106 
FOREST AND bTREAM. 
cdfhstalk; and my habit was when we hunted in com- 
pany to stand around in a state of amazement, firmg off 
my gun occasionally to establish my whereabouts, while 
my associate depleted the coveys; therefore, I was not 
dumfounded at all when the two of us went over to 
Sawmill Lake one afternoon that the settmg sun did not 
shine on pockets overburdened with game in my own 
coat, though it disclosed in the garment of my friend great 
protuberances that gave to his appearance an mipressive 
dignity. 
Zealous indeed had been the work of our setter up to 
a moment when shadows of high growth along shore 
extended far out over the belt of palmetto cover, and of 
pines on our left threaded distances into the forest be- 
yond, so her refusal to obey a command of the Doctor 
for her to enter a gloomy thicket and retrieve a dead 
bird caused to us no little amount of astonishment. Her 
persistent occupancy, thereafter of a seat in the pal- 
mettos rearward, where she employed herself in lifting 
alternately her front paws as if the ground contained a 
blistering heat, and her pitiable whining imparted to 
us something of her perturbation. Doctor assured me 
that we had come upon a mystery, for our fox hound to 
unravel, and set forth in the direction of our buckboard, 
half a mile away, where the needed reinforcement 
languished enchained. 
It must be confessed that I viewed with disapproba- 
tion my being left thus alone vi^ith a trembling dog to face 
bushes from which a skulking brute of savage disposition 
might at any moment project itself upon us and rend 
us into so many shreds; for while our lurking neighbor 
might prove to be only a fox or some other harmless 
small animal, yet there was a possibility of it showing 
itself to be either a catamount or a bear or a more 
ferocious creature, and my active contemplation was un- 
pleasantly affected at the time by a vivid remembrance of 
having recently seen at a point not a mile away an im- 
print of a heavily clawed foot, where the sandy road had 
been crossed by a large panther, or, in local parlance, an 
Indian devil. The absence of Doctor, I thought, was 
prolonged by him to a cruel extent. 
Not for the wealth of Golconda would I have precipi- 
tated myself with only teeth for defense into the un- 
probed mysteries of that darkening jungle, and then have 
proclaimed to all the carnivora of Florida where they 
must seek for me; hence, I was greatly impressed by the 
bravery of our unleashed hound as he rushed hither and 
thither, at times a few yards from us and at others far 
away, his noisy shouts becoming each moment more 
vociferous. It was sufficient for me with enormous 
charges of buckshot in my gun to overcome my trepida- 
tions when the chase passed within ten yards of my posi- 
tion among dense palmetto growth, and to follow the 
limits of the thick cover when the running headed down 
the lake shore. The loud detonations of a gun and the 
spirited blasts of a horn blown by Doctor to announce 
that he had satisfactorily treated our quarry were in my 
mind the sweetest music. 
A search of only a few moments thereafter revealed my 
companion with a pine stump in hand, where he delivered 
blows more resounding than the impact against threshing 
floor of a highly swung flail, and it was soon discovered 
that the purpose of such energetic belaboring was the 
final extinguishment of life from the constantly reviving 
carcass of a large animal, which I was breathlessly in- 
formed was a wildcat, but which seemed to my ignorance 
from the vast proportions, to be no more nor less than a 
lynx, though the latter, so far as I know, was never an 
inhabitant of the Florida woods. The specimen before us, 
however, in addition to its unusual size, exhibited the 
clearest abdominal occulation and vertebral stripe that we 
had ever seen. 
An uncouth creature indeed lay stretched out for our 
inspection when the Doctor, completely exhausted, finally 
desisted from his club practice. The size exceeded either 
that of the fox hound or of the setter. Such cumbersome 
legs might have belonged to a creature several times as 
great. The ferocious countenance was rendered more 
expressive by an enlarged eye that had become sightless 
from a wound receivd on some previous occasion. Such 
a visage was terrible in the twilight. I concluded then 
and there that quail hunting in Florida where the sport 
is pursued amid the haunts of carnivera so loathsome as 
the animal killed by Doctor might be productive of very 
thrilling adventure. 
To the existence of so many predaceous wild ani- 
mals far out in the wilderness may be attributed, I think, 
the remarkable insistency with which quail attach them- 
selves to the vicinity of camps or of herds where the pres- 
ence of the larger domestic animals may be a protection. 
