Jan. 5, 1895.] 
FOREST AMD STREAM. 
5 
much gifted in the musical line, and I am compelled to 
admit that the "call he gives is usually a monumental 
fake. 
A common mode of calling is for the guide to climb 
a tree. Prom this elevation he can reach further with 
his horn, see further and hear sounds which cannot be 
heard on the ground. It is unwise to conclude because 
you have heard no answer to the call that there is no 
show for moose meat. If your moose is at a distance 
of half a mile or more he is apt to take his own elegant 
time about it, and come poking around mussing thing? 
up an hour or to after you have lost patience and gone 
back to camp. As a rule, if an unmated moose is 
handy to the horn he will give the answering grunt. 
As he comes nearer he will stop now and then and lis- 
ten. This is the time the caller needs to know his 
business. If he is not a master of his profession he 
had better lie low and run the chance of the game com- 
ing within range. He should never give the loud call, 
for the moose would detect it at once. If he knows 
how to give the low call, or ' ' coaxer, ' ' he will probably 
bring the noble game to the filing point without delay. 
When a moose is mated he will often answer the call, 
but will hot come to it, unless he is a very short dis- 
tance off. He is a firm believer in the adage that a bird 
in the hand is worth two in the bush. The curse of the 
hunter if he is trying to still hunt a mated moose is 
the moose calf. He is always scouting around, some- 
where within a radius of a quarter of a mile of his 
mother, and upon the advance of the enemy is sure to 
give the alarm. No matter how badly he is off for milk 
he is never fool enough to come to the horn. 
In the mating season the bull moose is the most 
tyrannical brute on earth The cow can often be heard 
bellowing in distress at the abuse she receives from him. 
At last, poor soul, her patience is exhausted and she 
runs off into the dense thickets where, from the obstruc- 
tion offered by his horns, he is unable to overtake her. 
It is the firm belief of most old hunters that the immense 
horns carried by the moose at this season of the year 
are placed there by a wise Providence to enable the cow 
in this way to escape. 
A singular fact observed by all woodsmen is the very 
irregular manner in which the sexes are distributed in 
a given district. In one section of the country four out 
of every five animals will be cows; in another section 
the "proportion will be reversed. In the winter when 
the snow is deep the old bulls fraternize, and it is not 
uncommon to r find half a dozen of them in a single 
"yard." There is not the least need in this province 
of prohibiting the killing of bull moose in the calling 
season, for the number of animals then killed in fair, 
open, honest sport must in the nature of things be very 
limited. It is the indiscriminate killing of moose by 
trappers, loggers and Indians in the deep snow that calls 
loudly for a remedy. 
There is a marvelous difference between a bull moose 
in September and the same animal in March. In the 
former season he is kingly in his strength and courage 
— the veritable monarch of all he surveys ; in the latter 
his regal crown is gone, he is wearied with his long 
battle with the snow and the scanty food he obtains has 
greatly impaired his vitality. 
The height of a full grown bull moose at the shoulder 
is about seven feet, never under six feet and a half, 
never over seven feet and a half. He is much darker in 
color than the cow — in fact, almost black — and somewhat 
larger. The widest spread of horns ever mounted by 
Mr. Carnall, the well known taxidermist of St. John, 
who has handled some hundreds in his time, was five 
feet two inches. Mr. Phair of Fredrickton, has a set 
that measures just five feet, from which the outermost 
prong on one side is missing. In the Crown Land office 
l s a pair of antlers with a spread of four feet ten inches. 
The average spread of horns on a moose five years old 
and upwards in this province appears to be about four 
feet. All bull moose have the bell at the neck, but with 
some it is not fully developed. 
By some writers the bull moose is described as "bel- 
lowing. ' ' What these gentlemen heard, if they heard 
anything, was doubtless the call of the cow moose, 
which on a still night in September can be heard for 
miles. When Braithwaite was calling with us last fall 
he was ansAvercd once or twice by a cow moose. The 
resemblance between the genuine and the spmious 
article was very close indeed. The call of the bull is a 
short, basso -prof undo grunt, or succession of grunts, 
pitched at so low a note in the musical scale that, like, 
the dramming of a partridge, it is impossible to tell 
how far away it is. It seems to come out of the ground 
almost at your feet. Unless youarelistening for it you 
will hardly hear it at all, and on a windy day the most 
experienced caller will imagine he hears it a score of 
times when all that he hears are the myriad murmurs of 
the forest. 
