Not. 20. 1897.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
bug in a post, and when Tom had planted a bullet some- 
where near the bird's solar plexus, faithful Bobby, the re- 
triever, was sent to do his duty. But Bobby did not retrieve, 
not just yet; and on investigating the cause of the fuss Bobby 
was making on the other side of the fence, he was found 
barking at a large coach-whip snake, which had the bird 
tightly clutched in its ravenous mouth. As soon as the bird 
had been shot the snake had pounced upon it, and when the 
retriever came, the reptile stood coiled at bay. The snake 
was promptly killed, the dog finished his job, and the civet 
cat got his supper. 
Redheads and Sprigs. 
We had a three days' norther on the lat inst.. and the wild- 
fowl shooting on Nueces, Puerto and Capano bays was very 
good. One market hunter killed 145 redheads and forty-two 
sprigs one day, and reports of bags of 100 and over came in 
thick and fast. The bluebills are not in up to date, but I 
have just received a wire that Messrs. Stomers and Turner, 
of this city, killed thirty-five ducks this morning (11-15 
A. M. of the 6th inst.). Texas Field. 
MOOSE IN AROOSTOOK COUNTY. 
In company with W . M. Stowell, an experienced hunter 
I left New Bedford for Bangor on Monday, Oct. 4, en rovU 
for the Maine woods to shoot my first moose. Arriving at 
Bangor on Tuesday we left the same day for Norcross 
where we spent the night. At 9:47 next morning we left 
Norcross and got to Masardis at 1 :10, From there we took 
a carriage to Ox Bow, and after staying that night at the Ox 
Bow House we climbed into a buck-board and rode ten miles 
through the woods to our camp, where we met our Guides 
Walter J. and IT. G. Swett. ^ ' 
After a substantial dinner we got into our canoe and went 
about three miles up the Umcolcus stream. We were re- 
warded by seeing three does which we would not shoot and 
hearing two moose. 
On Friday we went down stream and saw five deer and 
two moose. The next day we went in the same direction 
and saw three deer feeding on the bank of the stream and 
one small moose. Sunday we saw a deer, a beaver and four 
moose. 
Monday we made another excursion down the Umcolcus 
and saw a big buck and a small doe, which upon our ap- 
proach quietly moved off into the woods. Tuesday was rainy 
and the day was spent in camp, but we did not altogether 
lose sight of game, for one of us, oiji looking out of the camp 
door, saw a doe crossing a dam about 500yds. away. 
' Wednesday we took a walk up to the lake, and before we 
had gone far we saw four deer. Mr. Stowell routed one 
and took a shot at another close to a logging camp. I shot 
at two large bucks, and the guide saw an enormous mcose 
During the day we sighted three more deer besides an abunl 
dance of small game. Thursday we went into the woods 
and saw five deer, one of which I killed, and Mr. Stowell 
got a shot at another. We skinned the dead deer and car- 
ried it into camp. It was no light load, and over the rough 
roads.was about all we wanted to lift. Friday, my guide 
and I went down the stream, and Mr. Stowell went into the 
woods. He saw three does, one of them being very large 
but he did not shoot. ' 
Satm-day, Oct. 16, we went down the Umcolcus stream in 
'the morning to Umcolcus Lake, a beautiful sheet of water 
about two miles long and half a mile wide. On the way we 
saw five deer — three does and two bucks. We went back 
to camp for dinner, and at about 5 o'clock in the afternoon 
Walter J. Swett, my guide, and I took the canoe and went 
down the stream about one and one-half miles. The guide 
called for a moose, and we waited until about 6 :30, but no 
moose came. We went up stream about half a mile, where 
we landed, built a fire, and had supper. 
After waiting until about 8:20 we went back again, and 
once more Swett tried the birch bark horn. We listened 
for half an hour, and finally I said to him: "It is quite cold 
and you have no coat on; let's go to camp and tell yarns," 
"Oh, no; don't be in a hurry," he replied, "you will get a 
,moose all right. There are plenty of them here." 
We paddled a little way back and waited. Suddenly 
there came a noise, as if all the trees were falling down. 
Then everything was silent, and though we listened for 
some time longer we heard nothing more. 
"Let's come some other night," I said, for it was getting 
late and the air -^as chilly. 
