■ 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
tAua. 11, 1894. 
ON THEIR FIRST MOOSE HUNT. 
Ambrose wants it to be recorded that he called a moose 
as late as the night of the 13th day of October, in the 
year 1893. 
Ambrose and Ned, from the Indian village at the mouth 
of Tobique, were in nearly complete charge of a party of 
youths from New York at Gulquac Lake. To the ear 
trained to keenness by woods life, which could not be 
said of all the party, the neighborhood abounded in moose 
from 10 o'clock that night until at least 3 o'clock in the 
morning. At long intervals between periods of absolute 
silence, twigs snapped with startling distinctness, tree 
trunks were pounded by wrathful antlers, not to speak of 
the bellow and prolonged roars uttered far away at the 
first blast from Ambrose's moose horn. How big ne was, 
Or what he was like, history can never record; but the 
imagination can picture his puzzled looks and even guess 
the thoughts that flitted through his brain, as from the 
secure shadow of black forest he contemplated the objects 
in the birch canoes, only a short ways from shore. 
Ambrose insists the fault was none of his — and who is 
a better judge than Ambrose? — but some say that Ambrose 
couldn't # draw the moose out of the woods into the open, 
and merely wanted an excuse therefor. That must be 
left for them to settle between them, for with that history 
has nothing to do. Ambrose begau to call at the setting 
of the sun, and as the woods grew dark a silence settled 
upon the whole earth. This is the Silence of the Woods, 
a silence punctured by little sounds, the splash of a musk- 
rat, the cry of a distant owl — nothing else. The Boy was 
forbidden to smoke, but after he had smoked one pipeful 
he laid it aside wearily, and raised his heavy Winchester 
from his lap to rest his stiff legs. To his ears there was 
nothing to break the oppressive stillness but Ambrose 
calling, with marvelous regularity, at intervals of half an 
hour. 
When at last a far-away echo came floating up the 
lake, answered promptly by the Indian, and replied to by 
louder roars, and. when Joe excitedly whispered, "Moose! ' 
there was excitement for a time, which even the Boy 
shared. But at length all grew still again, and it was 
hard to keep awake. Only the initiated recognized, or 
heard, the snapping of a twig now and then, and it 
seemed every moment that the moose, then not 60yds. 
away, must step into the water. But as the Indians sat 
bent over in their blankets, listening, a long drawn, reso- 
nant sound rose close at hand. It startled them at first. 
But another followed, and another; then as if gaining 
confidence, the sound swelled out with the slow, regular 
beat so familiar. The Boy was sleeping. Ambrose seized 
him by the shoulder and roughly shook him, but he only 
turned over upon the other side and snored on, now 
more earnestly than ever. Ambrose laid down the horn 
and seized the paddle with positive quickness. Joe did 
the same, and the two paddled back to camp in silence. 
The Boy waked up in time to tell the cook, with a display 
of that brightness so often characteristic of the lately 
awakened, "Oh, yes; a moose walked right into camp, 
and I was asleep!" But there was compensation for all, 
excepting Ambrose, in tbe thought that there was already 
in camp as tine a pair of moose antlers as could be found 
in many a day. They measured 59m. across, though it 
was a pity that the prong which gives the greatest width 
had been broken off, apparently several weeks before. 
The horns were very symmetrical, very wide across the 
palmation and were believed to be the biggest pair that 
ever came off Tobique of which there is any record or 
recollection among tne people there. Any one may see 
them, together with the great hide to which they are 
attached, in the center ,of the new moose group Deing 
built at tne American Museum of Natural History. 
There was still further compensation which, to be taken 
in the order of its occurrence, should be mentioned about 
six hours before the vocal performance of that unlucky 
13th of October, just chronicled. The two canoes were 
proceeding to the calling spot at the foot of the lake, 
while the sun was yet an hour high, and as they turned 
around the little island in the middle of the lake there, 
two moose were discovered several hundred yards off in 
the yellow sunlight that backed the opposite shore. They 
were a big cow and her strapping big calf standing knee 
deep in the water, apparently feeding on the lilies that 
somehow managed to survive the incessant depredations 
of both moose and muskrats. Preparations were made to 
shoot, for it was not discovered tnat neither was a bull 
until the canoes, driven head on with great speed, were 
half way there. At 100yds. distance they stopped and 
watched the two moose, who now paused in their feeding 
and regarded them with mild curiosity. Then the old 
cow proceeded to feed. Standing squarely on her four 
legs she thrust her head down to the bottom of the lake 
until her eyes were submerged. After a few seconds she 
drew forth, and when the water had ceased dripping 
down her face she was seen chewing away at a lily root 
and curiously looking at the men, just as a cow in a barn- 
yard might be expected to do. 