The birch bark horn is used as a caribou call as well. 
The cry of the caribou is very easy to imitate. It is the 
same with both sexes — a very short grunt that is almost 
a bark — and the doe is just as apt to answer the call as 
the buck. When a caribou comes to the horn he comes 
on the dead run and will circle around the hunter as if 
totally bereft of reason. The main difficulty in calling 
caribou is that the call is so low that it can only be 
heard for a short distance, but when a herd has been 
alarmed it can often be used with good effect in bring- 
ing the game to a stand. 
I wonder how many of the readers of The Forest and 
Stream have ever worn a moose shank? In the fall of 
the year a pair of shanks is the finest footgear the hunter 
can wear, being perfectly noiseless and water tight. 
They are made from the skin of the hind legs of the 
moose, the hide being stripped off intact from a point 
about a foot above the joint to about a foot below. After 
drying in the sun for a day or two every scrap of fleshy 
matter is carefully scraped away, the lower end or toe 
is tightly sewed with sinew thread and then the shoe 
is ttmied fur side out and is ready to be worn. The 
heel is perfect. The toe is a little tight, but will soon 
stretch to the shape of the foot. The leg will be rather 
large, but you can gather it in with a cord, or else cut 
out a section and lace it up. Three pairs of socks should 
be worn to protect the feet when traveling is rough. 
Having once experienced the unspeakable luxury of the 
moose shank you will not want to wear anything else. 
But how jire you going to get your shank until you have 
got your moose? Well, if your guide is worth a kettle 
af beans he will have a lot of old moose shanks knocking 
around the camp and he will soak a pair of them over 
night and rig you up in a jiffy. 
One of the most thrilling adventures with a moose 
that I ever heard of befell the veteran caller, Braithwaite, 
a year ago last October. Having just completed an en- 
gagement with a hunting party he was trying to pick 
up a moose on his own account. For over a> week he 
called at all the best calling grounds without suc- 
cess. At last he shouldered rifle and pack and started 
to work his way out through the fifty miles of unbroken 
forest that lay between him and the nearest settlement. 
When he arrived at Two Lakes he sat down for a rest 
and gave a casual calL To his surprise and delight he 
was answered at once from the other shore of the lake. 
He had just time to throw his pack to one side and hide 
himself in the hard hacks when a noble moose appeared 
on the opposite bank and stood for some time looking 
straight towards him. As Henry gave the ' ' coaxer' ' the 
moose walked boldly into the water and started to swim 
across. Nearing the spot where the hunter was con- 
cealed he stood up in the shallow water and listened 
eagerly, the last ruddy rays of the last sun that he 
was ever to see lighting up his antlers till they shone 
like a crown of glory. Again the lone hunter breathed 
the low, sweet, whimpering call, and the lordly animal 
waded through the rushes and lilypads until he stood at 
the very margin of the lake within twenty feet of his 
hidden'foe. His ears were thrown forward, the whites 
of his eyes gleamed through the gathering shadows, 
the'steam rose from his nostrils and every hair 'upon his 
big black mane stood up as straight as the sentinel firs 
from which he had emerged. He gave himself a mighty 
shake and threw the spray from his back and mane in a 
shower over the breathless hunter. Henry could have 
shot him with ease where he stood, but did not want to 
drop him in the water. For at least five minutes he 
stood there as motionless as a statue, one of the grand- 
est, most awe-inspiring sights that ever the eye of man 
beheld. Then he gave a kind of whistle as if puzzled 
by the silence and stepped upon the firm, dry land. Out 
of the dusk came a sheet of flame and a crash, and ere 
the echoes of the shot had died away among the hills 
the noble brute lay lifeless on the bank with his great 
heart torn by an express bullet into atoms. 
Henry said when he stood over the prostrate form he 
felt so sorry for the life he had taken he could have 
cried. It was not fair play, it was trickery — it was mur- 
der. Yielding to the universal instinct, to the master 
passion of his nature, the king of the valley had been 
duped and decoyed to his doom by the voice of the siren 
just as many a human king had been. 
" But Henry soon got over his grief and proceeded to 
skin and carve the old chap up to the queen's taste, 
and when he tumbled into bed that night he took a rare 
nip of very old Gaelic and felt as happy as a king full. 
And that, I think, was very human, too. PkowTjEB. 
Fredekicton, Jan. 3, 1895. 
THE OLD MACON DEER PARK. 
