442 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[June 1, 1895. 
MOOSE CALLING EXPERIENCE. 
My experience in moose calling, derived from half a 
dozen expeditions covering the calling periods of as many- 
seasons, in widely separated localities, is necessarily lim- 
ited compared to that of many others. I am familiar 
with two methods of calling, one by which the notes of 
the cow are imitated, and the other in which the calls of 
both bull and cow are produced, each system embracing 
at critical moments the low coaxing call with the horn 
held close to the ground, and the challenge note of the 
bull, I have seen both methods successful. The imitation 
of the thrashing of the antlers among trees and saplings, 
by scraping a tree or the side of a canoe with the bark 
call, and the use of the same implement to represent the 
sound of micturition, I have heard practiced under favor- 
able conditions without success. 
It is difficult to convey by description an idea of the calls 
made in decoying moose, but the average man can, with 
a little instruction and practice soon master the art to a 
degree that will assure occasional success to his own 
efforts. The great danger lies in calling too frequently, 
and the principal obstacle to success is the ill-timed breeze 
which often arises, then if the bull is not already in that 
position he will work to the leeward, scent danger and re- 
treat silently as a shadow. The birch bark horn or call 
varies slightly in construction, and is familiar to most 
sportsmen from use or description. In localities where 
white birch is difficult to procure a section of the trunk of 
a small dry cedar or pine will answer the purpose. The 
billet is shaved into the required shape, split in two pieces, 
which are hollowed, then rejoined and secured with buck- 
skin strings. I have seen an Indian make one of these 
calls in a few hours, using only an axe and the inevitable 
knife with the farrier's curved blade. Several good speci- 
mens of these calls may be seen in the Museum of Natural 
History in New York city. 
The following instances are taken from the notes of a 
trip made some years ago: Sept. 11, take out shooting 
license No. 43, showing that forty-two non-resident moose 
killers have preceeded me thus early in one county of the 
Province. Oct. 28. — For six weeks have called on all 
favorable occasions, canoeing daily on the lookout for 
game. Ten moose have been called up. Three have been 
seen, two killed, one shot lost by leaving position too soon. 
Heard answers from only three bulls and distinct answer 
from but one. Most opportunities, probably ruined by 
winds. The moose secured were small bulls, probably 
three years old. They were 6ft. and 2in. high from hoof 
to ridge between shoulders. The antlers spead 24in. and 
27in., and their weights were 649 lbs. and 6621bs., includ- 
ing blood and entrails. They were cut up and weighed 
in sections with accurate salmon scales. Both were killed 
with a .45-90 Winchester, presenting easy broadside shots 
at 50 and 70yds. Each hit back of the shoulder, the balls 
ranging forward. In neither case was the off shoulder 
broken nor did the balls pass through the animal. Each 
fell almost immediately. I have seen deer and antelope 
run 100yds. after receiving similar wounds. These bulla 
were killed Oct. 1 and Oct. 8, they were lean and infected 
with ticks, and the flesh was poor compared to moose 
mea,t secured earlier in the season. They came to early 
morning calling when the air was still and frosty, and sound 
traveled easily a long distance. In the first instance, the 
calling place selected was perhaps 20 miles from the home 
camp, and the guide and I reached the place late in the 
afternoon. Pitching a very small slate-colored A tent in a 
thicket close to the river, we made a small fire from wood 
prepared several days before, cooked supper, floated down 
stream, caught three or four trout for breakfast and turned 
in to sleep. The call was made at 4 o'clock the following 
morning, and the sharp-eared half-breed claimed to have 
heard an answer, and heard it again later. Waiting 
patiently over two hours, as the sun was rising I heard a 
peculiar muffled, smacking, continuous sound, and the 
bull shambled into sight, presenting an easy broadside 
shot. The experience with the other moose was similar, 
except that no answer was heard, and a second call was 
given, an hour after the first. 
On another occasion we pitched the A tent on a lake 
shore, portaged the canoe across a short carry to a second 
lake near whose shore, some 400yds. from the earry, was 
a small knoll from which we intended calling in the morn- 
ing. We were there on time, and gave the third call after 
breakfast. While the guide was packing our outfit, I took 
the horn, rendered a verse or two of our national anthem 
through it, and varied the performance with many out- 
landish sounds. Recrossing the portage, we embarked for 
the head of the lake, and on looking at our late stand saw 
close to it a fair-sized bull, evidently watching us. We 
headed for him, but he turned and walked away deliber- 
ately. There was too much motion of the water, and the 
distance was too great for a probable hit, and I watched 
him with field glasses travel a short distance, until he dis- 
appeared in thicker growth. He walked slowly and care- 
fully, winding his neck from side to side and weaving his 
horns between the saplings, as if endeavoring to avoid all 
noise. The guide was surprised at these actions of the 
bull, as the wind would not carry our scent in his direc- 
tion, and from the guide's experience and various moose 
traditions, we should have been able to paddle within 
easy shooting distance. Since then I have known of two 
moose approached and killed under the same conditions. 
