FdftfiST AND StfifiAM. 
3a 
early fall the habits of the moose bring him to the water- 
ways, lakes, ponds and rivers which are the principal 
highways of man in the wilderness, and he should be pro- 
tected by stringent laws until he returns to the ridges and 
upland during the fall after the calling season is over. 
To my mind the true sport is found when man puts 
up his woodcraft, strength and endurance against the 
king in his sane mind, when his senses are not blinded 
by passion and he has a fair show for his life. At such 
a time, with nature covered wnth a mantle of snow, a 
tramp through the woods brings out the real charm and 
beauty of the scene, and to track an animal equipped with 
nose, ears and eyes alert to every danger brings out the 
true spirit of the chase. Even then, under fair condi- 
tions, the moose is not a difficult animal to approach ; it is 
tant of the museum only, mourned by sportsmen and 
caressed by those that think moose calling sport. 
R. P. B, 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
With becoming interest, I have read the article entitled 
"Moose Calling" in your issue of Jan. 20, and am now 
disposed to take ground with Mr. Alden Sampson, its 
author. 
There are two sides to this question, each as varied as 
the other. There is no doubt, however, that to call a 
moose to his death is taking a sneaking advantage of 
the game, but, at the same time, one must not forget 
that the art of hunting is no more than wit battling wit, 
— 
MOUNTAIN SHEEP AND GOAT HEADS. 
Secured by Mr. C. S. McChesney in the Rocky Mountains. 
merely a question of physical endurance on the part of 
the sportsman to obtain the coveted and well-earned 
trophy of the antereled monarch in his rational mind. 
That part of the subject relating to the depletion of 
the stock can best be answered by those who spend the 
greater portion of their time in a moose country and 
liiose vvho transport the trophies of the chase. Such 
statistics as have come to me from my own obsen'ation 
and by inquiry among trappers, guides and lumbermen, 
persons acquainted with large territory of moose country, 
and from limited personal experience, lead me to believe 
that the larger bulls are fast disappearing. Crust hunt- 
ing is imdoubtedly practiced in Quebec, and to a limited 
extent m New Brunswick ; but in Maine, where the moose 
receive the greatest protection, statistics and reports show 
a falling off in both quantity and quality of the stock. 
Another wrong for the New Brunswick authorities to 
correct is the killing of moose for food in the lumber 
camps. A lumberman by paying p apiece can take out 
several licenses in the names of his foremen; and moose 
are killed in large numbers in this manner. The cows and 
young bulls are selected, as a bull after the rutting season 
is a poor article of food. One lumberman told me early 
in November that he then had 2,500 pounds of dressed 
moose of the finest quality hung up in his camps, secured 
under six licenses at a cost of $12, and that the meat was 
worth to him 10 cents per pound, the price of beef, or 
$250. 
Protect the moose during the calling season and enforce 
the present laws, or in a short time he will be an inhabi- 
craft against craft. In moose calling there is as much 
craft and wit displayed as there is in stalking your game 
in the timber — possibly more. The whole question to 
be solved is whether it is proper for a sportsman to buy 
this subtle craft, to pay hard cash for its use, and then to 
reap whatever profits may accrue. 
I contend that when a man himself calls up his own 
moose and shoots it, he is merely carrying out to a legiti- 
mate, successful end, the result of training, woodcraft 
and intelligence. Whatever may be said to the contrar}', 
it is a difficult matter to call a bull moose within range, 
and success in this accomplishment is brought about only 
by heart-breaking practice and long pursuit. 
To hire an Indian or pale-face guide to do this for 
you is like buying ducks in the market. In this, I agree 
with Mr. Sampson. But let the moose hunter get out and 
call for himself, let him practice and study and attempt, 
let him listen with supersensitive attention to the call of 
the cow or to a real simulation on the birch bark, and 
then when he succeeds in calling out his own moose and 
brings it to earth, he has done something worthy of the 
craft of a hunter. 
Another thing, moose calling is not what it is cracked 
up to be. For every sticcessful effort, there are probably 
a thousand failures. I don't mean by this fact that one 
maa must call a thousand times to get out a single 
moose. I mean, instead, that there is the sum total of a 
thousand attempts by others to the one moose that is 
killed. Moose calling is an overestimated art in the 
point of numbers alleging proficiency. Take it in Maine. 
A-sk a guide — no matter who he may be — whether he 
calls moose. He may be a shoemaker out of employmetlt, 
a factory hand rettirned to the soil, a farmer or anything 
else but a woodsman. He says at once that he can call, 
and if possessed of the power of divination and the added 
subtlety of second sight, he might call two deuces or a 
bob-tail flush ; but a moose— never ! I regret that I 
am called upon to use such figures of speech, but the 
truth is that there are about a dozen men in Maine, and 
less than that on the Tobique that really understands the 
art. No doubt, under certain conditions, a moose will 
answer anything. But how many men are there that can 
call the bull from a devoted cow? How many are there 
that can woo in a bull, that is sniffing in doubt of the 
melancholy murmur from the lake? How many of these 
men that advertise their "calling" have ever heard the cow 
whine at short range or have heard the dog-like com- 
plaining of the calf? Not many, I fancy. They say they 
can call, and when you hand out a horn and bid them 
lure the bull from his nightly wooing in the hardwood, 
how many can bring him down to the bog-edge or lead 
him into the open? 
