle; the white 

 tips on his sight glimmer for a moment, then came the 

 report. We rushed forward, scared at each other's 

 shadows; for it does not do to close with a wounded 

 moose, one blow of whose forefoot will stop your hunting 

 forever. Here was no such risk. A few paces down the 

 hill we found him; the bullet had done its work well. 

 The jugular vein was severed and the shoulder broken. 

 We lit a fire of birch bark, and by the light of the moon 

 skinned and cut up our game. 



We returned to camp pretty hungry. While some 

 marrow bones were cooking, M., in answer to the sur- 

 prise I expressed at the animal's coming so close after the 

 noise the boy made, told me that a moose does not mind 

 a noise so much, and will often go toward where he hears 

 the sound of branches breaking, because he thinks it is 

 made by others of his species feeding, frisking or fight- 

 ing. But when closer he advances so cautiously and 

 quietly that when he finds out the lay of the land he can 

 retreat without betraying his presence. But one whiff of 

 a human being will set him running for hours in an oppo- 

 site direction/ Their sense of smell is so acute that they 

 detect you half a mile away, if to windward and with 

 open ground between you. To call with success there 

 must be no wind, as, when he hears the sound, the bull, 

 unless very big or very careless, wfil try to get to leeward 

 of you. The reason C. and I worked well ahead of the 

 caller was to try to meet the bull before he got too cau- 

 tious. When a man ca'ls alone, the moose will some- 

 times, after answering once or twice, remain still and 

 creep close after the hunter has given him up, as shown 

 by the fresh moose tracks in the morning. An Indian 

 once showed me a hollow tree where a man, after calling 

 until worn out, had gone to sleep, and awakened in the 

 morning to find the fresh tracks of a moose close to his 

 feet. 



At dawn the next day we sent the boy for the team, 

 and as the morning was too fine to waste gave a few calls, 

 but soon desisted and returned to breakfast. Leaving C. 

 in camp, M. and I finished cutting up the moose of the 

 day before, and had hardly returned when we heard a 

 shot, followed by another not far from the strip of woods. 

 We wondered what it meant, but an hour later we heard 

 a loud halloo directly south of our camp. After several 

 minutes who should'appear but Tom, our Indian driver, 

 with a small boy on one shoulder and an old Queen Anne 

 musket on the other. After making him welcome it oc- 

 curred to us to ask him whether he had done anything in 

 the way of sport. He calmly told us that he had that 

 day killed a moose and did not feel quite sure of finding 

 the carcas, though he had blazed the trees around the 

 spot. We all started out to help him, but it was like look- 

 ing for a needle in a haystack. M. , who had all the time 

 advised a search in the opposite direction to the one Tom 

 was leading us in, now as a last chance led the way. 

 Whether it was luck or judgment I cannot pretend to say, 

 but we soon found the moose in a grove of young spruce 

 trees, and a monster it was. It must have been the king 

 of the forest who had chased M. out of the swamp. Its 

 horns were quite as large and its neck measured as much 

 around as a barrel. C. bought the head and horns on the 

 spot and afterward sold them for a large sum of money. 



All things have an end. -It was time to turn our steps 

 toward home. After breakfast and a pipe in the morn- 

 ing, each of us, pack on back and rifle in hand, bade adieu 

 to our temporary home and began the retreat. During 

 our tramp across the caribou bog we disturbed a moose. 

 So near did we come that a small branch he had trodden 

 on in his flight was slowly rising to its normal position. 

 We came soon afterward to a small lake and pitched our 

 camp. In the morning M. tiied his skill. After the 

 woods had rung with his plaintive cries for a few moments, 

 we heard an answer from across the lake. The animal 

 seemed very determined and energetic, answering every 

 few seconds. C, and I pursued our usual tactics, went to 

 the edge of the woods, and lying down among the bushes 

 waited eagerly for the moose to swim or wade the lake, 

 a sight we might never be able to see again. To oar in- 

 tense chagrin, his last challenge sounded as if he had 

 tried to check it in his throat; we heard him no more. 

 M. told me a light breeze had sprung up, and the moose 

 must have got our scent across the lake. 



We traveled all the next day and camped at night in a 

 grove of young spruce trees. After supper the ram came 

 down in torrents. The storm continued all night, but we 



managed to get a little sleep at intervals, awakened, per- 

 haps, by a gust of wind that caused the tree roots to rise 

 up under us and ourselves to wonder whether we were to 

 bo catapulted into the air, killed by a falling tree, or blown 

 up by the cartridges under our heads. 



