124 
[Aug. i8, 1900. 
he fell ill and came to Quebec and subsequently went to 
Montreal to consult his physicians. It was m the latter 
mentioned city, whither he accompanied him from Que- 
bev, that the writer saw him for the last time. Ihen 
he went out to his great sanitarium at Lake Clair and 
still grew apparently stronger, and then — the end. Death 
as due to cerebr-ai apoplexy. His remains were taken to 
Cambridge, and there the funeral service was held on 
Monday, the 6th inst., at the residence of his brother, 
'the well-known Latin professor of Harvard University. 
Mr. Greenough was the author of "The Cruise of a 
Woman Hater," but will probably be better remembered 
in the literary world as the writer of "Canadian Folk- 
Life and Folk-Lore," a charming volume of out-of-door 
freshness, and of studies of habitant life and manners, 
published by George H. Richmond, of New York, in 1897. 
It was beautifully illustrated by his son, Walter C. Green- 
ough, of that nest of artists. Upper Montclair, N. J., who 
preceded his father between one and two years in "cross-* 
ing the bar." 
Mr. Greenough's latest book contains many rare little 
gems of sport and camp life. Here is a description of his 
tent for winter camping : "Not too large for two nor too 
small for six— he who is not happy in it is not a woods- 
man and I do not want him with me." 
"One thing," talking of fishing, he writes, "I will say 
for ourselves — we never waste any fish. When we get as 
many as we can use, we stop fishing. And although we 
never get any fish big enough to tell lies about in the 
newspapers, we seldom fail to catch enough for our next 
meal." 
To the devoted wife, daughters and brother of our dear 
departed friend, the respectful sympathy of thousands of 
fellow sportsmen and readers of Forest and Stream will 
undoubtedly go out with that of 
E. T. D. Chambers. 
Quebec, Aug. 10. 
A Sportsman's Museum* 
Boston, Aug. ii. — Editor Forest and Stream: Some of 
your readers may be interested in an account of what may 
be seen in Mr. A. B. F. Kinney s museum, which is lo- 
cated in a large upper room of his residence in Worcester. 
Having occasion to confer with Mr. Kinney on matters 
connecied with the work of the Central Committee, I 
met Mr. Kinney at his store on Front street, and after 
business matters were concluded he invited me to dine 
with him at his house. That it is the home of a sportsman 
is apparent as soon as one crosses the threshold and- is 
ushered into the spacious hallway. 
I have mentioned the museum as one room. To be more 
precise, it is the whole house, with one room set apart 
for curios. Reception room, parlor, dining room— in 
fact, every room I had the pleasure of entering contains 
evidence of Mr. Kinney's skill as a hunter. Had it been 
any part of my plan to secure material for a letter to 
your paper, I would not have been without a camera. As 
it is, I will only mention a few of the interesting 
things which it was my privilege to see, and, in a general 
way, present a sort of summary of what trophies the 
house contains. 
There are no less than six heads and antlers of elk, 
four moose heads, an extraordinary caribou head, head 
of buffalo, shot twenty-two years ago, only two years 
previous to the last one killed ; a mountain sheep, and 
which for twenty years held the record as the finest 
specimen, and was beaten only four years ago by the one 
Wm. Jackson got on the Great Northern road. This was 
set up by Mrs. Kinney, who has often accompanied her 
husband on his long trips to distant sections. There is 
also a mountain goat, and mule and white-tailed deer 
without number. 
Specimens of birds include the ruffed grouse, blue 
grouse, pinnated or prairie chicken, quail, spruce partridge, 
Canada goose, brant, several species of ducks and shore 
birds, besides owls, herons, loons, etc. 
Of skins there is almost an endless variety. One of a 
grzizly bear I admired very much. Mr. Kinney told me 
that he has the skin of every fur-bearing animal of North 
America, from the grizzly down. Of fox skins he has 
every shade, from the black to the albino, or pure white. 
The upper room is filled with specimens of minerals, 
woods, plants, shells, Indian relics and work, as well 
as Mexican, many of them gathered by Mrs. Kinney upon 
her numerous trips, and all derived from original sources. 
Besides, there are heirlooms of every sort, from the old 
spinning wheel to antiquated candle snuffers. 
For nearly an hour Mrs. Kinney entertained us with 
descriptions and incidents connected with the collectng 
of the numerous specimens. 
I was much impressed by the great variety of objects 
which I saw having directly or indirectly a bearing upon 
practical sportsmanship. 
