THE VANISHING MOOSE. 



351 



tolerably certain that at least for twenty years 

 there has not been a native moose in New York. 



Strange tales are told, however, that lead 

 even a very cautious hearer to think that per- 

 haps somewhere in the woods there is something 

 bigger than the ubiquitous " big buck " — per- 

 haps by some strange chance a stray caribou, 

 for a caribou was killed there a few years ago, 

 and it has since been proved that it was one 

 turned loose by a game club. Better still, let 

 us call it by the term used by the guides in 

 describing the antlers of the mysterious beast — 

 a " brush heap." 



The southern watershed in New Brunswick 

 was once a grand place for moose, and around 

 the head-waters of the Miramichi and Resti- 

 gouche rivers many are still to be found. 

 North of the latter river, in the peninsula of 

 Gaspe and in the county of Rimouski, they 

 existed in great quantities until the winter of 

 1862, when, during the deep snows, they were 

 almost entirely exterminated by Indians sent 

 out to get hides. Moccasins were needed for the 

 British troops just arrived in Canada, in conse- 

 quence of the threatening aspect of the Trent af- 

 fair. Gaspe was the last place where they were 

 very numerous, and this indiscriminate slaugh- 

 ter sealed the doom of the moose in the East. 

 A few may still be found in the once-famous 

 Muskoka deer country, a locality that has been 

 several times suggested as an excellent place 

 for a moose preserve. The best place for a 

 good hunter to get a moose head is now the 

 country on each side of the Ottawa River 

 above Mattawa. 



The moose, while totally lacking the grace 

 and ease of movement of the deer, is appallingly 

 grand as he stands swinging his immense antlers 

 like feathers as he turns to catch a taint in the 

 breeze. In the rutting season, when they are 

 at their best, the body is rusty black and the 

 legs grayish. The shoulders and broad chest 

 show tremendous strength, and the hips are 

 stout and clean cut ; but the great height of a 

 moose is owing chiefly to his long legs and 

 bristling mane. 



When a bull moose hes dead in the forest, he 

 looks like some strange antediluvian animal, 

 with his square prehensile muffle and horns 

 spreading laterally — a peculiarity which he 

 shares with the prehistoric Irish elk and the 

 nearly extinct European elk of later times. The 

 huge form tells of strength and swiftness, and, 

 withal, the still dangerous gleam of the eye, 

 glazed in its last stare, bids the hunter pause and 

 feel almost guilty of a crime in the destruction 

 of so much that is grand and weird, a feeling 

 very different from the sentiment supposed to 

 attend the slaughter of a deer. But the triumph 

 of mastering the wariest and bravest animal in 

 the woods by fair still-hunting, and by grimly 



sticking to the track for many a weary mile, 

 amply atones for any regrets. 



One can form only a very erroneous idea of 

 the true appearance of a moose from the stuffed 

 heads usually seen. Few, if any, taxidermists 

 have ever seen a live moose, and with only the 

 loose hide to work on, they make a monstrosity 

 of it, giving him a decidedly misshapen nose, 

 and filling out to the utmost the immense nos- 

 trils, which in repose are in a collapsed state. 

 The ears come above the horns, not behind 

 them, as is usually the case in mounted speci- 

 mens. 



In the living animal the nose is a marvel of 

 ugliness, and the surface covered by the olfac- 

 tory nerves so great that it is doubtful whether 

 there is any other animal whose sense of smell 

 is so highly developed. Like most other deni- 



DRAWN BY W. H. CRAKE. 



HEAD OF A MOOSE KILLED ON THE UPPER OTTAWA RIVER 

 IN 1891, SHOWING THE "BELL." 



zens of the forest, it relies far more on its 

 scent than on its sight. The eyes are small and 

 wicked, snapping and gleaming on the slightest 

 provocation, and betray at once the ugly char- 

 acter of their owner. 



When captured young, moose prove most in- 

 teresting pets, and become very tame, remain- 

 ing so except in the autumn, when the bulls 

 are apt to give trouble. Taken later in life, how- 

 ever, they are extremely hard to domesticate ; 

 still, they have been broken in to harness 

 and used for draft purposes. In confinement 

 they are dangerous from a little trick they have 

 of striking with their fore feet, not straight out, 

 as a horse sometimes strikes, but first lifting the 