We laid out several nights, hoping to hear the voluntary 
notes of cow or bull, without success. 
On one occasion when the conditions were favorable I 
decided on calling at night, though the guide protested 
that at best only an uncertain shot would be attained. 
We approached close to the stand selected by canoe, well 
supplied with blankets, and were soon comfortably estab- 
lished, sheltered by a spruce growing near the center of a 
small marshy opening in the timber. The first call was 
made at 10 o'clock when the nearly full moon showed 
above the treetops. The answer was immediate and un- 
mistakable. The oh-dh—oh-ah—oh-ah of an old bull was 
as distinct and clear as possible. All was quiet for twen try- 
minutes, when his approach began with calling at every 
step. This approach, calling and stopping to listen, oc- 
curred many tunes in the next two hours, combined with 
much thrashing by the antlers, sounding, the guide said 
like a man falling with a canoe on a rough portage. It 
was now full midnight, the moon was high and the night 
unusually light, the air still and frosty, the moose only 
200yds. away, as revealed by the tracks the follow- 
ing morning. Any moment might afford the shot. 
Then the squalling call of a young cow, preceded 
by the deep notes of the bull, rang out sharp and 
clear. They remained near us perhaps half an hour/and 
whenjheard a second time, were fully a mile distantfand 
an hour had elapsed since the meeting. While they were 
close at hand, the bull challenge note brought back a 
short, hoarse, angry response, some thrashing with the 
antlers, and no more. To approach them, with some 
noise and the challenge call might have been successful, 
but I had firmly resolved against such a risk. The father 
of the guide and one brother, had lost their lives in such 
.attempts, and the preceding year, in this same locality 
two sportsmen were killed by a caller whom they were ap- 
proaching for a moose. The caller in turn, mistaking 
them for an incoming moose, shot. Most unfortunately, 
his ball passed through the neck of the first man and 
lodging in the head of his companion following, killed 
both. Twice in my own experience had I seen shooters 
called up, and had resolved to follow the advice of an ex- 
perienced caller, "never to sneak a moose." The call of 
the cow we had heard was not orthodox, which was 
explained by the guard's remark, "Young cow squall good 
many ways," It is marvelous how such a balky, clumsy 
animal as a moose can effect his retreat as noiselessly as 
he does in difficult ground. On one occassion a bull had 
approached within 60yds. of my stand, where I was well 
ambushed. He was to my left front, and in a low dense 
growth of soft maples occasionally the swaying of the top 
of a sapling gave evidence of his position. A morning 
breeze drew down the lake at my back; I felt it on my 
neck, and saw the brilliant leaves flutter above the 
moose and heard no sound from his cautious retreat. 
Examining the track later, we saw that he had ap- 
proached the thicket across a cranberry marsh, and that 
had our position been advanced 50yds., he would have 
been in full view while walking across the opening for 
200yds. We saw where he had turned in the thicket 
without apparent sound or commotion, how he had 
back-tracked across the marsh walking, and then turning 
to the left, made off at a trot. I have been present at the 
calling of many bulls, four of which have presented easy 
pot shots at from 40 to 70yds., and were secured. 
Another moose was shot by my cook, within 60yds. of the 
home camp, while I was at my stand 150yds. distant, 
having called twice myself, early in the morning. On an 
other occassion one of my Indians killed my bull under 
similar circumstances, though it is improbable that I would 
have secured a shot in either case. And once again I lost 
an easy shot by leaving my stand too soon. The largest 
bull killed was probably five years old. He was 6ft. 4in, 
high, girthed 6ft. llin., and weighed in life, estimated, 
l,000lbs. His antlers spread but 37in. On only two occa- 
sions have I heard the distinct and repeated answers of 
old bulls when coming to the call, though neither afforded 
a shot. Several times I have heard a cow call, usually at 
sundown. In the bull call— oh-ah— the first sound of the 
vowal O, slightly prolonged, is clearly pronounced, and 
the short second sound of the vowel TJ is given in the last 
note of the call; accent and inflection can hardly be de- 
scribed. The cow call varies, usually consisting of three 
notes— the second one greatly prolonged, and possessing 
the greatest volume of sound. Moo-waugh-yuh expresses 
the sound to me, and one of my guides alwavs contended 
that the cow said plainly, "Who are you?" I doubt if the 
first and last syllable can be heard at any great distance, 
and thus the call often seems to consist of one syllable. I 
have no doubt that old bulls sometimes weigh l,5001bs., or 
even more; but know nothing personally of such. I once 
measured a pair of moose antlers, in the city of Quebec, 
which Bpread 60 in., and have seen in the office of the 
steamship company at Digby, Nova Scotia, a very large 
pair, said to spread 74in. I believe that moose come most 
readily to a night call, and have on several occasions 
drawn them close to my camp after dark, though with no 
expectation of a shot. I have heard from trustworthy 
sources of bulls, deceived by the challenge call, charging 
to within a few yards of the caller on moonlight nights, 
then stopped by a shout, and easily killed. A .45-90 car- 
tridge is ample for any moose if the ball is well directed, 
but a certain percentage of them will miss fire, sometimes 
under most annoying conditions. I have grown to pin 
my faith to a short, heavy, double semi-express by Purdey, 
using 150grs. No. 6 powder, with a solid ball of 490grs. 
