Nov. 17, i£XX).j! 
FOREST , ANID- STREAM. 
cow moose along an old winter wood road. The cow was 
loitering behind and presently we came upon her, and 
she stood and watched us curiously, a fair open shot well 
within 50 yards, but the bull was beyond and out of sight, 
and when the cow took alarm and made ofif she carried the 
bull along with her, and we got no sight of him. It is 
obvious that with good luck the cow would have been 
ahead and the bull loitering after to give me the earnestly 
desired shot. Two days later Mr. Charles Dodge, of 
Lowell, Mass., a fellow sportsman at Camp Phcenix, killed 
his bull moose on this same wood road, not far from 
where we had seen the cow. And his luck being in the 
ascendent, he also shot two splendid bucks upon the 
same trail, and the two heads, taking them together, were 
the finest two buck heads I have ever seen. 
A few days thereafter I concluded to rest one day in 
camp. At a late hour, or near 11 o'clock A. M., Mr. John 
1^'orbes, of Boston, another sportsman at camp, requested 
the loan of my guide for the day. It was his last day in 
camp, and he was temporarily without a guide of his 
own, and as I wished him the success which was not 
his yet, I cheerfully complied. At dusk they returned 
with .a splendid bull moose head, .the finest that was 
brought into camp this year. Possibly, but by no means 
certainly, the head might have been mine instead of Mr. 
Forbes' had I gone out that day and he remained in 
camp. Still I envied him not, for it was his individual 
good fortune his last day in the woods, while my own 
kick seemed adverse, hunt as hard as 1 might. 
There were three bull moose shot at Camp Phoenix this 
October, including one claimed by a certain sportsman 
as his own, which was presumably shot by his guide — but 
that is another story. Last year there were eight bull 
moo?e shot at Nesowadnehunk Lake, including those 
killed after tracking snow fell. But to resume the con- 
sideration of luck in moose hunting, I shall recall some 
of the experiences last year. On the first day of the 
open season my hunting comrade. Mr. Alfred Lauterbach. 
of New York, shot his bull moose upon the lake shore not 
an hour from camp. Another bull was shot the same day 
by a Dr. Moore, of Philadelphia. Later on Mr. Lauter- 
bach and I, Avith our guides, went deeper into the woods 
and camped in the very heart of the moose region. We 
remained two days, and I was totally unsuccessful, though 
signs of moose were certainly plentiful enough. Dui-ing 
our absence from Camp Phoenix a Mr. Abercrombie, of 
New York, arrived, and at his first attempt killed his 
bull. When we got back to the lake at the end of two 
days we found Mr. Abercrombie had arrived, shot his 
moose the day of his arrival, and had already departed, 
taking his moose head with him out of the woods. He 
shot his game upon the Telos trail, where I had hunted 
itnsuccessfully but a few days before. Finally, however, 
last year my opportunity came, and I got my shot at the 
splendid bull moose which I had so ardently desired. 
But this is a story of such extraordinary misfortune 
that I shall not relate it in detail. I regret to say that 
I wounded my game severely and yet was unalDle to 
recover him, so that I fear he died miserably in the 
woods. Much would I have preferred to have missed him 
clean, so that I or another sportsman might another time 
have had a fair chance at him. 
The incidents above related came directly under my own 
observation. I could relate some other examples of good 
"luck as they were told to me. and which I believe to be 
true. For instance, a couple of years ago one sportsman 
at Camp Phoenix was hunting moose and stopped at a 
spring in the woods to drink. When he raised his head 
after drinking there stood a splendid bull moose within 
40 yards waiting accommodatingly to be shot, and ac- 
cordingly he was shot. One day my guide and his partner. 
Luther Hall, Jr.. were lunching at an old wood landing 
on a deserted wood trail. Presently a fine bull moose 
walked down the trail within easy shot and Will McLain 
shot him. 
Last year just as I was going out of the woods at the 
end of October I met a party of four sportsmen with their 
guides coming into camp at Nesowadnehunk Lake. They 
came late to wait for tracking snow. Subsequently f 
learned that each of the four sportsmen got his bull moose. 