Then the camera, a 4X5, was speedily brought into ac- 
tion. At the click of the shutter both animals jerked 
their heads^up as high, apparently, as a horse, and stood a 
few seconds gazing, then each turned its head to the 
other, as mucn as to inquire, "Is ic all right; ?" And being 
apparently satisfied, continued to nose the water as before. 
The canoes were advanced another twenty -five yards, 
and a second snap taken, at which their heads were jerked 
violently up, and with heads held perpendicularly and 
great ears thrown forward, they stood fixed for a long 
minute. Not till then had they shown more fright than 
that caused by the sharp "click" of the camera. They 
had not minded the talking nor other quiet sounds, but 
the sharp knock of the shutter made them start percep- 
tibly. Wow, however, they were suspicious, and began 
walking shoreward, frequently pausing to gaze. Then 
they mounted the bank, and after shaking themselves 
like dogs, limbered up and disappeared into the woods. 
The immediate question was, how near might they have 
been approached? The belief was that the canoes, if 
driven quickly and quietly on, could have gone within a 
few yards of them, .for purposes of photography that 
would have been a chance not to be lost, but it was 
thought best not to alarm them, lest the old cow's mate 
be near by in the woods, and it was he they wanted most. 
The photographs were not satisfactory, owing to the* 
distance and smallness of the lens. Glass plates were 
used. At 100ft. (judged) the animals are scarcely per- 
ceptible. At the closer point they appear sharp and clear, 
but still not an eighth ot an inch tali. 
Oorrobarating the recent evidence in Forest and 
Stream, the big 'moose did not at any time thrust out her 
nose, but held it vertically quite as a horse may be seen 
to do when regarding the passers-by from over a pasture 
fence. Yet from our position and with the aid of an 
opera glass, the moose's head nevertheless was held so 
high that the nose was almost on a level with its back. 
The Boy bad one more encounter with moose, which 
should be a warning to all who travel in the woods with 
imperfect means of defense. The Boy was on the way to 
the settlement, down the little river, tor a fresh supply of 
flour, in company with Jimmie, the man of all worfc, and 
a very characteristic type of the young lumberman — 
noisy, good-humored, but not pretending to be a hunter. 
As the canoe dropped around a turn in the stream, a 
stretch of 200yds. opened to view, and there, behold! in 
the middle of the shallow bed stood three moose, a bull, 
a cow and a calf. The Boy saw them gazing up stream, 
and he minded the last word of warning from the elder 
brother, "Don't take any risks with a moose!" 
So he sprang out of the canoe, before Jimmie could 
stop either it or him, and with all speed scrambled up a 
white birch that leaned over the stream, trom which, 
well out of reach he had a clear view of the whole stream. 
Instantly he whipped out his 32cal. revolver, and began 
to fire — for he really was a capital shot. Jimmie, with 
all he could do to hold the heavy canoe in mid stream, 
was beseeching him for the revolver, so that he could 
drop down on top of the beasts and shoot one. Jimmie 
begged and implored. But it was no use. Disarm him- 
self that way? No! He proceeded with careful aim to 
fire, and strange to say actually hit the bull moose. 
Evidently — for on a sudden it gave a grunt and jumped 
for the shore, scrambled up the low bank and disappeared 
with cow and calf behind him. Jimmie swore that he 
would have dropped down to within 20ft. of these moose, 
and he would have done so. The moose were surprised. 
But the Boy has the right stuff in him, and when he dis- 
covers that even Indian guides have a sense of humor, 
and learns not to mind them, he will love the North more 
than ever. T. A. 
A REMINISCENCE OF COBB'S ISLAND. 
Just an old brier pipe, but I would not part with it. 
Why? Look at its honest old bowl; read the inscriptions 
thereon: Crusoe Island, Powhatan, Norfolk, Buck River, 
Assateague, Chincoteague, Cobb's Island, Del. Breakwater. 
Some "dime novel hero" I have read about used to 
notch the stock of his rifle every time a "painted varmint" 
bit the dust with one of its bullets in his "brain case." 
Robinson Crusoe made his record of time by notching a 
post, and I have carved a few reminders of my outdoor 
life with rod and gun upon the shining face of my dear 
old brier. 
Your columns have contained from time to time items 
of interest from Cobb's Island. As we have been there I 
trust a reminiscence from my pen will be in order. 
May 7, 1894. — On Board the Good Yacht Celeste.— 
Fred Montgomery (better known among his friends as the 
"Bald Eagle of the James"), builder, owner and captain. 
The crew: Sidney and Archie, both bronzed piratical 
looking fellows, with an air of "deep sea" about them, 
Willum the cabin boy and expert gull charmer, and lastly 
"Pardner," myself, and this old pipe. 