Littleton, N. C. , Dec. 21.— Many persons still make 
pilgrimages to see the historic old country home of 
Nathaniel Macon, the patriot and statesman of Warren 
County, N C. , and to hear the stories of his simple 
everyday life. The quaint old house, in which he often 
entertained distinguished guests like John Randolph of 
Roanoke, still stands almost as he left it. The ample 
fire places, requiring a wagon load of wood to fill them, 
are unchanged. The old moss covered house stands in 
a 50 acre grove of lordly oaks. In a shady glen there 
flows a bold, magnificent spring of cold, pine water. 
This is called the "Buck Spring" and has been so 
known for a hundred years. It was a famous ' ' deer 
stand" in the old days, and many a goodly buck has 
been killed within a few rods of it When Mr. Macon 
settled this farm he gave it the name of ' ' Buck Spring, ' ' 
which it bears. He organized some high old hunting 
parties in this, then out of the way, place. It was his 
often expressed opinion that neighbors shordd not live 
near enough to each other to hear the dogs bark at 
night. And he lived up to this belief when he built 
his home in the middle of his thousand acres, noted for 
many miles around for the great abundance of large 
game, especially deer. 
There are some few old men in this community who 
can remember Mr. Macon's deer park and the large herd 
of tame as well as wild deer it contained. The one 
hundred acre park was in a beautiful, oblong valley, 
well watered, shady and fertile, producing the greatest 
abundance of tender grass. It was surrounded by a 
high, strong fence running along a few yards from the 
foot of the hill and so inclined inward that it was an 
easy leap for a deer to jump inside the enclosure. But 
when once within there was no escape, it being impos- 
sible for one to jump high enough to overcome the 
acclivity of the hill and the height of the fence. In the 
season of oestruation the wild bucks were attracted from 
the adjoining forest by the captive does with whom they 
were forced to take up a permanent abode. It was quite 
a common sight to see two large bucks engaged in 
furious combat, the half tame fellow resenting the 
intrusion of the wild visitors to his harem, while the 
mild eyed does gazed on in indifferent wonder, and the 
speckled fawns frisked about like playful kittens. Gen- 
erally the visitors proved the stronger, and in consequence 
more wild blood was infused into the -herd. 
They had food thrown about the enclosure in winter, 
and venison was almost as common and staple an 
article of food upon Mr. Macon's table as mutton or 
beef. In fact, after the building of the fence and the 
capture of a few fawns, always easy enough when they 
are young, the trouble of rearing was at an end, and 
they gave him not as much concern as a flock of sheep, 
or any other of the domesticated animals. The gambols 
of these graceful animals gave much pleasure to this old 
man, < great in his simplicity, dtuing his vacations from 
Congress. 
His son-in-law, William Eaton, likewise a resident 
of Warren County, owner of thousands of Roanoke river 
lowlands and hundreds of slaves, widely known because 
of his wealth and high social standing, had constructed 
a deer park similar to that of Mr. Macon, except that 
he only arranged that part of the park lying next to the 
woodland for the wild deer to jump in. He, too, was 
very successful in his venture, and raised a large herd 
of deer, many of them coming to his call and eating 
from his hand. Both of these parks were only five or 
sis miles from this place and often serve as a theme of 
discussion for the old lovers of the chase. A former 
neighbor owned a large yard enclosed with a high 
picket fence. I have seen eight or ten game deer 
grazing around the house. It was his habit to tie a 
small bell to their necks when he allowed them to run 
at large in the fields or woods so that persons would 
know that they were tame and not shoot them. 
If they were molested by dogs they would make a bee 
line for home. One old doe that had been raised in the 
yard produced a pretty pair of twins every season. 
There are large bodies of woodlands in this imme- 
diate vicinity, and deer are still quite plentiful. I 
notice their tracks very often when I am shooting quail 
in the low lands along the creeks and branches. Farmers 
are very anxious to have them shot very often because 
they are destructive to the pea fields. 
During the fall season venison is exposed for sale in 
our markets at the nominal price of ten cents per pound. 