The next night was passed in M.'s house. The follow- 

 ing morning, after buying for a mere trifle some horns of 

 the moose and caribou M. had in his house, we shook his 

 honest hand', asked him to look us up if he came to Hali- 

 fax, and with a good-bye to "the family," started in 

 Tom's wagon for the steamer. During the drive we shot 

 about twenty partridges. C. and I added up the expenses 

 of the trip, and found to our astonishment that it would 

 be covered by a ten pound note. 



We arrived late in the afternoon at Halifax, where the 

 horns and partridges on the box of our cab attracted a 

 good deal of attention. One of the. newly joined was 

 anxious to know whether we had lulled all the moose the 

 horns indicated ourselves, and seemed relieved when we 

 told him "No." 



There was a "wet" dinner at the mess that evening, 

 and I have a faint, a very faint, recollection of sending 

 for M.'s moose call and trying to imitate some of his 

 notes upon that instrument. My comrades finally seized 

 me, chaired me in the antlers and in that way carried 

 me up to bed. Thus ended the first and not the least suc- 

 cessful of my many moose hunts. Cecil Francklyn. 



DELAWARE BAY IN 1862. 



AS I sit in my easy chair, with my right-hand friend 

 Forest and Stream in my lap, the perusal of its 

 always interesting pages sets memory to work recalling 

 the many and various trips I have enjoyed in pursuit of 

 what to' me is the most fascinating of all sport, duck 

 shooting. While my thoughts run in this strain, it occurs 

 to me that some of the young sportsmen of the present 

 day, living on the borders of the noble old Delaware, may 

 be interested in an account of a ducking trip in the waters 

 of the bay away back in the 'sixties, before the days of 

 breechloaders, at least before they were in common use ; 

 so I copy a log of one of my trips. 



Tuesday, Nov. 19, 1862. — Louis S., Amos B., the Com- 

 modore; Captain V., a noted Delaware River yacht sailor; 

 Captain Billy G., a noted bayman and duck shooter from 

 Tuckerton, N. J. ; our boat keeper and cook, George, and 

 your humble servant, even at that time, although a young 

 man, an old duck shooter and water rat, left Riverton 

 (just above Philadelphia)-for a cruise down Delaware Bay 

 in the good yacht Nettle, stored with a plentiful supply 

 of all the good tilings we could think of. 



This trip was moi'e for a cruise than to make shooting a 

 specialty, the writer and his regular party of friends, 

 who were all duck cranks, having already made three 

 trips in the bay and having had splendid sport. The log 

 says: Wind N.E., weather clear. Made Christiana 

 Creek (Wilmington) at 6 P. M., where we made harbor 

 for the night. 



Wednesday, 20th. — Left the yacht for Wilmington, via 

 yawl, for sundries which we found we had forgotten to 

 put on board in our haste to start yesterday, among them 

 a barrel of ale. The crew of yawl, on their return, gave 

 us a glowing account of some of the inhabitants of the 

 good city of Wilmington, especially of the charms of a 

 young lady who waited on them at the baker's; and then 

 they sold us by pretending that they had forgotten to buy 

 a spigot for the ale barrel, but finally producing it from 

 one of their pockets. We attempted to put it in place, 

 and — oh, murder ! split it in the attempt. With the help 

 of a piece of marlin repaired spigot. Ale pronounced 

 good, very good XXX. 



Weather very foggy all the morning, and the one thing- 

 needful to all sailing craft minus. Fog lifted at noon 

 and light breeze came out from S.W. All hands piped 

 on deck to make sail. Wind ahead, light and baffling; 

 fog again on the increase until it a,nd the night shut out 

 everything except Reedy Island, between which and Port 

 Penn we dropped our mudhook. 



After stowing sails the bell (companionway hatch hasp) 

 sounded for supper, of beefsteaks, sausage, bread, butter, 

 coffee, etc., etc., well cooked and served by our cook and 

 factotum George. Several games of euchre, interspersed 

 with a little boat talk and a heap of "blowing" generally, 

 with hot toddies all round, finished the evening. Did not 

 turn in until late, but soon , a snore to port, then one to 

 starboard, and one astern from our poor half -starved dog 

 Wis (so fat he could hardly hunt) announced that the 

 party were trying to make up for lost time. 