A fresh breeze was rushing our white craft over the 
long seas, the Virginia coast lay away to leeward hidden 
in purple haze; only the boundless ocean with its heaving 
swell, so resistless, so merciless when aroused^ swinging 
up to us, then under and away, with a smother of foam 
at the stem as it left. Well forward I sat, in perfect con- 
tent, listening to the creak! creak I of the booms as we 
rose and fell upon the following seas. Hour after hour we 
bowled along, the salt breeze singing in the canvas, the 
rush of foam under the bow. 
Far ahead we catch the gleam of a snow white object 
as it rises on the crest of a wave. Soon it resolves itself 
into the form of a seabird as we draw nearer, and — well, 
as usual, a tragedy was enacted, and we found ourselves 
in possession of a superb gannet, an old male in immacu- 
late plumage. Eight miles or so from shore, he was rest- 
ing on the ocean when fate overtook him amid the waves. 
Dark, smoky clouds have been gradually working up 
the western sky, and an occasional growl of thunder mut- 
ters ominously, though the ripples still sparkle on the 
sunlit wave crests. Blacker grows the sky shoreward, the 
sunlight now comes feebly through the intervening scud, 
already flying over head. The foam roars with a louder 
note as our course is changed, and we bear away for the 
inlet. 
All is gloom about us as the squall comes raging onward, 
now the breeze has left and we are tossing on the troubled 
waters. Not for long. With a roar of angry winds, 
whose mighty voices strengthen as they near, it rushes 
toward us. Under the sting of its lash we drive wildly 
on through the whirl of elements. A fleeting glimpse 
of low-lying shores with their pounding breakers, a 
cluster of cottages, then blinding rain envelopes every- 
thing. Quickly the yacht points into the wind and we 
feel the shiver of the hull as the anchor chain is payed 
out; a gentle rocking motion follows; we ride safely. 
Such my introduction to Cobb's Island. 
Clad in oilers we walk the deck as the downpour 
lessens, trying to make out our surroundings. Fifiy rods 
away on tne beach a tall figure in hip boots and rubber 
coat stands watching us through the driving rain — the 
only sign of life on shore. We tumble into the yawl and 
pull for this lone individual, finding him to be none other 
than the genial Capt. C. H. Crumb, of the life crew at 
Cobbs; a "crumb from the Master's table," he styles him- 
self, and further acquaintance has convmced us that if 
the quality of the crumb be any criterion, the whole loaf 
must be something unusually good. A few words in- 
formed us that we had unwittingly secured a fine berth 
for the schooner, and we then and there captured this 
"Crumb" and took him aboard, where he soon became 
one of us. 
A bright morning followed the night of squalls, and we 
were early ashore, inspecting the collection of mounted 
birds, collected and mounted by the "Captain," who, in 
addition to being a skillful taxidermist, is an authority 
widely quoted on the shore birds of Virginia. 
The settlement at Cobb's numbers some eighty-five 
esidents. During the summer transient visitors largely 
predominate. The Rev. Thomas Dixon, Jr., has built a 
cosy cottage near the Life Station, and although this was 
unoccupied at tbe time of our visit, I felt that I knew the 
man already, for high on its front that faces the restless 
ocean I read the inscription, "Ye Curlew's Nest," and 
while looking thereon the plaintive calls of migrating 
curlew came softly across the water from the meadows 
of Bone Island and filled the twilight with sweet wild 
music. Prettily named this little home, may time deal 
gently with its inmates. 
The island is being surely but slowly devoured by old 
ocean. Originally some 500 acres in extent, it has 
dwindled to less than ninety, as I am informed. And 
when one sees the ceaseless movement of the tides which 
rip and tear thereabout, he will easily accept the state- 
ment. Ebb and flood, they are constantly on the go, 
slack water seemingly lasts but a moment, when round 
swings the yacht's head and the tide is running. 
Of the brant shooting the captain speaks in glowing 
terms, and a sweep of the glass about the broad waters 
reveals the remnants of scores of last autumn's blinds. 
Of the boats with their leg-o'-mutton sails too much can- 
not be said in praise. They are great sea craft, point 
finely, and will "turn on their heels" almost, so quickly 
do they respond to skillful handling. We enjoyed a 
glorious sail with the Captain in a gale of wind to New 
Inlet, eight miles dead to windward. It was wild but 
exhilarating in the extreme. 
What? Pipe out? I must close. Go there, friends. 
You will find more than a Crumb of comfort. The air is 
balmy, sport is good, and the sea breeze will drive the 
clouds away and let sunshine into your lives. 
WlLMOT TOWNSEND. 