On our return to the office Mr. Kinney called my 
attention to a specimen of brook trout (t^ rill appearance 
a veritable Salmo fontinalis) of extraordinary size, and 
which may beat all records. Its weight wa^ I '^^A pounds, 
leng'h 36 inches. It was caught bv Mr. Alton W. Eaton, 
of Worcester, in Flying Pond, Vienna. IMe. on May 16, 
igoo. 
Our President, Hon. Geo. W. Wiggin; nur Librarian. 
Dr. E. W. Branigan, with Ex-Attnniev General A. E. 
Pillsbury, of Boston, are now in the Spencer region of 
Maine. Henry H. Kimball. 
5 Park Street. 
Quail in Confinement; 
BuFF.^LO, N. Y., Aug. 2.— While wheeling through the 
Park Zoo with mv fathfr vesterday. I heard the call, un- 
familiar in these days, of Bob White, and found that Cura- 
tor Crandall had made a new home for his bevy of 
quail, which have been in cantivity now about a year, with 
only a loss of five out of thirty-one. They seem quite 
tame and contented. Dr. Crandall toTO us that a wild 
quail had been in the vicinity all day and had tried to 
get'in with the confined ones. W. P. D, 
§mti^ §Hg md §m. 
A Chance to Get a Moose. 
It has been my privilege during the past few years to 
contribute several articles to bcribner s Magazine, de- 
scribing as best I could some parts of the British Amer- 
ican wilderness, which, greater in extent than the United 
States, begins at our northern border and lies as far to 
the north as any one can go. After each article has 
appeared, I have received a great many letters asking 
where to get guides, the expense of a trip, what to take, 
the chance for getting a shot, etc. So it has occurred to 
me that readers of Forest and Stream would be glad to 
know a few of these things. My only excuse for volun- 
teering the information is that I have been there, and 
personal experience, if simply told, is always interesting. 
The two most accessible regions for those who wish 
to hunt that grand animal, the moose, I believe to be 
central New Brunswick and the upper Ottawa country, in 
Quebec and Ontario. No one should think of going to 
either place unless he has at least a month to spare. I 
know a bicyclist who stopped over night at a farmhouse 
on the road from Fredericton to Woodstock, N. B. In the 
morning, attracted by the charm of the big woods at the 
back of the clearing, he borrowed a W. R. A. rifle, model 
of 1873, with four cartridges in its rusty magazine, and 
went forth. Before 10 o'clock he was back at the house 
and he had killed two big bull moose. He told me he did 
not consider moose hunting much of an undertaking. I 
also saw the mangled remains of a young moose which 
had been run down by an engine on the Canadian Pacific 
Railway, between Mattawa and Kippewa. But these cases 
are exceptions. 
In New Brunswick one reaches the moose country by 
walking through the woods for fifty miles or so, and in 
the Ottawa country by canoeing for two or three days. 
There are many stormy days, many days when the woods 
are noisy, and all these things take time. I once killed a 
fine bull in one day's hunting, but it took six days to get 
to the grounds and six days out. If it had not been for 
the happiness of the twelve days' journeying when the 
rifle slept in its overcoat, I should not have thought the 
trip very successful. If one expects to adhere to a 
schedule arranged in New York, so many hours to the 
hunting grounds, so many hours hunting, bang ! bang ! so 
many hours back to New York — if he expects to do that 
in the Canadian woods, he will be disappointed. In 
heaven we shall have all the time there is, and this re- 
semblance between heaven and the Canadian woods in the, 
fall is one of the most charming things about the Cana- 
dian woods. The guide, whether white, red or a little 
of both, will not hurry, and if you let him alone, and 
remember that he knows his business a great deal better 
than you do, he will surprise you by his accomplishments 
before the month is over. There are some men, and there 
is at least one editor in New York, Avhose motto is "How 
shall we punish our guides?" I am happy to say that 
such creatures almost always get the punishment them- 
selves, and the poor guides, as Jiey sit around the fire 
afterward, are blessed with a ."^tore of recollections which 
make them smile, and smile again. I have met many men 
under many different circumstances, and I never yet knew 
a woodsman who would not break his back for the suc- 
cess and comfort of a visitor who treated him at all well. 
If I could have the society of but one man for a thousand 
years, I should, I think, pick out a dear friend of .mine 
who, at this moment, is probably poling a pirogue up 
the Sou'west Miramichi, helping some city man to kill the 
last salmon of the open season. 