We had gone but a short distance toward camp when I 
saw a dark object standing by the stream. I stood up in 
the canoe and leveled my riflle at it, and the guide said in a 
owtone: "Moose." At the moment he spoke 1 fired, and 
the moose turned and started down stream. Forgetting that 
I was in a canoe, I shouted excitedly to the guide: "Pull, 
pull, pull," for I wanted to get another shot at him. He 
iashed across the stream, and all I could see was water fly- 
hg about 10ft. in the air. Into the woods he went and out 
le came again, trying to gain the other side, where he and a 
BOW moose had been feeding. As he came in sight I fired, 
md he crashed into the woods once more, but was out again 
immediately. He started across some rocks and the sparks 
Bew as they knocked together. He stumbled and fell on 
Ihese, but at another shot he got up and again made for 
Dover. Regaining the woods he lay down, and after light- 
ing our lantern we followed and found him stretched out 
with his head resting on a stump— dead. 
The guide began toeing the refrain of his little song, 
which was always heard when he was feeling happy: 
"My girl is a plain girl, 
My girl is not proud," 
ind we retiu'ned to camp. 
"If that moose is the first you evar shot," said the guide, 
"I never saw a man stand it so well." 
"Do all moose act as this one did?" I asked him. 
"I never saw one that did after being shot like that." 
One ball had entered the shoulder and broken oflE two ribs, 
while the other had gone inio the hip. I had fired six shots', 
3Ut these were the only ones to take effect. It was 9 o'clock 
it night when the moose was struck. 
On Monday, Mr. Stowell and W. G. Swett, his guide, 
Went down stream about one and one-half miles, and the 
'liide succeeded in calling three moose at once. One turned 
3fE and went into the woods before reaching the point where 
ihe canoe lajr. The other two were heard coming, and one 
Df them, which must have been a big one, judging from the 
iound of his bellow, which was like a fog horn, came to 
(dthin oOyds. of them, and then turned and went to the 
iouth. 
The third came into the water and then started back but 
it the guide's call again headed for the canoe. Paddling 
quietly toward the point, they came face to face with him.. 
He was about 40yd8 away and in the shadow of a tree, so. 
that only the tips of his antlers could be seen. Mr. Stowell 
aimed under his nose and fired. The moose was evidently 
wounded, but wheeled and went into the bushes. 
"You hit him quite hard, I should think," observed the 
guide; "but we had better wait until -to-morrow morning 
before we look for him." 
After having supper they started for camp, and the guide 
called again on the way. They looked around them sharpl v 
and saw, about a quarter of a mile distant, a shadow, which 
at first glance they thought was a stump. Closer examina- 
tion showed it to be a small moose, weighing probably be- 
tween 300 and 4001bs. He did not have a good pair of 
antlers, and Mr. Stowell did not fire, but returned to camp, 
quite disgusted at not having killed one of the four that were 
called. In the morning they took the trail of the wounded 
moose. He had not commenced to bleed until he had gone 
some 300yds. They found at intervals good-sized pools of 
blood where he had stopped to rest; but after following up 
the trail for six houis without coming upon him, they finally 
gave it up. 
The season was late for moose calling and also for still- 
hunting, as the leaves were very dry. Does were plenty, but 
it seemed brutal to kill them, and after seeing a wounded doe 
once neither of us cared for more of that kind of sport. We 
had been sympathizing with Mr. Stowell on account of his 
having but one arm, and that his left, to shoot with. On. 
the second morning after I had killed the moose he started 
out by himself. 
"You may talk all you please," he said as he left, "but let 
me tell you this: when I do shoot, something will surelv 
drop." 
I went out, saw eight deer, and came back empty-handed. 
Some time after Mr. Stowell came into camp, inquired about 
our luck, and then remarked that he supposed the guide had 
said: i"It'3 too bad that poor fellow don't shoot anything; I 
think he has buck fever;" and that I had answered: "Yes, 
I guess that's so. He's pretty handy with a shotgun, but a 
rifle is hardly his weapon." After joking in that style for 
some time he told ua that we would find two young bucks, 
which he had just shot, lying a few miles away, and that he 
would like some assistance in bringing them to camp. We 
went along, found the pair and brought them in on our 
backs, a performance which gave me a lame shoulder for 
some time afterward. Mr. Stowell had killed one buck at 
first shot, and on putting in another cartridge and step- 
ping from cover to get a better view of his game, he saw one 
more making off some .40yds. away, and a second shot, 
brought him down. That night, as we ate our suppers and 
industriously picked the moose hairs out of our tea, we felt 
well satisfied with the result of our trip. Even our cook— a. 
rare article who could not boil water without burning it — 
was in a happy frame of mind. 
As we wanted to make an. early start in the morning and 
my rubber boots were thoroughly wet through, it occurred to. 
me to dry them out by filling them with paper and then set- 
ting the paper on fire. The condition of the boots after this 
treatment may be imagined, but I managed to be on hand 
next day. We saw three deer and routed three more, while 
on Thursday, which was our last in camp, I saw two deer,. 