I fancy that I have demonstrated that a fair chance is 
given any sportsman even in October to shoot his bull 
moose in this section of Maine, while, if the tracking 
suows of November are waited for, the chances are much 
improved. Of course-, luck is an element to be con- 
sidered always, but the very uncertainty of the sport con- 
stitutes one of .its chief charms. The 'likelihood of run- 
nmg upon a moose at any moment in the woods revives 
the tired hunter, and day after day keeps his spirits con- 
stantly exhilarated. His watchfulness must be ever main- 
tamed; his vision must be keenly exercised without a 
moment's lapse ; he must be silent and patient, earnest and 
vigilant hour after hour, and possibly day after day. In 
my own case I found no wearisomeness nor disp-ritedness, 
though totally unsuccessful, if success be measured onlv 
by the amount of game bagged. Yet I rejoiced in the free'- 
dom of the woods and in the exercise of those qualities 
which the sport requires. So I look back upon the ex- 
perience with pleasure marked with no regrets, but only 
with love and admiration for the noble sport of still- 
Ininting moose. 
Possibly the relation of my own experiences may in- 
cline other sportsmen to visit this section of Maine. To 
such the following general information is offered: 
Nesowadnehunk Lake is situated about twenty miles 
north and a little, west of Mount Katahdin, and is reached 
from Patten by buckboard. The distance i^ fifty-two 
miles and the trip takes two full days and is by no means 
an easy journey. The lake may also be reached from 
Norcross. the first few miles by steamer, and the rest of 
the way by canoe and wood trail. The distance is a little 
shorter than by way of Patten. I have gone in both 
ways, and found the Norcross route the more com- 
fortable. 
Hall & McLain are the proprietors of Camp Phcenix 
on Nesowadnehunk Lake. Their post office address is 
Patten, TVIe. Luther Hall, Jr., was my guide last year 
and Will McLain this year. I believe there are not two 
better guides in the whole of Maine and I cannot too 
highly recommend them. Their camp is the most delight- 
ful :amp it has ever been my good fortune to occupy. 
Besides the main log cabin, there are three or four small 
cabins prepared for the comfort of their guests. In my 
uwn case, during the latter p-Art of my stay I was the 
sole proprietor of one of these smaller log cabins, which 
contained besides other comforts a good spring bed, fur- 
nished with mattresses and blankets and fresh white 
sheets and pillow cases. My only criticism is that there 
seemed to be almost too much luxury for a camper out. 
A man might take his wife to Camp Phoenix with perfect 
security. Last year during my stay a young doctor from 
New York brought his wife with him, and she proved 
very sportsmanlike and had her shot at a bull moose, as 
indeed did every <^ne else at Camp Phoenix last year. 
W. N. Amory. 
New York. NovemTier, 
■ In the Shadow of Katahdin. 
{Concluded /rottt. page S65.) 
Sunday was spent pretty much in loafing ai-ound camp, 
out on the ice and taking things comfortably. The day 
was cloudy and gave promise of snow. This is what we 
were praying for, and all hands predicted a fall before 
morning. 
After supper that night Wilbert exposed Fred's ability 
as a violin manipulator. Fred protested, but we were 
obdurate in our demands, so there was nothing for him 
to do but take down the old violin and tune her up. It 
was late before we retired, and Fred fairly made the old 
violin talk. Jigs, waltzes, marches and popular songs were 
rattled off in sliort order. Then there were airs of a 
solemn and sacred strain, and all became silent and 
thoughtful, and tender expressions unconsciously stole 
into the face of each listener. Why should old familiar 
airs of long ago cause the rude walls of a hunting camp 
with its hanging rifles, cartridge belts, knives and all 
paraphernalia connected with the chase to fade? To 
fade and vanish like morning mist under sunlight rays? 
As the notes come softer, and the rings from the old brier 
Avood widen out until one looks beyond their ever ex- 
panding circles, what mysterious influence is it that causes 
the curtains of time to drift noiselessly apart, and reveal 
to tender memory the sacred aisles of the past?' Back, 
back into the long ago ; down the sunny paths of child- 
hood ; back to the old home and the family gathering 
round the family board ; back to the dear familiar faces 
circled where voices were raised in song, faces that are 
drifting one by one from sight— into the great and 
mysterious beyond? "Into the sacred realms of the past 
memory alone may enter — the body is barred forever." 
Then, as the music ceases, thought slowly returns on the 
wings of the present, and one thinks of the good wife 
and little ones slumbering under the stars away down 
there to the south, and tenderly smiles, for surely they 
are safe — safe under the vigil of the Ruler of the stars, 
Monday found all hands early astir. The sky was still 
overcast and the indications pointed strongly to snow, but 
none had yet fallen. It was agreed that this must be a 
day of hard work, for there was but one more hunting 
day — Tuesday — left to us. Wednesday must see us on 
our honieward journey. To make the day's hunt suc- 
cessful, if possible. Fred volunteered to join us. so after 
breakfast we all left camp together. 