The best guides in New Brunswick are quite likely to 
be engaged in advance, and yet a man who gets on the 
train, goes to Fredericton, stops at the Barker House and 
gets acquainted with Fred Coleman, Billy Chestnut, Billy 
Walker and the rest of the leading citizens there, will soon 
get all the news as to whether Henry Braithwaite or 
Arthur Pringle or Jim Paul or some other guide can be 
had. A few telegrams to Newcastle' and Bathurst and 
Perth will get the state of the guide market there, and I 
would bet any man ten dollars that he could go to 
Fredericton unannounced, make his wishes known and 
in forty-eight hours find himself in tow of somebody who 
knew the places where the moose and caribou do con- 
gregate. Then, if he did not have moose or caribou for 
dinner within the next few days, it would be a case of 
bad luck, and a better chance next week. 
Men who have been all over the world agree that there 
are few earthly spectacles so glorious as a New Bruns- 
wick forest in the blazonry of the autumn leaves. Amid 
the somber background of spruce there is a plentiful dis- 
play of the yellow and red and brown of the deciduous 
trees, all in an intensity of coloring which I have never 
seen elsewhere. 
The Province of New Brunswick is fortunately situated 
as a game country. There are railroads on all four sides, 
but none across the wilderness to cut it up. Up the 
Tobique from Perth, up the Nepisiguit from Bathurst. up 
the Ristigouche from Campbellton and up the Nor'west 
Miramichi from Newcastle, it is easy to go by canoe, and 
the grounds reached in this way are more hunted and 
more famous, but not quite so well-stocked with game, 
perhaps, as the less accessible country north of Little 
Sou'west Lake, where Henry Braithwaite is almost the 
sole pilot who knows the way. For beauty of scenery, 
for reliable guides, for comfort and for certainty of get- 
ting shots at_ the most stately game in North America, 
New Brunswick !s peerless. > 
But while singing the praises of that wonderful land, 
what shall be said of that vast, little-known, seldom- 
visited country, the fairyland of the canoeist, which is the 
birthplace of the Ottawa and its brotherhood of a hundred 
lesser streams; where the lakes are so redundantly 
watered that many of them have twin outlets? There, if 
you are prodigal of time, you may journey by canoe for 
hundreds of miles, in any direction you choose and need 
only make short and easy portages here and there over 
plain paths which were well worn five hundred years ago. 
All along the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway, west of 
Pembroke, there is a vast game preserve which is almost 
limitless. The key to the whole upper Ottawa country, 
however, is Mattawa. If yon write to the Hudson Bay 
Company there, you will be able to insure care and atten- 
tion from the Indians and half-breeds whom they feed, 
clothe and control. It is a great mistake to suppose that 
the Hudson Bay Company desire to keep sportsmen out 
of Canada. At Mattawa the company run one of the 
finest stores in the country, and they supply provisions, 
canoes, tents, all one needs, at very moderate prices. All 
you need do is to write, saying, "Please engage me two 
men and supplies for a month, to go moose hunting in the 
Kippewa country," or in Ontario, and they will be 
ready for you. Ontario, as readers of Game Laws in Brief 
know, will have an open season on moose this fall for the 
first time in several years. 
The physical features of this region are very remark- 
able. Lake Kippewa, for example, has about 600 miles of 
shore. Yet scarcely anywhere is it ten miles wide, and in 
most places much narrower. Its shores are as crooked 
as if drawn up with a puckering string. Kippewa Station 
is on the shore of the lake. Many moose are killed here 
every fall, but the better country is further north, two 
or three days canoeing, or as far as one chooses to go, and 
the multitude of lakes and streams in every direction is; 
past belief. 
One can leave the railway at Temiscamingue, and go 
up the lake of this name by steamer to Bale de Pere. Here 
we may take canoe for Lake Quinze, and the adjoining 
region, where the moose are very plentiful. All through 
this region, since the killing of cow moose has been 
checked, the moose are on the increase. If one is am- 
bitious and wishes to go up to Lac la Barriere in snow- 
shoe time, he can see some good caribou hunting. 
North Bay, Ont., is another good railway point from 
which to reach moose country this fall. It is only a few 
miles by tote road to Lake Temagamang, another place 
that makes the sportsman feel like Alice in Wonderland. 
And I think the best bass fishing on this continent right 
now is in and about Lake Nipissing, on which North 
Bay is located. 