Mr. Stowell saw one and routed four more. 
Our trip was in everyway successful and satisfactory to us, 
and to all hunters who desire to employ honest, competent, 
guides, Mr. Stowell and myself can heartily recommend th& 
Swett brothers, of Ox Bow, Aroostook county, Me. 
MicHAEi, Shea. 
STILL-HUNTING DEER IN WISCONSIN. 
We were camped where the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. 
Paul Railroad crosses the outlet to Plumb Lake in north- 
ern Wisconsin. As I put on my old green hunting coat 
that blends so perfectly with the pine, hemlock and 
cedar, and picked up my rifle, I reasoned that a good place 
to look for deer would be at the south end of Plumb Lake. 
The lake is about five miles long by a half mile wide, and 
was frozen over at the southern part, which is surrounded 
by heavy forest, and it was only natural to suppose that 
the deer in their migrations southeastward would follow 
the shore of the lake and pass that point, rather than swim 
the lake so late in the season. 
As this was my first day in this portion of the State, I 
knew these things only in part and guessed at the re- 
mainder. However, the middle of the day found me sit- 
ting on a mossy log at the extreme southwestern end of the 
lake, with my feet on the ice and eating a cold lunch, while 
my rifle lay across my knees. Thus far I had seen no 
fresh sign, and after a rest started up the hill toward the 
south. Near the top of the hill I came on to the fresh 
tracks of two deer that had gone eastward. The snow was 
about 2in. deep, but however good the tracking I would 
not have followed the trail had it not been leading in the 
direction I intended going. I concluded to follow as long 
as their course led toward the railroad; and after tracking 
about one-half that distance came to where one had lain 
down for a moment, but, as the location had not suited its 
companion, which had kept on going, it had followed. I 
had never been able to track deer in the snow and 
find them before they found me, and I had no hope of 
doing so in this instance. 
We were now on the north side of a ridge that extended 
quite a distance to the east, and were following its base. 
We had come about a mile and a half over hills and 
through hollows, and had passed fallen leafy treetops and 
other good hiding places; and to follow the twisting, zigzag 
trail of both deer, together here and yonder separated 
some rods, and see everything within shooting distance at 
the same time, had been no little task for a first day in the 
woods. From their movements now I figured out that 
they had lain down before reaching the railroad, and 
presently came to where one had gone straight up to the 
top of the ridge, while the other went on along its base. I 
followed the last-named a few rods until it, too, started up 
the side of the ridge; but, unlike the other, it went 
obliquely, and led me to believe that the first one had gone 
east along the top of the ridge. 
Now, evidently it became necessary for me to get to the 
top of that ridge, and I expected to find my deer lying on 
the south side of the ridge, some distance further on. I 
took several seconds in making the ascent, although it 
was not more than 25ft. to the top. What I shouldliave 
done was to crawl up like a snake. But, as I said, I was 
led to believe that the deer had gone further along the 
ridge._ What they had done was this: the one to go upon 
the ridge first, went straight across it and some 50ft, be- 
40S 
;yond, and laid down on the west side of a leafy branch 
that had fallen from a tree, and in such a position as to 
see anything that might follow its trail to the top of the 
ridge. The other one had gone obliquely across the ridge 
to the southeast, then turned west, and joining its compan- 
ion, lain down on the east side of the leafy screen, with its 
head to the southeast. Thus, as I reached the top of the 
ridge, the deer were to the right and back of me, and the 
.one looking in my direction was entirely hidden from me. 
I was as unconscious of its presence as the one lying with 
its back to me in the open ground was of its danger. I 
thought the one I saw was the one that went up on the 
ndge first, and that the other had gone further on. Keep- 
ing my eyes on the deer lying there, with its back toward 
me, and at the same time picking out the spot to shoot at, 
I swung my gun to the right; but just as I raised it to my 
face, the deer that was watching me from behind the leafy- 
boughs sprang up and away, and my intended victim fol- 
lowed as suddenly as one quail follows its mate. The 
second jump carried them behind a cluster of trees, and 
though I took one snap-shot, I got no deer, for they kept 
the trees between them and me until out of .gunshot. 
Those deer were discreet in guarding themselves against 
danger from their trail; however, they didn't do a thing 
but run for theh lives until they came to the railroad; and 
there they stopped within twenty paces of a man sitting in 
a blind until he shot one down, and could have shot the 
other if he had not (as he confessed) got rattled. Thus 
ended my first day in the season. 