A WYOMING REMEMBRANCE. 
Our tough, wiry little team of bronchos were toiling 
along the white road in a blazing sun, which made the 
heat waves roll shimmering upward from the dry alkali 
plain. The thermometer was at 120° in the shade and 
had hung there persistently for the past six weeks. Every- 
thing was burnt up, even the hardy sage brush and heat- 
defying cactus had commenced to shrivel from the white 
sultriness. Our pipe smoke hung around our dust-be- 
grimed faces, and the white alkali fog, disturbed by the 
horses' hoofs, drifted up in choking clouds, followed along 
and settled on the whole outfit, horses, wagon and our- 
selves until we looked as though we had camped under 
the lee of a flour mill for a week. Along the margin of 
the few stagnant, white-rimmed pools, where the sage 
brush was thickest, a few panting sage hens stood with 
outstretched necks and distendea wings vainly trying to 
find a bit of shade and cool air enough to breathe. 
The mirage shone in the west, obliterating the topog- 
raphy of the Butte country, painting, to our smarting eyes, 
beautiful lakes and rivers, cool and enticing vistas of shade 
and comfort. It had only the charm of novelty to us, as 
we well knew that the only water fit for man or beast for 
miles around was swashing about in our ten-gallon keg, 
and we also knew, from past experience, that it was as 
hot as sun could make it. Here and there an occasional 
'long horn" cow stood pensively waiting for sundown in 
the meager shade afforded by the few stunted cedars 
struggling for an existence on the ashy hillsides. A couple 
of antelope were feeding, unmindful of the heat, along 
the edge of a one-time water hole, munching the yellow, 
sickly grass with apparent relish. Nothing else in sight 
save the gray-brown sameness of the buttes for miles, 
until they faded away in the dancing heat and mirage. 
Away in the northwest a pile of mountainous, heavy- 
looking clouds had been slowly rising, advancing and dis- 
tending their white columns, until tney covered a quarter 
circle of the blazing sky. We had cast a wistful eye 
toward them since morning, and speculation was rife 
between us as to the probability of that rarity of the Bad 
Lands, a real rain storm, coming our way. 
It was now September, and we had been part and 
parcel of this country since May and had yet to see our 
first rain. 
A faint puff of wind from the south gave us hope; then 
a lull drooped our spirits again clear below zero. Another 
puff, hot as a gust from a lurnace, drifted the dust away 
in a lazy fashion, trailing along the sagebrush tops, only 
to let it settle despondently down again. After a little 
the occasional puffs became a steady breeze, which carried 
the choking dust to leeward for good, and gave us a 
chance for breath unmixed with alkali, and best of all, 
time to wash the smarting stuff from our cracked lips and 
aching eyes with the water in the keg. The breeze gave 
a sensation of coolness, though the heat waves rolled 
along and anon .puffed an oven-like breath in our faces. 
The clouds rose slowly, majestically, and at last obscured 
the sun, giving us a change chat was delightful compared 
with what we had endured since leaving Sundance, 30 
miles behind us. A low muttering began among the hill- 
tops; cattle moved about uneasily, coming out from among 
the canons and other unseen places which had afforded a 
little shade, up on the mesas and flats, to congregate in 
bunches or singly, feeding in a restless, intermittent fash- 
ion, which sho wed then- uneasiness. Our team, too, would 
hold up their heads and listen to the distant growl with 
tilted ear and watchful eye. 
The wind increased until a gale was blowing from the 
south. The white cloud had got above us and was of a 
decided gray hue now, while away in the northwest a 
darkening curtain had dropped to the earth and supplied 
a background against which the buttes were thrown in 
sharp outline and contrasting colors unthought of an hour 
ago. Extra lashings were passed through the eyebolts on 
the wagon cover to keep the thrashing canvas on the bars. 
Lightning began to cut the black curtain of cloud into 
rags and tatters and then the wind died down for a few 
minutes, only to come with a roar from the direction of 
the storm, bringing the fragrance of rain which was de- 
lightfully cool and refreshing. A few minutes ago the 
heat was oppressive; now a coat feels comfortable. We 
jog along on the homeward trail glad for the change the 
rain is bound to make in this desert country and for the 
influence it will have for days to conje. 
With a crash that startles our horses and stampedes the 
cattle the storm breaks over us, and in five minutes the 
driving water compels us to turn away, for the horses re 
fuse to face it and exhibit their natural tendency to drift. 
We pull up by the roadside "stern on" and wait for it to 
blow over. The lightning flashes and the thunder peals 
among the hills, wnile the rain drifts by in sheets, com- 
pletely hiding the nearest butte. Our horses stand with 
heads hung down and sides streaming, quiet and unmind 
