64 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. 23, 189^. 
Dave and I went back in the morning to Forty-Seven- 
Mile Camp, and as the teams had arrived shortly after 
dark the night before, I got my bundle and big gun, and 
with Dave for pilot we started for the Crooked Daad water, 
the home of the moose. We stopped at Fullerton's Camp 
again for lunch, as I had early in my Dangarvon experi- 
ence learned to eat at every camp I came to; for, as Henry 
puts it, "You will need it all betore you get out of these 
woods." Two miles from Fullerton's we came to the tent, 
and there was Henry looking as natural as life. This tent 
is only a temporary outpost in Henry's chain of camps, 
which extend from Louis Lake, on Renous, to Little 
Sou' west Lake, on the Little Sou' west, and from old 
No. 64, on the head of Clearwater, to the head of Bath- 
urst, fifty miles away, and including among the rest of 
the old favorites two new camps, one named after Mr. 
Irland and the other Renous Lake. Burton Lake, Louis 
Lake, Renous Daad water, Little Sou'west, Crooked Dead- 
water, Injun Lake, all these are old friends and call up 
none but pleasant memories, and by the time a man is 
acquainted with the ground they cover he will have seen 
a good lot of the best moose country there is in New 
Brunswick. The first question I asked was, ' 'How are the 
moose?" Henry said, "I guess there are lots of them, al- 
though I haven't heard many since Mr. Irland and Ris- 
teen left. The lumbermen are making a fearful noise 
blowing rocks in Dunsrarvon, and I guess all the moose 
will leave and go up country. However, we will follow 
them." 
Dave and I had to have another lunch, and after that 
we made up our packs and started. About four miles 
from here we came to the Deadwater, but before we got 
there Henry said, "I suppose it is a fine head or none this 
trip," and I said, "Yes." And I meant it. I wouldn't be 
bothered with the little heads sr>me parties bring out. A 
well-known Bangor taxidermist sent me a photo of a lot 
of moose heads, and among the lot was one good head, 
the rest just spikes. Now a small caribou head may be as 
pretty, even prettier, than a large one, and a moose head 
is a rough looking customer at best; but a moose head 
adorned with a pair of spikes is, to my mind, not worth 
mounting. 
I was to have my resolution tested sooner than I ex- 
pected. We got in the canoe and started down the Dead- 
water, and about the second turn we all saw somettiing 
on the shore that looked like a big rock. I was in the 
bow, Dave in the middle and H^nry in the stern; the 
rock didn't move, and we kf pb getting nearer and nearer, 
and at last up comes the head and shoulders of a moose. 
He had been feeding on the grass and stuff in the water, 
and so we could not see any of him except the flank and 
hindqi^arters. He saw us, but had not got our wind, and 
as we ware coming closer all the time, he straightened up 
and looked at us. By this time I had a shell in the rifle 
and was ready to fill him full or let him go, as might 
seem to be right when the time came. When we got to 
within about 50/d8. or less Henry said: "His horns are 
small. Don't shoot, but just watch him." He got our 
wind by this time and walked back a little way from the 
bank. Henry grunted at him and he returned the grunt 
in a kind of half-friendly, half-anxious tone with a note 
of inquiry in it, as much as to say, "Who are you, any- 
way?' We left him alone in his glory, which I think was 
far better fun than shooting him. I rei lly can't see where 
the sport would have come in to have shot that moose. 
There was none of the excitement there would have been 
in calling him, and I am sure there would not have been 
the sport there imdoubtedly is in still-hunting them, 
which is after all the nicest way, unless you yourself can 
call. 
We arrived at camp about 4 o'clock on the fifth day 
after I left home, buc this time can be shortened to three 
days by proper arrangement. As there was no snow, we 
didn't try to hunt any, but turned our attention to cutting 
some much-needed trails and fixiog up camps. In about 
two weeks there was a fall of snow while we were at 
Renous Lake, and in the morning we made a start for 
County Line Mountain. We walked arrcss the top of it 
and never saw a track, but, as Henry had said the rook 
blasting had probably fcired them up country, so up 
country we went. When we got to Injun Lake Camp 
we bad to take a day fixing it up and go over the line to 
No. 64 Camp. We crossed a new log road, and we 
kiiiew by this that the lumbermen were in the vicinity. 