The combativeness of cattle, especially, must be a de- 
terring influence to wildcats and the other marauders of 
the forest. Our most courageous dogs, even, regarded 
with disapproval the onslaughts of pugnacious mother- 
cows. I remember a laughable occasion on which, while 
we were holding a covey amid the horn thrusts of vicious 
cattle, the bawling herd thus showed that they could 
be very attractive to the quail, and yet very destructive 
to the enemies of these birds. The bravest wildcat, no 
doubt, would retreat in despair from such an array of 
thrusting cattle — a phalanx from which even the panther 
has been known to seek refuge. 
Our own conduct in attacking the coveys of little 
feathered visitors to the vicinity of our camps, though un- 
doubtedly very reprehensible, was easily pardoned by a 
conscience allured with visions of spitted quail and of 
camp toast prepared around evening fires, whose light 
revealed the adjacent forest and struggled mightily to ex- 
pel every squirming shadow, while stars like glorious eyes 
beamed at us their sympathy, and pine trees murmured 
thanks for the aroma fed to their brooding tops by our 
cooking. Delectable affairs were these night repasts, to 
which were often added coffee and buttered sweet potatoes 
and even roasted wild duck and cold pie, 
The presence of so m.any quail in the palmettos near 
camp during a sojourn in the woods, also brought about 
contrasts in the purpose of our hunting. The hounds 
caused great consternation one morning while we were 
oursuing a bear and two cubs through dense small growth, 
by returning to us unexpectedly and overthrowing Doctor 
''n fheir fright, 3 disturbing episode that was immediately 
followed by a few hours of shooting at the birds of a 
covey near our tent, and of fishing with small frogs in the 
jake, thus exhibiting what wide limits to sport exist out in 
these pine woods, where terrorism and tranquillity are 
almost one sensation. That Bob White, who had always 
been such a pleasant companion near town, should also 
dwell out among those wild haunts of the bear was to 
me an interesting discovery. He was courageous to 
venture so far beyond the habitat of all other small birds. 
His love notes and covey calls domesticated the wilder- 
,,pec H. R. Steigek. 
Moose Calling, 
Scotch Lake, York County, N. B., Jan. 2g.— Editor 
Forest and Stream: In an editorial in Forest and Stream 
of Jan. 20 you ask for a free expression of opinion from 
those who devote their time to following moose, on Mr. 
Alden Sampson's article in the same number on moose 
calling; so I make this an excuse for my writing an 
article for a paper, a thing I never had the courage to 
do before, 
I have read every number of Forest and Stream for 
eighteen years, and have them here in the house now, as 
well as several other sportsmen's papers, so you will 
admit, I think, that I ought to have a fair idea of what 
constitutes a sportsman, as well a.i sportsmanlike methods 
of taking game. Although I have been a professional 
guide for the last few years, or, in fact, ever since there 
has been a demand for guides for big game in New 
Brunswick, I have hunted in my time a great deal more 
for sport than I ever did for pay, and I take a deep in- 
terest in studying the habits, of all big game, especially 
moose. 
Now, in my opinion, there is much to be said both for 
and against moose calling, not so much against calling in 
itself, as in the way it is done. I think there are not 
nearly so many moose killed by calling as most people 
suppose. There are not more than one-third of the moose 
killed by calling that are claimed to have been killed that 
way, and if guides would study their habits more and 
call less, there would me more big bulls killed, as these 
wary old fellows are getting educated. 
To illustrate this point— I take out a young sportsman, 
possibly on his first hunt; he is very anxious to kill a 
moose, and his time is short. The first evening is windy, 
but he is anxious to go out. I take him in my canoe and 
paddle up the lake before sundown. The wind still 
blows ; it is a bad night for calling, and I tell him it will 
do more harm than good ; but he insists, and I call and 
soon get an answer. But the bull knows enough to go 
down wind of where he hears the call; he gets our 
wind and away he goes, and his experience sets him 
thinking. Now that fellow would probably have come to 
the lake anyway, and if we had watched quietly and 
studied the wind, we might have got a shot. 
