84 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
Feb. 2, 1895. 
and before we reached the camp they were about us, and 
the sun had disappeared and the whole sky had become 
obscured from our sight by the driving flurries. The bliz- 
zard which lasted through the entire night had com- 
menced. The wind fortunately was at our backs, and 
with well hooded faces we experienced no inconvenience. 
It was four o'clock, about sundown, when we reached 
camp. The thermometer indicated 10 degrees below zero. 
Before six o'clock, the mercury fell to 18 degrees helqw, 
where it remained all night, accompanied by howling 
bursts of wind which seemed bent on -forcing in windows 
and doors. But the fury of the gale was lost upon us, 
and the morning opened quiet and serene, and seemed 
moderate in its still coolness of 18 degrees below. 
A few days after this blizzard we learned that am un- 
fortunate Visitor at the big lake two miles above us (the 
Modseluckmaguntic.) had been caught out in it and very 
nearly lost his life. ' Alone and on foot he attempted the 
passage of eight miles from Haines landing to the Upper 
Dam, and when overtaken by the whirling clouds of snow 
which hid the shores, lost his bearings. 
He could not face the gale and drifted with it until he 
reached the shore, a long way from his course' Here, 
after passing into tile forest a bit, and getting some shel- 
ter, he succeeded in building a fire which saved his life. 
His ears, hands and feet were half frozen. In the morn- 
ing he found he was near the closed camps of Capt. Barker 
at Bends Stream, four miles out of his course. He was 
unable to proceed further, still being eight miles from 
the Upper Dam . He broke open one of the camps, when 
he found plent}- of firewood, but nothing to eat, and re- 
mained two days without food. He then made his way 
to the Upper Dam, arriving in a most wretched condition. 
FLORIDA FUN. 
It was on the 8th of January that four congenial souls 
started south from Richmond, Ind. , bent on camping, 
shooting, fishing and a general good time in the south, 
the first stop to "be at De Tuniak Springs, Fla. The 
party consisted of Gus, an old deer slayer, who looks on 
a shot gun with contempt ; M. T. , another deer hunter, 
and also a quail shooter from way back ; while Billy 
and H. , the other two of the party, were quail shooters, 
but not well up in deer shooting. Last, but by no means 
least in importance, was old Joe, whom the readers of 
"our paper" have frequently followed through its pages 
after quail and ruffed grouse. 
The journey was without special incident. It was 
just forty- three hours of plain, every day riding on the 
cars. The ground was hard frozen when the party 
started, it snowed all the way across Tennessee, sleeted 
and rained all the way across Alabama, and at Pensa- 
cola the house roofs were sprinkled with snow. From 
Pensacola to De Tuniak Springs, eighty-five miles, it 
was all piney woods, probably called piney because the 
trees do not grow thick enough to be called pine woods. 
The ground is sand and the lay of the land varies from 
level to quite rolling. In the bottom of the narrow 
valley hetween hills is always a narrow strip of dense 
thicket, the leaves as bright green as in summer. In 
the uplands the ground is everywhere covered with 
grass a foot high. For a description of the transcendent 
beauties of De Tuniak Springs, the reader is referred to 
the numerous real estate and railroad descriptions, that 
describe them much fuller and in a far better light 
than this poor pen can do it. The writer has some rem- 
nants of a conscience and still has some respect for the 
truth, and the fellows who wrote the descriptions 
referred to are not handicapped by any such trifles. 
Billy and M. T. had been down here last winter, and 
arranged for the camping, and supposed that their 
party would find their man ready to start their outfit 
into the woods in an hour after it was taken from the 
cars, but H. told them it would be to-morrow instead of 
to-day, for no native of Florida was ever known to do a 
thing before to-morrow. Sure enough, when they 
arrived they found their man instead of meeting them 
at the depot was out of town, but would be ready to go 
to-morrow. 
After dinner the party took a" stroll for quail, and 
found a covey which dropped into and along the edges 
of one of the ' ' bays, ' ' as the dense thickets are called by 
the natives. H. and Joe went into the thicket to rouse 
the birds. Billy took the farther side, and M. T. stood 
at one end. Billy walked up three, soon as he got 
through the brush, tried to make a double and got one. 
At the same instant H. walked up two, and got one, 
while the other flew out to M. T. , who downed it. 