Last time we were there it was three or four miles to the 
nearest lumber camp: now it is only about three-quarters 
of a mile. We sent Dave down to get some supplies, also 
the news, and Heniy and I turned to and cut our night's 
wood and fixed up the old camp a little, as it was a bitter 
night. Before we had supper cooked, in walked Bill 
Carson, the boss of the camp, and kindly invited us to 
come down and stay all night, adding that Mr. Lynch's 
orders were to bring us down if he had to fall a tree on 
the camp to drive us out. Henry, however, said he 
would stay, and by the time supper was ready it was 
pretty late, so we asked William to join us, and he ap- 
peared to enjoy our s nothered moose meat very much. 
William had been in the woods since Aug. 18 and had 
seen lots of tracks, etc., but had not snot at a moose. 
William stayed until about 9 o'clock, and then struck out 
for his own camp. In the morning, bright and early, in 
came Mr. Lynch and William, and Henry and I each had 
to take a talking to from good-natured Mr. Lynch on our 
refusing to go down to his camp the night betore. How- 
ever, we patched the matter up samehow, but he left us 
with the comforting assurance that as soon as we got out 
he would fall a tree on old N j. 64, as he didn't want us 
camping in his dooryard; his camp was where he wanted 
us, and we were to come as often as we liked and stay as 
long as we pleased; no more lying out while we were so 
handy to his operations. 
That night it snowed, and in the morning we started 
up the ridge to try for a moose. We had seen lots of 
tracks the day before, but we walked two miles before 
we struck anything this time. At last we came to the 
trail of a two-year-old, and followed along for about a 
quarter of a mile and came on the moose lying down. 
We sighted him just as he got up, and it was a shap shot 
at 75yd8. I thought I had missed, but Henry said, "No, 
there is blood. It comes out of his mouth. He is our 
moose." And so it proved, for we came, on him stone 
dead about SOOyds. from where I shot. We dressed him 
out in good shape and starttd for camp. The next day 
being rainy ana soft, we tried for another. Tnis day the 
tracks were so thick on the ridge we got on that ic was 
almost impossible to follow them. We jumped a lot, and 
saw some cows and calves, but not a good set of horns did 
we see, so did not fire a shot. The one I shot the day be- 
fore was' to eat. On the way to camp we struck a cari- 
bou track, and as he was going our way we followed 
him. We jumped him in a fir grove, and I had a snap 
shot at him, but I only succeeded in putting the bullet 
through an old fir stub. Henry's only comment was, 
"Too slow." and as I had to say something I quoted 
from old Joe Mitchell, my old Indian guide: "Let him 
go to the devil; plenty more." 
The next day it froze hard, making very noisy hunting, 
so Henry went to Cranston Lake to see about some traps, 
and I went out alone. I routed an old cow and two 
calves berore I had been out ten minutes, and inside of 
half an hour I routed three more. I then started for 
camp and had the ill luck to start a bull. It was very 
noisy, so I suppose he heard me half a mile. At any rate 
he started for the bead of Tobique before I got sight of 
him. Saven moose started in less than half a day was a 
good sign of game; but that was our share of them, 
We moved back the next day to Irland Camp, and on 
the way I got a very fair caribou. Next day we went up 
on the ridge near the camp, and there I got my first deer. 
They are just beginning to get into this country. Three 
years ago we saw one track, last year a few, this year dozens 
of them. They move in from the south. Maine is where 
they get the start for our country. They travel north, 
just the opposite of moose, as we think the moose make 
south all the time. As Henry says, they want to leave 
his farm, where they are safe, and go outside, where they 
are sure to get killed. When I fired at the deer the noise 
jumped three more deer, also a cow moose and two 
calves, as we afterward found out; so we thought the 
next day we would try another ridge. I forgot though 
to say that before we saw the deer we saw a cow moose 
with one calf. I could easily have shot the cow, as she 
stood and looked at us long enough for us to have shot 
her twice. 
Next day we struck oflE to Moose Lake, and here again 
we saw nothing like what we were looking for. All 
small tracks, except one or two large ones so old and 
mixed with others that we did not follow them. It took 
us less than fifteen minutes to walk from Moose Lake to 
Deer Lake, and on the way we saw over a dozen tracks, 
none of them over twenty-four hours old. We saw 
another cow and calf that afternoon on our way to camp. 
We got within 50ft. of her, but let her go. 
Next day we moved down to Crooked Deadwater, and 
the next to little Sou'west, where we put away the canoe 
for the winter a nd looked up old friends at Ritchie's camps 
on the lake. We never expected to see the day when 
men would go to the little Sou'west for a log, but 
they are there now. Their portage is seventy-five miles 
long, which is a long way. to go for spruce lumber 
even in these days. We called at Sinclair's camp and 
found the boss at home; also the cook, who makes as good 
sweetcake as he did last year. We stayed to dinner, and 
after dinner struck out for our own camp. . ; 
Twenty-three years ago Henry built his first camp on 
this lake, and until last year no lumber parties ever got 
nearer than Dungarvon, about fifteen or eighteen miles 
away. Last year they opened this country, and the first 
thing done was to dam up the outlet of the lake. This has 
raised the water and killed the trees, and now they are 
blowing down. In fact they have spoiled the prettiest 
lake in this province just for the sake of a few logs. 