Or again, we get the ansAver and he comes in about 
dark. We hear him coming and work down wind below 
him. After a while he steps out into the open. Still as 
death I work the canoe toward him. If he gets uneasy 1 
give a few low grunts. That keeps him there. Now 
we are within 20 yards; but it is too dark to see the 
sights, and by this time the sportsman is in no mood to 
see sights if they were ever so plain. He has not handled 
his rifle enough to throw it on an object without sighting, 
and he overshoots. The moose generally starts on a 
trot, making the water fly, but don't go ashore at the 
nearest place; he is more likely to trot 100 yards in the 
water before he goes ashore; and by that time the maga- 
zine is empty. About once out of ten times he will be 
killed. He may be wounded more or less badly, or not hit 
at all In either case he is badly scared, and you may be 
sure has learned a lesson, and the chance of calling that 
fellow out again that season is mighty slim. This is the 
kind of calling that I object to. It is exciting, but the 
merest beginner is not by any means sure of getting his 
moose. That is the style of calling referred to by Mr. 
Sampson. 
But there is another way to call, that I consider more 
sportsmanlike. It is surer, and is free from the objections 
of wounding game in a bad light, while it does not scare 
away the game, as shooting at it in the night does. Go 
to where you intend to call by canoe, if possible, as a canoe 
leaves no trail. Go before sundown, and call till it 
gets too dark to see your sights. Then paddle quietly 
back to camp, whether you have got an answer or not. 
A moose may have heard you, although he did not answer. 
But be back there again before daylight ; keep qiuet, watch 
and listen, and give the low call a few times at first; but 
don't call too much. Daylight is coming now and the old 
fellow likes to step out into the water and take a look 
round before sunrise. He may come in half a mile from 
the canoe. You see him as the light grows stronger, with 
his great antlers showing plain against the background 
of spruce and cedar. Doesn't he look grand, though. 
The canoe is swung round till the bow is facing him. 
There are a few whispered directions to the sportsman in 
the bow. Now keep perfectly still. Don't move a muscle. 
He stands facing ns, but can't understand that thing that 
is coming nearer so fast without the least noise or 
motion and without the slightest ripple on the water. His 
curiosity keeps him standing there spellbound. Now you 
are within 200 yards ; and he is getting restless. The 
great antlers swing round toward the shore; but a few 
low grunts keep him at attention again. The sportsman 
is getting nervous now, but there is a whispered "steady" 
from the guide. We will get closer yet, and the light is 
.getting better all the time. Don't raise your rifle till he 
begins to turn round (he will turn slowly), and shoot 
when is is fair broadside on; but shoot low. Again those 
massive horns swing; again that low grunt quiets bira. 
We are within 100 yards now, and that unceasing twist of 
the paddle, with the guides' hands hid from the moose by 
the sportsman in the bow is rapidly lessening the distance. 
He can stand it no longer, the noble head turns toward the 
shore, one front foot is lifted and set slowly down again. 
No need to keep quiet longer; and the order comes quick 
and sharp froin the guide, "Shoot !" The canoe is steady 
if the guide is an old hand and cooI_, the nitro cracks ; the 
moose makes a mighty leap; fur flies from his ribs; but 
he keens on for the shore. Shoot ! Shoot ! Give it to 
him ! But he makes the bank, staggers, falls and you have 
the noblest trophy that can be got in this country. Who 
says this is not sport! Who says that it is not a sports- 
manlike way to get a moose? or that it is taking a mean 
advantage of him? or yet that it does not require skill? 
Who says it does not try the nerves of a sportsman tci 
face this noble animal for so long a time and not get the 
fever? Certainly no one would say so who had ever 
been there. 
This is my way of hunting moose in calling season, and 
a very successful way it has proved, while it is free from 
the objections of wounding game and loosing it in a bad 
light. 
But too much cannot 'bff said against calling moose and 
shooting at them in the night. Our best guides here 
refuse to do it, except on the brightest of moonlight: 
nights; and even then it is not satisfactory. But the J 
reader must remember that we can't get a moose every 
morning. The sportsman's patience may be sorely tried- 
before success crowns his efforts, and much of the time 
he may be in the woods is likely to be bad weather. 
When we do get the weather favorable, the bulls may 
more than likely have all the cows they waiit; and to 
call is more than likely to alarm them. Then again, in 
many cases when the bull hears the call and answer's, he 
expects the cow to come to him, as they generally do ; and, 
the bull does not show himself at all. And you can't call 
out one of these old fellows by main strength. Often you 
can't coax him out, especially if he has been educated, as 
many of them have been. So, take it all round, calling 
is not so hard on moose as many suppose. Mr. Sampson 
says he was on Tobique last fall. I think I saw him there; 
if so, he will remember me. He will also remember a' 
fine moose head that we got about as I have described. 