Up on the Tobique, they hand out a few hundred 
"callers" when you ask for a man that knows moose. On 
the Point, near Andover, there are several baker's dozens 
of Milicete Indians that will swear by the memory of 
Manitou that they can call moose. Listen to them roar. 
If you have ever heard the sad complaining of the 
lonesome cow, the melodious sorrow of her wooing, how 
soon you, a mere man, will discover the cheat. In my 
opinion, there are not enough moose callers on the 
Tobique to make the question worth while. Denied oi 
their calling, the cheap sports will determine some other 
means— will lay out in some other fashion, and do far 
more injury than the credulous creature that shivers in a 
canoe, while some sylvan bunco-steerer penetrates the 
silence with a roar like the noon whistles in a factory 
town. 
Next to Andrew Coxe, the best caller on the Tobique Is 
probably young George Green. He has been at the work 
for seven years, yet he told me that he called in only seven 
big bulls this year. Of these, only four were killed; 
altogether, his parties killed ten moose during the season. 
This estimate of his was honest. I hear frequently of 
guides "calling out" twenty-five or thirty bulls during the 
rutting season, and from experience I am disposed to 
doubt. To be sure, that many may have answered. But 
consider, in the first place, how many nights in the seascii 
are fit for calling. How many nights are there when tlie 
air is still, when there is light enough to see. Bosh ! 
One thirig more: What earthly pleasure will be left 
to the novice who has long read of moose hunting when 
his calling is cut off? He has read and read and digested 
tales of the moonlight forest, of birch bark canoes steal- 
ing silently along the dead waters and of the air quivering 
with the moaning note of the birch bark. His soul is 
eager to do likewise. Let him do it. He will probably 
hire a" guide with as much knowledge of moose as of 
esoteric philosophy, and it will do no harm to the moose. 
Let him have his fun. 
Concerning the same subject, how about decoying ducks. 
This form of sport is considered proper and sportsman- 
like. How about it? If moose calling is barred, stop 
decoying ducks I Do I hear any answering voice ? 
Maximilian Foster. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In Forest and Stream of Jan. 20 Mr. Sampson gives 
his views of hunting moose by calling. My experience in 
hunting moose has been confined to three successive sea- 
sons some years since. In that time I killed a moose each 
season, two by calling and one by still-hunting on snow 
in December. With the fall of my third moose, my hunt- 
of such game ended. I had no desire to kill another. 
Mr. Sampson says that in calling the sportsman ha.s 
little, if anything, to do, except sit still until the moose 
comes withm easy shooting distance. My experience has 
been that it entailed considerable work and exposure. All 
my moose hunting was done in Nova Scotia, and the 
custom there, as I found it, was to call at daybreak. We 
employed both Indians and white men on different trips 
and they all objected to call at any other time. Their 
reasons were that, as the moose in that region were called 
a great deal, the majority would come silently to a call. 
Sometimes one would answer once or twice when a lon^^ 
distance away, and then having located almost the exac^ 
spot from where the call came, would come sneaking 
in and as it often took a long time, it would be dark 
betore he came withm shooting distance if the calling 
had been done late in the afternoon or early in the 
evening. 
In Nova Scotia we never tried calling from a canut=, 
the place selected was usually on the edge of some bog 
or barren. Many a time have I (when a moose would 
answer once or twice and remain silent) crept out some 
two or three hundred yards in the direction we thought 
he ^vas commg. Such moose had a way of coming in 
within a qttarter of a mile or so of where they heard the 
call and making a circle around the place, and as there 
was nearly always some air moving, they would be very 
sure to get to leeward and sneak off at once, i had 
this happen time and time again. In fact, the first bull 
i killed was by a sort of combination of calling and still- 
hunting. When we reached the spot late one afternoon 
where we intended to call the following morning, we saw 
where a bull had just been— bushes were twisted, ground 
pawed up and such signs. That night about 12 o'clock 
we heard a bull a long distance away, as the Indian said 
"talking to himself." At daybreak the Indian climbed a 
small spruce and called every fifteen minutes or so for 
about an hour, getting no answer. He then came down, 
saying that the bull might be sneaking in, and if so hi; 
would work around us in a certain direction, as there 
was a very slight breeze. The Indian advised creeping 
along on a small ridge in the scrub growth, and that we 
might see the moose. We had gone perhaps two or 
three hundred yards when we saw the bull standing 
still with his nose out straight, evidently trying to <yct 
scent of us. I had an easy shot and killed him at once. 
Two or three minutes later and we would have lost him' 
as he had nearly reached the leeward of where we had 
been calling. 
Now I certainly thought there was some hard work ly- 