However, as Henry says, "It can't be helped," and the old 
tops they leave will bring the caribou around again, so 
perhaps, it won't be so bad after all. 
Next day we made the Deadwater again, and next 
Renous Lake. Here I made up my mind to go out, and 
as Dave had been over to Fullerton's and brought back 
word that no teams were expected till Christmas, and also 
that as lumber was up they were opening up some old 
camps down Dangarvon, Henry thought the best way to 
go was to get over to Louis Lake and go out that way. 
So we started for there and made with packs Rsnous 
Ddadwater for lunch and old Louis camp for night. This 
lake is named after old Louis Bdar, a famous Indian trap- 
per, who had a line through this country about fifty years 
ago. The finest trout I ever saw come out of this lake. 
Ill the morning t made up my pack, said good-by to 
Honry and Dave, and started for the lumber camp on the 
trail old Joe and I had taken out two moose on two years 
ago. We got in among some lumber works and did not 
strike camp till about 4 P. M,, and found it unoccupied. 
There were sled tracks to the door, so we knew they had 
been there for the old stoves, and as it was too late to go 
back to Louis, we thought we would try to make th*>ir 
camp, although we had no idea how far it might be. We 
had not gone far when we heard a familiar voice and 
soon came in sight of Charlie Cameron, the boss cook of 
the Dangarvon. Charlie gave me the first meal I ever ate 
in a Dungarvon camp; but this time he was yarding logs. 
We asked him where he was camped, and he said, "Down 
in the old Holts's camp, about a mile. Better come down 
and stay with us" — wnich kind invitation we accepted. 
We put in a fine evening with the boys, as there were a lot 
of good singers among them. Here we met Bob Rjss, 
who is second only to the old reliable Tom Hunter in his 
ability to brave the dangers of the Dungarvon portage. 
He it was who was along with Mr. Irland when they 
came across the "lost man" two summers ago. He said 
he was going out in the morning, so I made arrangements 
to go along. We started about daylight, and at dark we 
got to Holts's, where I was glad to get a shave, a good 
supper, and a clean bed after five weeks spent in the 
woods. 
Smce I got home I have been much interested in read- 
ing a letter from Deerslayer, also some answers to it. I 
cannot understand where the sport comes in in roping a 
deer, then killing him with buckshot at a range of a few 
feet. How any man could do it I can scarcely under- 
stand, and I am glad that we have no such sportsmen here 
in this country, but then we are very much behind the 
times here; perhaps we will get up to that after a while. 
Deerslayer shows his ignorance of some kinds of hunting 
when he says, "and if he is a moose hunter, calling him 
up," as if the only way to get a moose was to call him. 
He also speaks in terms of contempt of pitting your skill 
against their instinct. And again, he calls still-hunting 
sneaking. So it is; but I will venture to say that if Mr. 
Daerslayer takes his rifle and "sneaks" up on a moose and 
gets him, that he will find that it calls for mor^ exertion 
than his old way, and also that he will stand much higher 
in the opinions of the readers of Forest ai?d Stream than 
he does now. 
We saw on the trip seventeen moose, three caribou and 
threl deer. We jumped twenty-nine moose. We also 
saw a beaver dam, houses and beaver. There are nearly 
. twenty families of beavers on Henry's ground, all told. 
BluenosB. 
INTERCOMMUNICATION OF WOLVES. 
The united testimony of trappers and hunters gives the' 
wolf the highest place, or at least one of the highest 
places, in the scale of intelligence among the wild mam- 
mals of North America. A similar verdict might have 
been reached on purely hypothetical grounds, for the wolf 
is the only species which at once takes its prey by strata-, 
gem, saves its own skin by artifice, and supplies the 
place of speed and strength by combination and concerted 
attack. 
It is the only sociable beast of prey in our limits, and in 
obedience to two well-known principles we might expect 
to find the species more highly gifted than any other with 
the power of intercommunication. 
These principles are: 
The more intelligent an animal is, the greater its powet' 
of intercommunication. 
The more sociable an animal is, the greater its power of 
intercommunication. 
It seems that experience justifies this conclusion, for 
wolves are known to have remarkable power of intercom-^ 
munication, although how it is effected has not been satis- 
factorily determined. 