There are a great many men who want to hunt moose who 
can't ..stand the hardships of a still-hunt on snow; and I 
don't think it would be altogether fair to shut them out 
altogether. Yet for a man who can stand it and tramp all 
day, it is certainly the best and most sportsmanlike way to 
get a moose, and I admire the man who has the sand to 
try it that way. 
Mr. Sampson is perfectly right when he says that wei 
ought to take care of our moose. It would be a great mis-' 
fortune to us if we let them get any scarcer than they are( 
now. They have been increasing very fast in this 
Province, and we ought to keep them up to the present 
standard at least. If none are killed, but what the sports- 
men kill in a sportsmanlike manner, they will continue, 
to increase. I have been over the most of the moose 
country in the Province, and I think I know what I am 
talking about, as a good part of my time the last twenty- 
seven years has been spent in the New Brunswick forests. 
Shooting at moose in the night with small-bore rifles > 
should be stopped; and this is in the guide's hands. If , 
they would only consider their own interests it would be 
stopped ; but they are so anxious as a general thing to get 
their man a moose that they would do anything to further 
that end. And yet that is the very thing that injures their 
chances of success. I have done it myself. I have run a 
canoe up to the biggest bull I ever saw, to within 15 yards, 
and had my man empty the magazine of a .30-30 rifle into 
his neck and shoulders ; it was bright moonlight, too, and 
we lost him. I have seen him several times since, but he is 
no fool now. If the hunter had been using a .30-40, it 
would have been our moose. Yet the same season I had 
one killed with a .30-30 that had a spread of 6x14 inches, 
but he stood side on in da^dight. 
We have had ten moose killed at our camps this last 
season, and I intend to say something about rifles for big 
game, but this is already too long, and if you should print ' 
it, I may try again on rifles. Adam Moore. 
The Ring-Neck Pheasant. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In your issue of Jan. 27 I noticed a statement to the 
effect that the success of the attempt to introduce the 
ring-necked pheasant into Massachusetts had been demon- 
strated ; and in the issue of Jan. 20 is a reference to 
the same subject, the latter article also containing the 
statement that the State of Oregon had been stocked ' 
from birds set free on one estate. 
As I formerly lived in Oregon, and have studied and ; 
hunted this superb game bird there for several years, with 
j'our permission I will make some suggestions that seem 1 
to me to be pertinent, and to have value as bearing on 1 
the introduction of these birds in this region. ; 
It is my pleasure to know Judge O. N. Denny, who 
first introduced the Mongolian pheasant into Oregon from 
China. This was, I think, about 1882, and for ten years 
or more the killing of these birds was wholly prohibited; 
and even now the game is well protected by stringent 
laws, and although, of course, it cannot be claimed that 
the laws have not been violated, it is still true that such 
violations have been unimportant. 
It is only in part true that the State of Oregon has been 
stocked from this one lot of birds. At the present time 
the Williamette Valley, where the birds were first liberated, \ 
is fairly well stocked. From there they are gradually 
spreading to southern and eastern Oregon; but as yet 
only a comparatively small part of the State is well 
enough supplied to make shooting pleasurable. Indeed, so 
far as eastern Oregon is concerned, the law still prohibits 
their killing at all. That part of the State of Washington | 
contiguous to the Columbia River is also in part sup- j 
plied from the original stock; and I have no doubt that i 
in time both of these States, or at least those portions 
thereof lying west of the .Cascades, will be well supplied 
with this game, if a wise policy of protection is con- 
tinued. 
But what seems to me to be more important to remem- 
ber in this connection, as bearing on the problem of the > 
propagation of these birds in Massachusetts and elsewhere , 
in the East, are the physical conditions surrounding the 
game where first introduced. 
Oregon, outside the cities and towns, is somewhat ; 
sparsely settled. The Williamette Valley alone is capable j 
of sustaining a population of a million people, if engaged 
in agricultural pursuits; and this comprises, perhaps, a 
truth of the entire area of the State ; whereas, the whole . 
population of the State does not exceed four hundred 
thousand. And the same is true of the adjoining State of 
Washington. The climate of these States_ west of the 
Cascade Range is mild, there being very little snow or 1 
frost. Aside from this, there is abundant cover for the 
game, and food is plenty and always easily procured. As 
you probably know, the ring-neclced or Mongolian pheas- 
ant, hatches and lives on the ground, very rarely taking 