and a slightly hollowed ball of 440grs. It kills quickly 
and mercifully. A most useful little weapon on any hunt 
for large game will be found in a light .22, or better still, 
,25cal. rifle. It will enable you to bag many ruffed grouse, 
now and then a black duck or mallard, affording much 
amusement, and the report is not loud enough to disturb 
game at any distance. In most districts where moose are 
found, heavy rains are apt to prevail during the calling 
season, and a good waterproof coat and long wading boots 
are essential to comfort. They are clumsy things for 
walking or shooting, but occupy small space in the canoe 
when not in use. Edward E. Flint. 
THE FIRST TIME ON A RUNWAY. 
I had spent several weeks at Charleston, Ontario, bass 
fishing in Charleston Lake with fair luck, taking ten to 
fifteen bass each day, weight 1 to 3flbs., with live 
bait trolling on a 7oz. rod, when a friend from 
New York city came up and took a seat with me 
in_ my boat for a week's fishing. Thence I deter- 
mined to go to Childwald, St. Lawrence county, N. 
Y., to try my luck with deer. On Saturday morning, 
Sept. 26, having engaged Alvin Gale as guide— one of the 
best in the Adirondacks — we started for Grasse River 
Camp, and after a drive of three and a half miles reached 
the camp, accompanied by a gentleman from New York 
and his guide. Accompanied by a gentleman and his 
guide, whom we found at camp, all six started out to find 
a deer. It is against the law to hunt deer with dogs in 
St. Lawrence county, so the guides placed us there on a 
runway and went off to drive the deer up to us. 
The guide had left me only a few minutes, when, sit- 
ting on the ground with my back against an old stump, I 
found that by stooping forward and low down I could 
see some distance into the woods and underbrush. 
At length I saw some small object flit down upon the 
ground, which I took to be a little chickadee bird; but I 
kept my look fixed on the spot. Presently it moved 
again, when I distinctly saw that it was a deer's foot. In 
the thick bushes it appeared about 6 or 8in., which was 
all I could see. The distance, I should judge, was about 
150yd8. In a moment I could see more feet and 
knew there were more than one deer. They seemed 
to be coming toward me, and as I could not see their 
bodies at all concluded.to await events. Presently one o 
them stepped outjnto the clear about' 80yds. distant. He 
squatted when he came from behind the bushes, and as be 
was in the red coat I thought it might be a fawn and 
looked for spots. He walked immediately behind bushes 
again out of sight and then his companion, a full-grown 
deer in the blue, stepped into view behind a large spruce 
tree. The hind quarters with a small part of the body 
was all I could see. I at once drew a bead as close to the 
side of the tree as I could and fired. The smoke for an in- 
stant shut off my sight and I did not see nor hear any^ 
thing more of my deer. After listening a minute and Pot 
hearing a sound I started to get up, when the first deer 
made a dash out of the bushes, and with head and tail 
aloft with great energy made off through the woods be- 
fore I could regain my feet, 
I went to the spot where I thought the deer had stood 
when I fired, but could find no signs, and thinking the 
guides might start a deer my way, I returned to my stump 
and sat down again. -In about twenty minutes the guides 
came in , and when I showed them where I thought the 
deer had stood when I fired, my guide very soon went on 
about 20ft. further in and there he found tracks and blood. 
He followed up the signs about 40 rods into the woods, 
and found the deer dead and stiff, shot through and 
through the very center of the body. 
I am an old man, and probably shall never go into the 
woods again, but shall do my hunting in future sitting 
in my easy chair by my own fireside out of the Forest 
and Stream. 