"Now, boys " said Fred, "the best thing is for you all to 
go over to the Burnt Land and station yourselves in good 
places. I'll give you plenty of time to get there. Then 
I'll go round to the other side of the mountain and walk 
up to the Burnt Land from that direction. You must 
.keep a sharp watch, for I feel sure of driving deer to one 
of you." This, we agreed, would be a good way to do. 
_ After reaching the Burnt Land each took up a posi- 
tion. In this matter of position I got decidedly the worst 
of it, for I was stationed where I could see but four 
objects— Wilbert to the right the top of Lide's head to 
the left, the top of a small knoll behind, and a small clump 
of trees in front. It was as if I had been let down in a 
bowl and couldn't see Over the edge. In the end, however. 
I was as well off as the others. In about an hot^r Lide 
whistled and motioned us to tbe knoll on which he 
stood. Fred was there, and Lide was the only one who 
had seen anything, and he was mourning because he had 
let two deer go by in long range without risking a shot 
at them. 
A council of war was held, and resulted in sending Lide 
and me into the heavy growth that lined Smith" « Creek. 
It was our business to drive out any deer that might be in 
there to Wilbert or Fred. We performed the task faith- 
fully, and found fresh tracks in great numbers, but always 
leading ahead. This, of course, proved that the deer 
knew we were there, and that they were keeping out of the 
way. At one place we came to a large marsh, and the 
snow was literally tramped hard in places. Many of 
these tracks could not have been over an hour old yet 
not a deer was seen by us. Finally we came to a wide, 
circling stream, and the ice was clawed and scratched 
where deer had slipped in crossing. In about an hour 
we emerged into the Burnt Land again, and met Fred and 
Wilbert. They had seen nothing. 
From here Lide and I hunted the west side of the 
creek to t]ie south, and Wilbert and Fred hunted the 
east side in the same direction. Every place that showed 
the Ica.st indication of harboring a deer was thoroughlv 
hunted, but all to no purpose. The crust gave so much 
warning that Fred finallv decided it was useless to hunt 
further. Then all hands Fred excepted, started back 
for camp. Just as we were entering the' door a shot was 
heard, and Fred came in an hour afterward and said he 
had wounded a large "lucive." He had hit the animal 
hard, and followed a trail of blood over two mile^, but 
the "lucive" escaped. Fred had a afood bunch of blood- 
.stained fur to show as evidence. I have failed to men- 
tion that, with but few exceotions. on everv deer track 
would be found either "lucive" or wildcat tracks. 
Wilbert and Lide decided to go out no more that dav. 
I shouldered my rifle and climbed the mountain to the 
bog where I had seen the "lucive." T had hardiv seated 
myself near the deer entrails when it began to rain : then 
the snow commenced to loosen and slip from the heaw 
laden boughs, and startling sounds came from all direc- 
tion > causing me to start time and again, for they re- 
sernbled the approach of animals. Excepting a few red 
squirrel- and some .'^nowbirds, of which one of the latter 
nearly frightened me out of my wits bv brushing my 
mouth Willi its winffs and nearly living down my throat 
a cute little white weasel, with a black tipped tail 
which ran round and round me and came within a vard 
of my feet at times to look up into my face, I saw 
nothing. Yet I sat and sat there m the drizzling rain and 
noted not the passing time. Finally i aimea the rifle 
at an object on the further side of the bog, and was sur- 
prise'd- It was too dark to see the sights. "Great Scott!" 
thought I, "I've got to be moving if I expect to reach 
camp to-mght." it was fully time, for I had consider- 
able difficulty in following the trail. The light streamed 
through tne windows and out into the darkness when I 
reached camp, and Fred stood outside the door. "I'm 
glad you've come," he said. "I was getting anxious." 
And so were the rest. 
Tuesday broke cloudy, foggy and drizzling, The snow 
had softened and the crust was gone, "It's the best day 
yet, boys, and if you don't get a deer it'll be your own 
fault," said Fred. 
Our course was north on the Nesowadnehunk road, and 
we were to try the marshes where Lide had fired at four 
aeer. What necessity there was for us all to go in a 
bunch is beyond my comprehension. I figured if we 
struck out in different directions it would give three 
chances to .see deer, and that there would be but one 
chance if we hung together. I was always voted down in 
this contention, however, and always bowed to the will 
of the majority. Of course I am a novice at deer hunt- 
ing, and perhaps it may come to me some day that there 
is a better show in one chance than in three. 
The snow was so soft and wet that a cautious' footfall 
could not be heard 20 feet away. It seemed to me that 
the fog could have been dispensed with to advantage, and 
perhaps it was the only drawback. 
The bogs were about a mile away, and when we reached 
them we spread out and hunted cautiously to the east. 