Is it not a fine thing now, gentlemen of the brother- 
hood, who feel that we were born a hundred years after 
the woods are gone—is it not a fine thing to know that 
there is a country like the one we have dreamed about, 
where the birch bark canoe is, as of yore, the standard 
means of transportation? In the chosen parts of Canada 
one can have just as good a time hunting as Daniel Boone 
had in Kentucky, with the added convenience that the 
Indians, thanks to certain Jesuit gentlemen of long ago, 
will not shoot you in the back, but will, on the contrary, 
cook a very fair meal and swing a paddle all day for 
two dollars ! Yes, for a dollar, if you get a hundred 
miles from the railroad. 
I have not said a word about the Lake St. John coun- 
try, because I prefer places where things are more 
primitive. There is a region of Canada that it would pay 
a man to visit if he had the time, and when he came 
back he could say he had been somewhere. It would take 
at least three months. 
Out of the unknown north, into the great Gulf of St. 
Lawrence, pour down a score of splendid rivers, far 
east of the Saguenay. Any one who has the least talent 
for geography, who will look at the mouth of the Berse- 
mis, the Outarde, the Manicougans, the Marguerite of the 
north shore, the St. John of the north shore, the Mingan, 
the Moisie, the Natashquan — any one, I say, who will 
contemplate the floods which roll out from those capacious 
rivers, will be impressed with the fact that it takes a 
vast extent of territory to accumulate all that water. 
Big rivers are not born in little countries. And yet you 
never met a white man who had been to the head of 
any one of them, unless he was a Canadian Government 
surveyor. But it is a journey that might easily be ar- 
ranged. There is a steamer down the coast once in 
two weeks from Quebec. Or, better yet, you can charter a 
little schooner at Tadousac, or Riviere du Loup, or at. 
Gaspe, to take you where you list, all for little money. 
Now at Seven Islands, at Moisie, at St. John, at Mingan, 
at Natashquan, are Hudson Bay stores, and here come 
the Montagnais Indians down from the interior everyt 
June to dispose of their furs. Any one accustomed to 
American Indians will at once recognize the Montagnais 
for a fine, hearty lot of folks. .They have a country all to 
themselves, they bring out big catches of fur, they spend 
the summer at their seashore resorts, where many of 
them own hundred-dollar sailboats. And if you think they 
are of doubtful reliability, watch their greeting to the 
devoted missionary whose yacht finds no sea too storr * 
to go to them. You may find that the business-like budC 
who wears store clothes and wants three dollars a day, bug 
compromises on a dollar and a quarter, has a surprising 
number of wives for. a Christian. But then, even som' 
good white men — well, as I was saying, up in thav 
Labrador peninsula, where the Montagnais go for their 
steady job, there are ouananiche in the lakes and cari- 
bou on the mountains in schools and droves. Why, if 
what those Indians tell me is true, the schools are regu- 
lar universities, and the droves are like the ancient flocks 
on a thousand hills that we read about. I was camping 
on fhe Mingan a few years ago, and a native took me 
back about fourteen miles, up to the top of a high moun- 
tain, and offered to give me all the fish and game I ever 
thought of. I suppose his title to the country was just as^- 
good as that of a certain personage who did the moun- 
tain-top act in a tempting manner long ago. I never 
wanted to go anywhere so much as I did to cut loose and 
go back with him. And mind you. there are no farmers^ 
and bushmen to run against up there. It is a country 
where there are just Indians and fish and bears and cari- 
bou. Up the St. John of the north shore there is a place 
Avhere the salmon have to jump a fall, and right by the 
fall, separated by only a little ledge of rock, there used ' • 
be a little pond or pool, where many of the salmon fefl 
in and could not get out. The bear;;' had a habit of fish- 
ing in that pool, and they mussed up the rock so much 
with fish bones and things that the Provincial Govern 
ment sent up a party of surveyors to blast out the roclrt 
ledge and spoil the bears' fish pond. If you don't 
lieve that, send to the Department of Forests, Lands a^T 
Fisheries, at Quebec, and get the official report. It is ^ 
print, and if I was at home I would cite the page. That 
is a region where the wilderness comes down to the very 
doors of the codfishermen's huts, and it always will, be- 
cause nobody can raise any crops there. To get a look at 
the big caribou heads, one would have to go a long way. 
But I teil you there are a lot of thing.? talked about ill 