I like to read the details of a hunting or shooting or 
fishing account, and thought perhaps there were others 
who cherished the same tastes and might feel interested 
in reading my story, which is strictly true in all particu- 
lars. ' W. R, G. 
"ON THE CHIPPEWA." 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
I have read with much interest from time to time the 
sketches contained in your valuable paper, and thinking 
that a few words from me at this time may not prove un- 
interesting to some of your readers, I will give you a 
brief account of a hunting trip in Northern Wisconsin. 
Oct. 3, 1893, found George Seamans, Ike Weaver, Dr. 
Hulburt and myself, accompanied by Harry Bartlett, our 
guide, at the home of a frontier settler, whither we had 
come with a team. Early the next morning we left the 
hospitable cabin and started northward, following an old 
Indian trail, for the head water of the Chippewa River. 
The guide led a pack horse, burdened with its heavy load 
of camp otitfit, blankets and supplies, while we followed 
slowly on in single file, each carrying a small load. We 
were informed by our guide that our camp was located 
about twenty miles distant. The trail in places was very 
rough. About two hours after dark we finally arrived at 
a rudely constructed hunter's cabin, which the guide had 
previously built for our use. We were all very tired from 
the effects of the day's journey. After a hastily prepared 
meal of bread and bacon, we rolled up in blankets and 
soon slept the sleep of the weary. 
As the first faint streaks of dawn appeared in the east- 
ern sky, our guide announced "Breakfast is ready!" and 
we all rolled out of our blankets somewhat stiffened from 
the previous day's tramp. After a hearty morning meal 
we buckled on our cartridge belts and with rifle in hand 
wandered about to view the surroundings. We found 
our camp located in a narrow valley. A few feet from 
the door was a large flowing spring. On two sides of us 
were steep hills covered by a dense growth of spruce and 
stately pines. Looking a short distance below our camp 
we saw the early sunbeams mirroring the bosom of a 
beautiful shallow lake. The silence of its sedgy shores 
was broken only by the faint murmur of the waves, the 
cry of the bittern, and the whirring wing of the wild 
duck. This charming lake, which is nearly surrounded 
by a succession of terminal high ridges, separated by nar- 
row ravines and deep gorges, has its outlet at the south 
end, and its cool waters after numerous windings join the 
Chippewa River a few miles below. 
We were in the heart of an unbroken forest which ex- 
tended for many miles. We did little hunting during the 
first day in camp, but spent the time in getting the lay of 
the country we were in, and in planning for the future. 
The thickets abounded in rabbits and partridges. The 
streams were filled with trout. Ducks loitered about the 
lake in large numbers. Game trails and signs of deer 
were plentiful, and bear tracks had been discovered. We 
were in a veritable hunter's paradise, unmolested and 
alone. On the morning of the second day in camp we all 
arose early and started out with our guns just as the 
morning voices of the wilderness began to break the 
deathlike stillness of the night. In less than an hour a 
big buck with magnificent antlers fell dead from a rifle 
ball, to the credit of Weaver. This was the first big 
game killed by our party, although all met with success 
sooner or later. 
Although the trip was mainly intended for shooting 
deer, we were agreeably surprised to learn that bear were 
also plentiful in the vicinity of camp. We were very 
anxious to meet one in the open, but they appeared, how- 
ever, to move about but little during the daytime, re- 
maining in thick cover until night. About a mile from 
our camp, in a deep ravine which leads back from the 
lake to the great timbered regions beyond, bear signs 
were found fresh and plentiful. 
After supper on the evening of the fifth day in camp, 
Seamans, who had hunted bear on previous occasions in 
the Rockies, remarked to the rest of the group, "Boys, we 
must get a bear to-morrow, or know the reason why we 
can't." The Doctor, who had already expressed a desire 
to meet a bear, consented to accompany him on the fol- 
lowing day in quest of the much desired bruin, and ac- 
cordingly the two started for the ravine early the next 
morning. They took with them a can of cold coffee and 
a lunch bag full of fried venison and camp cakes, intend- 
ing, if need be, to remain away from camp until late in 
the evening. Seamans also took from the provision sack 
a small package of honey, placing it in his own game 
sack. 
They were off before daybreak, and reached the ravine 
just as the gray streaks of light began to appear in the 
eastern sky. They were in hopes by careful watching to 
get a shot at a bear's hide at early dawn. Signs of bear 
were fresh, but no game presented itself to view. After 
waiting and watching until about 4 o'clock in the after- 
noon, Seamans took from his game sack the package of 
honey. He then kindled a fire on a flat stone which he 
found near by, After it had become sufficiently heated, 