Thursday, 21st.— Fine breeze, S.W., tide ahead, made 

 sail and up anchor at 8:30 A. M. in company with a 

 pungey, which we soon required the aid of an opera glass 

 to see, and before long could only see by "going one eye 

 on her" with our long glass. Wind increased rapidly, 

 tide in our favor by this time, tied in two reefs off Listen's 

 Tree. Very damp and cool, so much so that the ship's 

 company were piped below to "smile." Lots of common 

 ducks ahead, on both bows, on either beam and astern. 

 Oh, what duck talk, what running for guns by the two 

 novices of the party, crawling forward, banging away, 

 and never a feather. "Well, they were fishy, decidedly 

 fishy." Threatening rain, sprinkling rain, very decided 

 rain, great cry for oil skins, gum coats and sou'westers, 

 our party very soon so metamorphosed that we hardly 

 knew "t'other from which." 



Made mouth of Duck Creek (Cross Cut) before noon, 

 tide ahead and narrow creek, boat too large for the creek 

 or creek too small for the boat, don't know which; but 

 our good ship worked like a top and showed her sailing 

 qualities to perfection, which in addition to having a 

 working crew, who all knew when to haul and what to 

 haul and what to let go, especially the latter when we 

 jibed over the main boom and didn't want to get our 

 hands burned by the main sheet, soon got us out of diffi- 

 culties. We thought it rained out in the bay, but we 

 were certain of it before we dropped our hook abreast of 

 Duck Creek ponds. Down sails, stow same, and down to 

 dinner is the order of the day. Never tasted better 

 corned beef and cabbage, with the usual concomitants. 

 Those who were wet soon dried themselves, and those 

 who were dry, I rather think "wet then- whistles." A 

 good harbor, a fine, roomy cabin, a stove — what shall I 

 say of that stove? Well, it just wouldn't burn, having a 

 long horizontal pipe that ran under the cockpit before it 

 came on deck. Sent a long-legged man under the cock- 

 pit, who by taking a reef in his legs was enabled to take 

 down the pipe and punch a scupper hole in it to let the 

 ram out. Shipped pipe, fired up, but no go. Anathemas 



loud and strong against the "little varmint," but she 

 asserted her prerogative of smoking. After some think- 

 ing, some talking, some wondering, Capt. Billy proposed 

 that we put the stove out in the cockpit and bring the 

 pipe in the cabin; but after coaxing it a little longer and 

 getting the pipe hot the fire burned all right. "Now, 

 boys," said one of our blowers, "I can beat any man at 

 euchre." Down we sit, and midnight found us still at it. 

 Then all hands turn in came the order. 



Friday, 22d. — Eain, rain, ram, cold and rain. Up at 

 4:30 and a portion of the party turned out in the marsh, 

 dragging their duck boats over to the ponds, trying on 

 their way the depth of many "salt holes," some of which 

 we declared had no bottom, or rather that our legs were 

 not long enough to reach the same. All hands returned 

 at dark with 31 ducks, nearly all baldpate, with a sprink- 

 ling of black ducks and others. Hungry was not the 

 word. Such slices of bread and butter, sausage, beef- 

 steak, oysters and other viands as disappeared on the 

 occasion would astonish any one not accustomed to see 

 duck shooters eat after such a day on the marsh. Euchre, 

 pipes, hot toddies, and occasionally a yarn, wound up the 

 evening. Through the night more than the usual amount 

 of snoring. 



Saturday, 23d.— Fine, clear morning, wind fresh N.W. 

 All hands on the marsh. Wind wrong, only 33 ducks. 

 In at dark, with the same royal appetites. 



Sunday, 24th.— Fine, clear day, wind N.W. This being 

 an "off-day," we made sail, ran down the creek, think- 

 ing we should lie off and rest, smoke, read and loaf gen- 

 erally; but "man pi'oposes," etc. Slap bang into the mud, 

 crack goes our centerboard. There's the mischief to pay 

 and no pitch hot. Went to Mahon's Ditch where, after a 

 good deal of work, we unhung our board, and horrors, 

 found it broken in two. After taking a little more off it, 

 hung it again and found we could use it, and piped all 

 hands to supper, in which fat young baldpates made the 

 principal dish. Do you understand, baldpates? No finer 

 duck flies. The number we put away would astonish 

 you. 



Monday, 25th.— Clear, fine, breeze, S.W. Made sail 

 after a hearty breakfast (notwithstanding our duck sup- 

 per of the night before) for Straight Creek on the Jersey 

 side. A great popping of guns at coots by the greenhorns 

 of the party in crossing the bay. Dropped our anchor in 

 the creek at noon. All hands went up the creek to King 

 Pond. Very few ducks this afternoon, only six: returned 

 to yacht at dark. Usual card party in the evening. 