Some days later, while south of camp about two miles, I 
came to where deer had been running in all directions, as 
if being surrounded. I knew some of our boys were east 
and some west of me. The large timber was scattering, 
but there was a great quantity of undergrowth covering 
the ground, and of every species and size up to 10 or 12ft. 
m height. As I could see only a short distance through 
this shrubbery, I climbed a large jack pine that had limbs 
down to within a few feet of the ground, and stood on one 
limb some 15ft. from the ground, and steadied myself 
against another large limb. I stayed on that perch forty- 
five minutes by the watch, and as I neither saw nor heard 
any game, concluded the deer had been scared out of that 
neck of the woods. It was not very comfortable up there 
anyway, and I began to feel drowsy, so I climbed down 
and started on in the direction I had been going. I did 
not go 50yds. until a deer sprang up in front of me, and 
looking back sideways as if to see which way to dodge 
darted into thicker shrubbery. Of course I took a snap 
shot at it, but I didn't have time to get the gun to my face 
and the deer escaped. 
About a mile south of our camp was an old survey run- 
ning east and west. It is also a section line. The original 
naarkings on the trees are overgrown and hard to follow 
through the forest, but we blazed them afresh in places 
and as the sky was overcast most of the time and snow' 
fell about every twenty-four hours and obliterated the 
trails, we found this old landmark a convenient guide 
when hunting near it. The last day but one of our hunt 
I went up the railroad a couple of miles intending to hunt 
off south of the lake and come in on the trail in the even- 
ing. I made a circle and came to the trail about two 
miles from the railroad as the sun hid his face behind the 
wooded hills. I was on the point of turning to the right 
and taking up the trail for camp when I saw just to my 
left some fresh deer tracks that led to the northeast. As 1 
had something like three-quarters of an hour of twilight, 
and the tracks had been made but a few minutes, I con- 
cluded to follow the deer a short distance. Their trail led 
down hill over the point of a ridge, through a small prairie 
and along the side of a hill. Here the deer had been 
going in various directions, feeding no doubt, and darkness 
was gathering on the heavily wooded hillside. I followed 
on very cautiously, not knowing in which of three direc- 
tions the deer might be, nor how far distant, yet unwilling 
to turn back so long as there was any possible chance of 
getting a shot, and when on the point of retracing my 
.steps, and while peering through the gloom ahead for the 
last time, a large buck moved and stood with his head and 
fine spread of antlers showing in a small open space about 
50yds. distant. I could still see the bead on my rifle as I 
aimed below the ear, but just as I pressed the trigger the 
huck gave a bound that would have carried him out of 
danger had I not with equal quickness lowered the muzzle 
of my gun and pulled the trigger. The smoke from the 
gun added to the gathering darkness shut off the view in 
front, but off to the left in the little prairie I saw a deer's , 
white tail for a second, and there I found my buck. He ' 
had turned a half somersault and lay with his bead 
toward me, his six-point antler showing above the coarse 
prairie grass. 
And now I had quite a task before me, for it would not 
do to let him lie there over night, and whether I could 
hang him up was a doubtful question. When possible to 
do so, I bend a sapling over the deer, and after tying the 
head of the deer to the sapling near its top, cut off the top 
and the spring of the tree aids materially in lifting the 
deer from the ground. But in this instance there was no 
small tree convenient. There was, however, a hemlock 
tree at the edge of the prairie about 15ft. from where the 
deer lay, and I first cut a pole that would reach from the 
buck to the tree. I then cut two sets of forks, the one set 
about 8 and the other 12ft. long. Placing one end of the 
pole on a limb of the tree, I looped a small rope I carried 
for the purpose around the buck's horns and over the end 
of the pole. The next thing was to lift the end of the 
pole with the deer attached and set the short forks. Of 
course, I did not have to lilt all the deer, but his head 
must come up as high as my shoulder before the forks 
would hold in the ground, and that was a plenty. Suc- 
ceeding in this, the rest would have been easy on solid 
ground; but in this soft prairie the forks sank several 
inches, and by the time I had set the long forks and run 
the deer up clear of the ground I was glad enough the 
job was done. 
It was so dark I had to gather up my traps mostly by 
sense of touch. I went across the little prairie to the 
trail, but I could see neither the blazes on the trees nor 
tracks in the snow. I started eastward, and by lighting 
matches and looking at my compass when uncertain of 
my course, succeeded in going about one-half the distance 
to the railroad. But my matches were about all gone by 
this time, and not knowing but that I would have to camp 
in the woods, I put the remaining ones back in my pocket 
and pushed on. I had to keep one hand before my face 
to prevent my running into the low limbs of trees, and as 