As illustrations and proofs: Wolves in a given locality 
are known to learn quickly the nature of any traps that 
are prepared for them, and this cannot be the result of 
first-hand knowledge; for the wolf which is caught and 
gets away again, or has seen a comrade caught, must be 
rare. Yet all the wolves fear and avoid the trap. More 
than this, the dam teaches her young to do so as soon ae 
they can follow her about. Precisely the same remarks 
apply to poison; the wolves in a new country are easily 
poisoned, but soon the information is spread among them 
and it becomes very difficult to poison them. 
Similarly wolves soon learn to dread firearms, and to. 
avoid all men m the daylight on account of their being 
known to carry them. A curious illustration came under 
my notice last winter. The cowboys on a certain cattle 
range had orders to fire at every gray wolf as soon as 
seen, with a view to driving them from the neighbor- 
hood. One cowboy was watching through a telescope a 
wolf a mile away when another fired at it; the ball struck 
the bank behind the wolf, which at once ran to the spot 
and was examining it, when a few seconds later the 
faint report reached him. At once he showed that he 
knew what it was, for he ran as hard as he could till out 
of sight. Dr. Merriam, in his "Mammals of the Adiron- 
dacks," relates a circumstance which may possibly be an 
evidence of intercommunication of a remarkable charac- 
ter. The wolves were very numerous and destructive in 
those mountains until the State offered a bounty for every 
wolf killed. Although after this no more than usual were 
killed in a season, the wolves immediately afterward dis- 
appeared, or at least became extremely rare. 
In seeking to investigate the methods of intercommuni- 
cation we are apt to attach by far the most importance to > 
the voice, because it is our chief means; but it is an open I 
question whether scent does not serve the dog tribes more 
often than sound, and it will be seen that in the lower ani- 
mals generally all the senses do duty as transmitters of 
ideas. 
1. Sight — Animals learn from each other gestures when 
an enemy or probable quarry is near. For example, a 
duck sees a hawk in the sky and at once turns his head tO' 
watch it, the other ducks see the gesture and imitate it or 
make for shelter; a fox out hunting with her young sud- 
denly squats, the cubs do not see what she does, but equat 
because they see her do it; a dog sees another digging at a 
rabbit hole, and at once goes to see what there is in it. 1 
No one can watch two dogs playing or quarreling without 
noting a great number of silent gestures used to convey i 
ideas from one to the other. 
3. Sound — It is almost unnecessary to illustrate the 
U3e of sound as a means of transferring ideas. A cow i 
calls her calf; a rooster calls the hens; a partridge alarms . 
her brood with a nate; a dog barks to call his master's 
attention to anything. We ourselves use sound (or sound 
signs on paper) so much more than any other means that 
we are apt to forget that there are other means of inter- 
c ommunication. 
3. Touch — Little pigs, calves, etc., punch the mother's 
udder with their noses to let her know that they are 
hungry; a horse nibbles his comrade on a part of the 
body to show where he wishes his comrade to nibble him; 
ants and bees are said to intercommunicate by touching , 
their antennae, and animals lick and stroke each other in 
token of affection. 
4. Taste. — This sense is perhaps the least used as a 
transmitter. Dogs and wolves are occasionally seen to 
touch their open mouths, but it would be hard to prove 
that they thereby intercommunicated any idea. Young 
rabbits, however, are sometimes seen to taste their 
mother's lips to make sure before eating certain foods. 
5. Smell.— A.i first sight, smell might seem of minor 
importance as an intercom municator, though its prime 
value as a means of acquiring ideas first hand is not open 
to questiojn. My observations to satisfy myself on this 
point have developed some curious facts, which I shall 
set forth as briefly as possible: , 
Scientists who have examined the matter declare that 
scent is by far the most wonderful of the senses. It is 
difficult for us to believe this, for the human species has 
nearly lost the faculty, and is incapable of judging I 
a priori, just as it is impossible to give a blind man any 
clear conception of the wonders of sight. It is very cer- 
tain that all things on earth have their distinctive odor, 
and this is readily proven. There is no known material 
that does not in time lose of its substance when exposed 
to the air; there is no known substance that will not in 
time be entirely dissipated by such exposure; and it is ' 
this atmospheric solution of the substance which is its 
odor. To illustrate: There are but few more indestruc- 
tible substances than rubber, beeswax, copper or bronze, 
and yet even to the blunt human sense they have a per* 
ceptible odor, ; , ; V .. 
To show the fineness of the' seidse and the infinitesimal 
amount of substance requisite to produce a sensation, let 