It is almost as easy for John Reid and. Sharper Kearney 
to kill a deer as it is for me to shoot a rabbit. They 
know of all their lairs and. runways, their walks and 
rambles. If John Reid could write poetry he could tell 
more of a deer hunt than you can find in the ' ' Lady 
of the Lake. ' ' John delights in ' ' driving a buck right 
slap over you, " as he describes it, and has often offered 
to serve me that way. But I have never yet been mad 
with a deer. In good truth I feel very much like my 
friend Polk Miller, who says he had "just as soon shoot 
a calf through the fence. ' ' However, there are lots Of 
good fellows who do not agree with us, and if, per- 
chance, any of them would like to kill a deer I am sure 
John Reid will give them as fair a chance as can be had. 
We are only three hours from Norfolk on the Sea board 
Air Line Railroad, and John Reid lives four miles from 
the town in the deer section. 
L. J. PicoeJ 
P. S. — I would be grateful indeed if some gentleman 
could tell me who garbled, interpolated and abridged 
my "Wild Goose Shooting on the Roanoke River in 
North Carolina, ' ' published in Forest and Stream 
several years ago, and published it in a late issue of The 
New York Sun, as an original article. Leslie did me 
the honor to make a graphic illustration of the story, 
but forgot to say who wrote it. This was not very 
"frank." 
OFF RYE LEDGE. 
Rye Ledge, N. H. , is down only on the large maps, 
for it is a small place, although Rye Beach, of which it 
forms a part, is well known as a summer resort. • But 
small and insignificant as it is, there is probably no place 
where more genuine sport has been enjoyed at sea fowl 
shooting than right here. To be sure, the number of 
gunners is somewhat limited, seldom exceeding eight 
or ten, but they include some of the best shots along 
the coast. The Forest and Stream is a household friend 
here and the accounts of sea fowl, or coot shooting, are 
always particularly interesting. But we have never 
seen an account which, described the gunning exactly as 
we are in the habit of enjoying it. 
In the first place, the start from the shore is made at 
just before daybreak. The boats preferred by the older 
sportsmen are similar to a dory, only lower sided and 
rather smaller, having the advantage of showing less 
prominently in the water. The color should always be 
white. The start is made directly from the beach and 
as it slopes off quite abruptly the surf is not very heavy 
on account of the depth of water, and consequently we 
are able to get out in nearly all weathers. 
The 'shooting ground which is preferred is off the 
point of a ledge of rocks, which make directly into the 
sea from the mainland and which are almost entirely 
covered at high water. A short row of fitfeen minutes 
and you are there. Now over with your killock or 
anchor and out with your decoys. The decoys are of 
two kinds, the block and the board. Those of the board 
being made in pairs. The boats, if there are several, 
are stationed about 75 to 100 feet apart, each with strict 
orders never to fire across another gunner's boat, a cau- 
tion unnecessary except with a tiovice in the sport. 
But already the sky is growing red and signs of sun 
rise are very apparent. Get your guns and ammunition 
ready. And now just a word about the ammunition. 
For loons we use No. 3 shot, for coots and other 
fowl, No. 5 is the favorite, although some guaners use 
larger sizes. But we are assured by several sports that 
their experience proves satisfactorily that the smaller 
shot do equally good execution. The great difficuly to be 
overcome in shooting loons is that an amateur is liable 
to shoot when the birds are too far away, their large 
size making them very deceptive. An old and thor- 
oughly experienced gunner, who has a record of nine 
loons killed one morning before 8 o'clock, on that occa- 
sion used the smaller sized shot. = It should be 
understood in connection with this tbafloons are only 
obtained here singly and on the wing The average 
weight of them is eight to ten pounds, although they 
often weigh twelve pounds or more. The same gunner 
on examiniing the heart of a loon killed by him, and 
wirich had lived some little time after being shot, found 
that a shot bad passed directly through the heart, show- 
ing the tenacity to life of this really remarkable bird. , 
And, by the way, we never shoot more than two to five 
feet ahead of a bird, supposing the bird to be 30 to 50 
yards distant, the gun, of course, to be carried along 
with the bird for some little distance and gradually 
drawn ahead as the bird approaches its nearest point. 
The coots which here fly earlier than the loons, one 
frequently shot as soon as daylight permits their being 
seen. They come along about an hour before sunrise, 
which is the time loons are usually looked for. Besides 
the birds mentioned we get sheldrake whistlers or golden 
eye, scolders, dippers and various other fowl. 
Although the birds are not found here in such large 
numbers as in some other places, still with a favorable 
southeast wind a bag of twenty to forty is quite fre- 
quently made. Small bags are the rule rather than 
large ones. Nine or ten o'clock is generally the limit 
for a morning's shoot, although frequently a particularly 