During all this fusilade Joe was solid on another one 
which H. put up and killed. Gus, who carried no gun, 
was a much interested spectator, and his contempt for 
bird shooters was pretty well evaporated. M. T. marked 
two birds that got up wild, while the dog was getting 
the dead ones. Joe pointed one of these, and H. flushed 
and killed another while going to him. He then called 
to Billy to come over and have a shot at the bird which 
Joe was still pointing 1 . The bird came out on the wrong 
side of a bush and Billy missed, then H. took a shot, 
making a clean miss. Billy said there were two more 
birds a hundred yards down the thicket, and he and H. 
went after them, M. T. going down the other side. Joe 
went into the bushes and got lost from the men, but at 
last M. T. found him, pointing the bird Billy and H. 
had missed. M. T. missed it with both barrels. Joe 
then came across to H. and Billy, and found one of the 
birds, which was killed by H. The other bird was not 
found. After two hours more hunting without a find, 
the party voted that the birds were scarce and went 
back to town. 
The liveryman showed up after supper and declared 
he would start at 8 o'clock the next morning. H. told 
the boys they would eat dinner at the hotel and start 
about 2 o'clock, but to his surprise the procession started 
at 11.10 a. m. By sundown they had gone twenty 
miles, the sandy roads forbidding faster travel than a 
walk. At the top of a beautiful slope, covered with grass 
and pine trees, they made camp. A pole twenty feet 
long was put up between two trees, the pole being held 
about nine feet high by two forked poles leaned against 
the two trees. Against this pole other poles twelve feet 
long were leaned, and the big tent was doubled and 
spread over them. In front they built a rousing fire of 
"fat pine logs'-' and pine knots, which sent- up a cheery 
blaze and thoroughly warmed the camp shelter. At a 
smaller fire they made coffee, and fried bacon. After 
supper they lay on the bedding under the tent, enjoying 
the genial warmth, cigars, good digestion, funny stories 
and the anticipation of shooting fat bucks and fatted 
turkeys. But by 9 o'clock drowsiness prevailed, and 
one by one they drew the covers and fell asleep. 
At early dawn next morning everybody was astir, and 
by 7 o'clock they were started. Towards noon two 
hounds belonging to the liveryman took a deer trail, and 
were soon a mile away from the road, and presently out 
of hearing. An hour later they were heard again, and 
it was evident that they were coming up a bay (a 
small creek bordered by dense thickets), that headed 250 
yards to the left of the road. From the road to the bay 
head was a gentle slope, covered with grass and shaded 
by stately pines. It was a park, in perfect order, with 
no underbrush nor any rubbish of fallen trees or 
branches. The thicket at the foot of the slope was 100 
yards wide, the bushes 30 feet high and so thickly cov- 
ered with leaves that its edges appeared a solid wall of 
green. No prettier sylvan scene has ever heen spread 
before the eye, and no pen picture can give an idea of 
its beauties. Opposite the bay head the teams were 
stopped, and all the hunters except H. sprang out and 
ran to where the hounds should drive the deer. All of 
them ran ahead of the teams except M. T. , who went 
straight toward the bay head. The hounds were now 
quite near, and a moment later the deer came out, 
almost opposite M. T. , and seeing him and the teams 
circled to the left, going a mile a minute. Then M. T. 
began to work his Winchester. Bang ! Bang ! Bang ! 
till seven shots had heen fired, and M. T. stood in a 
cloud of smoke, and the deer ran on, crossing the road 
110 yards behind the teams, and H. had the rare good 
fortune to see it all as he sat in the carriage. He will 
never witness such a scene again, and would not have 
seen much of this one, had he heen trying to kill the 
deer. While this exciting episode was going on there 
was a tragedy enacted in the edge of the thicket, for 
there the hounds were killing a broken legged fawn they 
had pulled down. After the hounds had killed the fawn 
they took up the trail of the deer and were followed on 
a run by M. T. , and one of the teamsters. From the 
noise of the hounds it appeared that the deer was run- 
ning nearly parrallel with the road, so the rest of the 
party decided to drive on a couple of miles and then 
wait for the men. The noise of the hounds grew fainter, 
till at last they were out of hearing, and in an hour one 
of them came up with the teams. 
Then H. took the hound and Joe and started on a 
little hunt of his own, and as usually happens to the 
man who don't care anything about it, he got a deer, 
less than half a mile from the wagon. The hound- 
chased three out of a thicket and H. 's second shot broke 
one's back. A yell Drought the teamster, who carried 
the deer to the wagon. (It must be remembered that a 
Florida deer is a very small animal compared with the 
northern one. ) H. went on after more meat, and in an 
hour flushed a turkey from almost under his feet. He 
killed that turkey easily, and it got mighty heavy by the 
time he carried it two miles to the wagon. 