Islands were scattered in all directions, and we scrutinized 
each one closely as we came to it., The low-hanging fog, 
however, prevented a good view for any distance. We 
hunted through the mist about a mile, then Lied and I 
met near one of the largest islands and held a consulta- 
tion. Our confab ended in a decision to hunt back in a 
southwesterly direction. 
In the dry snow which usually prevails in this northern 
wilderness there is nothing so good for the feet as a heavy 
pair of woolen socks with heavy woolen, stocking-like 
leggings, which cover the pants leg and fasten at the knee, 
drawn on over them, and moccasins. Under dry snow 
conditions this rig is certainly Avarm and comfortable. 
But heaven help the victim who wears the outfit in wet, 
sloppy snow, and rainy weather. Lide's and my feet 
were sopping before we had gone a mile that mornins, and 
as we took an icy footbath about every five minutes, our 
wet feet were half-frozen all the while. "VVilbert wore 
shoes with high arctics over them. 
After making some little distance on our new course, 
Wilbert loomed to sight through the fog. He was stand- 
ing on the southerly end of one of the islands. We saluted 
and a deer blew within a hundred yards, just south of 
Wilbert. A sparse scattering of trees grew out of the 
long bog grass and bushes, and we felt sure of seeing 
the deer. Lide and I slowly worked our way down 
there and found the tracks of a doe and fawn. Had 
It not been for the prevailing misty conditions at the 
time, we certainly would have seen these deer. 
Now began a bit of tracking, the like of wh'ch I never 
had seen, but which I am willing and anxious to ex- 
perience again. Through heavy foliaged arbor vitEE, pine, 
spruce and hemlock; through boughs dripping with 
moisture; over the trunks of uprooted forest giants, and 
among a dead, fallen, tangled riot of branches and roots 
along the edge of the lake, we persistently followed those 
deer. And on three different occasions I raised my rifle 
onl}' to lower it again, for I caught only the faintest flicker 
of the white flag. Soon the doe and fawn were joined by 
a buck, and we vowed to keep the trail. Mile after mile 
did we follow those deer, and we saw them a number of 
times, but only for the . fractional part of a second. 
Once_ we came to the road and hurriedly placed our com- 
Rass in the snow, carelessly noted the points and went on 
i hen we came to the top of a knoll which overlooked a 
thickly wooded valley, a deer blew and deer scrambled 
out of that valley in every direction, and the foliage was 
so dense that we saw none of them. Finallv, about noon 
we decided to give up. and started for camp. But where 
was camp? We were lost. 
A small brook flowed near by, and Lide was for 
following It in its windings. "It must flow into Lake 
i-Millmockett, ' said he, "and if we folloAv it we're bound 
to come out right." 
•!?T* ^i^'^ction doesn't agree with the compass." 
said i. 1 his puzzled us. According to our' calculations, 
based on the compass when we set it in the snow we 
.sliould go southwest, but the brook flowed southeast,' and 
in.stinct seemed to draw us in that direction. 
To cut a long story short, we wandered around awhile, 
and I cut a rabbit nearlv in Iavo with the .30-30 "What 
are you going to do with that thing?" Lide asked. "Go'ng 
to have it for supper to-night," T- answered. "We can't 
.stay in these woods all night without something to eat 
L,icle laughed, and we soon saw the mountain near camp. 
-Hor all that, however, we crossed the carry and passed 
camp withm 200 yards without' knowing it. Then we 
went two miles to the south and found the trail leadin^r to 
the rttle bog Avhere I had seen the Ivnx. From here we 
reached camp about i o'clock, and found Wilbert toastino- 
his shins by the fire. 
No\v tlmt we had leisure to think matters over we 
tound that we had become mixed when we placed our 
compass on the snow. We were careless and got the 
pointer on S^ instead of N, This, of course, reversed 
-t. and VV . Therefore, our course should have been as 
instinct dictated— southeast instead of southwest Had 
we gn^en the matter a moment's consideration we ought 
to have known we couldn't cross the road without o-ett'ino- 
on the west side, for we had started in to hunt on the 
east side. \\e were so interested in the chase that we 
became careless and got rattled. Moral: Never be 
careless, and don't get rattled in, a country like the 
Maine Avoods. It may mean death if you do. 
On this subject of getting lo,st in the Avoods of Maine 
or m any similar section, ahvays carry a good compass a 
good hatchet, a knife, pler^- of matches, lots of am- 
munition and some salt. Tlie minute vou find you are 
surely lost and that it is useless to go further, just get to 
work and build a lean-too under the lee of some good 
bog. Now cut boughs for a couch and fill your temporary 