Tuesday, 26th.— Clear; wind fresh S.W. The party, 

 except Capt. V. and the Commodore, went to the pond 

 and killed forty-three ducks, nearly all black. Stove 

 smoking at both ends, "whew! my eyes." George (cook) 

 certainly understands cooking ducks and the party as 

 certainly understand eating them; nothing but shaking 

 out reefs in the waistbands of our pantaloons all around 

 the table. 



Wednesday, 27th. — Rain this morning; cleared off by 

 noon with a fine breeze, N.W. Three of the party, Capt. 

 Billy, Amos and the writer, went up to the pond. Poor 

 luck; only killed twenty ducks. Marsh party very cold 

 and sharp set when they returned. Ducks, coffee, etc., 

 etc. , went down to fill the vacuum. After supper usual 

 amusement, which was varied by the Commodore having 

 an attack of sciatica; whisky and cayenne pepper was 

 applied hot externally. An impromptu cuppping attempted 

 by the writer, who heated a tumbler and applied it to the 

 Commodore's back, was pronounced a success by all ex- 

 cept the Commodore. He did not exactly coincide in 

 this view of it, as the tumbler had been heated too Jiot, 

 and as it stuck to his back, brought him flying out of his 

 berth, forgetting sciatica and all else except the tumbler; 

 this caused a. general snicker to pass around the card table 

 which reminded the Commodore of the fable of the "boys 

 and the frogs." Boarded an oysterman to-day who had 

 some "coves" of the real stripe. 



Thursday, 2Sth.^€imi; wind N.W. Made sail about 

 noon. Small creek, wind dead ahead, very little water, 

 but the Nettle behaved in her usual style and very soon 

 put herself in deep water. Started up the bay; wind died 

 out just as we reached Middle Marsh Creek, where we 

 dropped anchor at 4:30 P. M. The party went to a pond 

 near the creek, this being new ground to most of" us. 

 Captain Billy killed a pair of black ducks, and a pair that 

 Amos claimed to have killed, but didn't get, would have 

 made four. Hats bet on his getting them in the morning 

 (which bet was lost). Supped on ducks, with fish, oys- 

 ters, etc., etc. After supper "boat talk," and a round of 

 "old sledge" closed the evening. Cook reported provis- 

 ions getting low. No butter for supper, but we concluded 

 tha.t plenty of ham fat was a good substitute. 



Friday, 29th.— Clear at sunrise, wind S.W. Made sail 

 at 5 A. M.; ran up the bay; wind failed before noon. 

 Boarded a schooner off New Castle for coal. Started our 

 cabin stove, but could get nothing out of it but smoke, 

 smoke, smoke. Dead float from New Castle to Marcus 

 Hook. Sent a boat ashore there for provisions. Cook 

 reports us out, dead out. A duck apiece for breakfast, 

 and one and a half apiece for dinner, and a slice of ham 

 each for supper — most decidedly short allowance for 

 hungry men. Cook brought off some butter and some 

 short-waisted mackerel; all he could find. Always thought 

 the Hook a one-horse place; now know it to be. Evening, 

 euchre, with some rich, very rich stories, with pipes, 

 cigars, egg nog, and nightcap of hot toddy. Stove smoked 

 awfully, euchre party smoked out. Small hours of the 

 morning surprised all hands except the Commodore, who 

 turned in and. went to sleep, waked up and undertook a 

 story, failed decidedly; not rich enough, couldn't get up 

 a laugh. 



Saturday, ,10th.— Cloudy. Light wind, N.E. Looks 

 and feels like snow. No fire. Made sail at 5 A. M. 

 Wind increased. Piped to breakfast at 7 o'clock off 

 Clemell Flats. Plenty of good bread and butter, mack- 

 erel, ham and eggs, first-class coffee, etc, Made Navy- 

 Yard at 9 o'clock, assorted and divided ducks, and drew 

 lots for the different piles. Stood off and on at the island 

 to set Captain Billy and Amos B. ashore, bag, baggage 

 and ducks. Wind and tide ahead from here up. Cold 

 and raw. Tried our stove once more; put in plenty of 

 paper, then kindlings, chips, etc., but no go. Thought of 

 hanging out a sign, "Hams taken in to smoke;" but after 

 a long trial got the fire going, and it felt very comfort- 

 able. Reached Riverton about 4 o'clock, where party dis- 

 banded. So ends this log. Sinkboat. 



The Wheatlanus, Maryland. 