After the party all got together and ate dinner they 
held a council of war and decided to make their perma- 
nent camp. The site was selected in one of the exquis- 
itely beautiful pine parks, on the brow of a hill at 
whose foot there ran and murmured a brook of pure, 
cold water. All hands worked with a will, and before 
sundown the 16x24 wall tent stood among the trees, the 
baggage inside, the beds made, the stove red hot and the 
cook getting supper ready, while the rest of the party 
put up a dining table, wash stand, gun rack and various 
otjher little things necessary to the general comfort. 
Billy had named this first night's stopping place Camp 
Necessity, and now named this one Camp H. , hecause 
H. had brought the first meat to it. That night the 
party suffered some from cold. Some of the blizzard at 
that time sweeping the North was still following them. 
The stove was amply sufficient to keep the tent warm, 
but the pine knots used for fuel would soon burn out, and 
then the boys would wake up shivering. Next night 
they got some oak logs, and they burned all night. In 
two days the weather became delightfully warm and 
remained so all the week. The subsequent doings of the 
party will be given in a future chapter. 
O. H. Hampton. 
THE CALLING OF A MOOSE. 
Woodcraft in its many varieties is a study — in its en- 
tiretv a wonderful profession. It cannot he taught except 
in its minor details, as was clearly and delightfully done 
by Nessmuk in his little volume bearing on the subject. 
One can go into the woods year after year, and having 
competent guides, can by watching and talking with them 
learn much of the art. Especially if one is fortunate 
enough to secure for his service an old woods- 
man and hunter, one who has lived in the woods 
from childhood up, is this true. Passing as he has his 
whole lifetime in a lonely struggle to exist, through 
hunting, oftentimes without shelter or food, he has been 
forced to exercise all his ingenuity to keep from perishing. 
Dire necessity is truly the mother of invention. The old 
hunter has discovered methods and means of securing the 
game, that none other would ever even imagine. Prac- 
tice makes him perfect. He knows the habits and char- 
acteristics of all the game that he hunts, differing with 
the seasons of the year. Full well too he knows how to 
outwit their wisdom, calm their wildness, and above all 
secure them. 
Many volumes of intense interest to any and all sports- 
men could be written upon the subject of woodcraft. 
It is a subject without beginning or end, and could never 
be described even approaching entirety. The ingenuity 
displayed is wonderful. It sometimes produces some- 
thing from nothing. Givenan ax,nature furnishing all the 
rest in the forest, the old woodsman will produce any- 
thing. In desiring to secure game, if obstacles prevent 
pursuit, he will bring his game to him. If ammunition 
is exhausted yet will he secure game of all kinds through 
his ingenious traps. In a word the old woodsman can do 
and produce all things that life in the wilderness-neces- 
sitates. ... . . „.,, 
I have 'never ]'seen anything written descriptive of 'the 
possibility, or ..better still, of _the aotual_act_ of calling 
a moose along distance, to the very point where the hunt- 
er awaits him. It was my good fortune to see this actu- 
ally done, and as it was of intense interest to me I can 
well imagine what it will be to others. 
In going into the Triton Tract in Canada early in Sep- 
tember last, I was particularly fortunate to secure as one 
of my guides, an old hunter and woodsman, Canadian 
French, a man over fifty years of age. I quickly dis- 
cerned that he. well understood all of the elements of 
woodcraft. Almost every night I sat with him at our 
cheerful camp-fire, and listened to his experiences, anx- 
ious to learn. All that he related was of absorbing in- 
terest, so much so that our talks often lasted into the 
night. 
He had commenced life in the woods at the early age 
of ten years, and had continued constantly at it winter 
g,nd summer since. Without boast he could tell how dire 
necessity or unexpected circumstances had been his 
teacher to invent and learn. The large number of moose, 
caribou and bear that he had secured, indicated how well 
his lessons had been taught and learned. He had rarely if 
ever used a gun, but had been successful through the 
medium of his traps and his wonderful facility for draw - 
ing his game to them. He modestly asserted that he 
could imitate the pry or call of almost any of the birds or 
animals in that country, and in this Iris brother guides 
warmly substantiated him. More frequently he spoke of 
calling the moose and of Ins success in doing so. "Per- 
haps," he would say in his French patois, "we will hear 
one then, if you want him I will call." 
I often asked him to imitate the call then and there, 
but he would always say, "wait until we hear one, then 
you will see. ' ' 
It always hasbeen my ambition to shoot a moose, and 
unfortunately it is all ambition still. This was not 
through any fault of Lavoe, nor mine, only unfortunately 
circumstances. He fully proved his adeptness, and had 
not in any measrue overrated his ability. He did the 
calling, I was ready to do the shooting, but — I am 
digressing. 
Naturally I was all eagerness to see the feat of moose 
calling performed, and during allot' our canoe expedi- 
tions for fish or game, I believe that I did much listening 
for them to the detriment of my other sport. Two weeks 
passed and I was unreAvarded. Three caribou, a cub 
bear, small game, and trout unnumbered had kept four 
tables well supplied. Yet no moose in the flesh- nor the 
voice of one was heard. At last the day came to break 
up our camp on magnificent Lake Batiscan. A cold 
hea,vy rain was falling, and an extremely strong wind 
blowing. We had been paddling up the Moose river for 
some two horns, when suddenly Lavoe who, had the bow 
paddle, ceased his labor and listened intently. Naturally 
I was all ears, but for the moment they failed me. 
Quickly turning to me he said, "a large moose, did you 
hear him call?" 
"No," I replied, I heard nothing. "How far away is 
he?" 
"Wait, I will see." 
After a few moments I heard an indistinct cry, seem- 
ingly at a great distance. "I heard that," I said, "how 
far away is it?" 
"About two miles." Suddenly in his best English, 
which was confined to a few words, he said, "you like?" 
All excitement in a moment, I answered in my best 
English, "You can bet your boots I do." 
He seemed to understand, or at least take it for granted 
that I did want it, and he immediately pushed the canoe 
to the opposite bank. After we had stepped ashore he 
seemed to examine the direcion of the wind carefully, and 
finally stated that it was "very bad." The Moose river 
takes its course through high mountains and hills and the 
wind being strong seemed to ricochet from all sides. For 
success in our attempt the wind must blow towards, not 
from us. After some study we concluded that our 
present position was the better one." The canoes were, 
drawn from the water and hidden in the bushes and we 
also concealed ourselves. Lavoe alone remained stand 
ing. Forming a tube of each hand and placing one. 
against the other, to make it as long as possible, he raised 
his hands to his mouth. Talcing a full inspiration, he com- 
menced in a low tone a prolonged, cry sounding like ou-u- 
u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u. This he gradually increased in volume 
to the full power of his lungs, then again making it gradu- 
ally die away. Finally ending in two sharp calls, ough!" 
ough!" This call lasted nearly a minute in its en- 
tirety. Eagerly we listened, and after an interval of 
two or three minutes Lavoe repeated his call louder and 
longer, and after an interval the answer came nearer and 
clearer. Following this Lavoe made his calls less often, 
and almost every call brought a response, each time 
nearer. 
There was no question of his success, and the two ques- 
tions arose, would the moose continue to come until he 
reached the river opposite? Would the wind favor us? 
Lavoe advised us that a moosecould not be content with 
another in his immediate neighborhood during the rutting 
season or thereabouts, and was always ready and willing 
to measure his strength with thejntruder. Hence the 
reason he could be easily called, if^the cry was correctly 
imitated. 
The calls and answers were continued at long intervals; 
and with rifle poised and all excitement I awaited the ap- 
pearance of the moose opposite. Nearer and nearer the 
answers sounded. Lavoe concealed himself, and it seemed 
but a few moments more, and our game would appear in 
view. Suddenly we heard the breaking of sticks and 
branches, certainly not one hundred feet -back from the 
water. I almost felt that I already had the magnificent 
head in my possession, when all at once the breaking of 
branches ceased, and for a moment all was still. Lavoe 
again made his call, and for a few moments there was no 
answer. Suddenly we heard a startled ough! ough! but a 
very short distance from the river, immediately followed 
by a terrific breaking of trees and branches, as though a 
large body was rushing through the woods at headlong 
speed. For a moment no one spoke, disappointment was 
seen on every face. Everyone knew instinctively that the 
moose.had winded us. This was where the element of ill- 
luck came in. 
Lavoe finally broke the silence saying, "It is too bad, it 
was a very, very big moose. The wind was bad. Next 
time better luck. You see a hunter can call a moose. It 
is easy for him, but hard for you."^ - - • c 
We again embarked filled with disappointment and an- 
