2I>0 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Sept. 27, 1902. 
a snort. "The pesky things bother me all the time," said 
he. "I could have killed half a dozen out of the hunch 
from which I got this one. I came away and left them 
standing all around me." 
Questioned further by Adam, Charlie stated that he 
had seen three moose on his last run up the trap line to- 
ward the "Gap." He thought we might see moose in 
a day or so, but was not sure. We all agreed that the 
thing to do was to eat supper and plenty of it, which 
we did. 
The Nictor camp, or Moore and Cremin, is a tightly 
built log cabin heated by a cook stove. The bunks are 
two story, the beds are of boughs and the blankets arei 
of abundance. This camp is the central or home camp 
of the Moore chain, Nictor Lake being at the head of the 
Tobique River. We were now 210 miles from Frederic ■ 
ton. In the early fall the trip is made in about the 
same time, three days, but by canoe from Riley Brook, the 
guides meeting their customers at that place. 
As to the successes during the past season, I was told 
that the first party at Nictor camp last fall was Messrs. 
Alfred Weed, of Providence, R. I., and John Mclntyre, 
of Daytou, O. Each got his moose. Mr. Weed's meas- 
ured 48 inches spread of antlers, and Mr. McTntyre's 50 
• inches. Each man also got his caribou and each got deer. 
The second party at Nictor camp was made of Messrs. 
Geo. P. Bishop and Jerome Trask, both of Cleveland, O. 
Each got his moose and each got his caribou and abun- 
dant small game. Mr. Trask was not lucky in getting a 
big head, but he got a splendid bull. Adam Moore had 
out the above gentleman, while Charlie Cremin, his part- 
ner, took out Mr. and Mrs. J. W. G. Smith, of Monck- 
ton, N. B., each of whom got a moose, Mrs. Smith a very 
nice one. Charlie's second party was made up of Mr. 
H. R. Forbes and Mr. Robert Phillips, of Hoboken, N. J. 
Each of these got a moose and also one caribou and one 
deer. 
Surprised at the completeness of all the details of this 
camp, I asked the boys how they managed to get their 
stuff in. and they replied that they brouglit in everything, 
even their cook stoves, etc., in the summer and fall by 
canoe, up the Tobique River, bringing about two tons of 
supplies each fall. These supplies last them through until 
the next season. ji^; 
The Fifst Day's Htint. 
We were now upon the hunting grounds, and deep 
within the actual wilderness. I had not come any more 
to hunt moose than to hunt health, and also to hunt in- 
formation regarding this sporting region of New Bruns- 
wick; yet I obeyed cheerfully when Adam commanded me 
to shoulder my rifle and start out early on the following 
morning for a trip up the mountain side to a notch in 
the hills, which they call "the Gap." The snow was 
what any snowshoer may imagine, three feet deep on the 
level and still very soft, though not yet thawing enough to 
soften the shoes. The going was at first up hill, then 
more up hill, then a good deal more up hill, and then 
straight up. 
'Did we see any sign of game? I should say we did. 
We began to see caribou tracks thirty miles back of the 
tote road, and we kept on seeing them at different times. 
We began to see moose tracks as soon as we got across 
the little Nector Lake and got into the woods. We 
trailed a new deer track for a while until we became in- 
terested in some fresher caribou tracks, Adam plowing 
ahead up the mountain likfe some prehistoric giant, tire- 
less, unfettered by any physical ill or weakness. I like his 
name, "Adam," primeval, simple. He is strong as a bull 
moose, honest beyond this day and generation, in short, 
about the kind of man one figures his ancestors ought to 
have been. 
Presently Adam and I came across a place which 
looked as though some Titan had pushed a carpet sweeper 
through the forest with the intent of taking out all the 
roots and the bumps along with him. Adam silently 
pointed down. I was standing beside my first moose trail. 
"It is not very big," said Adam, "and I don't think its 
horns are very big, but it's a bull. Come on ! We'll see 
what it will do." 
"Jumped." 
_What it did was easy enough for the moose, but a little 
bit hard for the city man. The moose, perhaps driven 
down by the storm, seemed bound to get into the cedar 
thickets, like the white-tailed deer, and it led us a merry 
chase, worming in and out among the snow-covered trees. 
Needless to say, we were soon thoroughly wetted with the 
snow, which fell from the trees on our necks and shoul- 
ders, but of course one does not mind a little thing 
like that. The interest of the chase kept us warm. We 
could see that we were getting closer and closer to our 
game. Presently we could see that we were getting very 
close. At last we saw where we had gotten Avithin 100 
yards of it. There was the story. A deep pit, as though 
a great horse had lain there. 
"Jumped,"' said Adam. 
"Sure," said L 
Then we sat down and thought it over for a while. 
We went on some more, and presently we came across 
two more moose tracks, a big one and a little one, prob- 
ably a cow and a calf, as Adam thought. We were then 
three miles from the camp ,and it was not too late in the 
<3ay, so we thought we would follow on and see what this 
bunch would do to us. They did pretty much the same 
as the young bull had done. We followed these tracks 
through all kinds of covmtry, saw where the animals had 
fed in among the willows and alders, and on the round- 
wood, and finally puzzled out their trail until we knew 
that we were getting very close. This time we were near 
Indeed to seeing our moose. We were perhaps not fifty 
yards away when we came to a couple more big holes in 
the snow, and some more regular holes beyond. Jumped 
again ! There was the story, plain enough. This time we 
might almost have heard the bushes rattle as we went out. 
As we stood there we heard a hoarse, harsh, curious kind 
of coughing bark. Adam laughed. 
"That old lady is just wondering what in the world it 
was that scared her," said he. "She is frightened, but is 
not exactly sure what it is that frightened her. Just listen 
to her." Once, twice and again that same coughing bark 
came back to us.' .Then all was still, and we were again 
all alone in the white wilderness. W<? concludcci that we 
Wpuld go heme after thait, 
We ate some more caribou, and slept some more, and 
on the next day hunted some more, this time going 
further back into the hills. We traveled about eight or 
ten miles on our first day, and perhaps fifteen miles on 
the second, part of the distance over a trail which had 
been cut out earlier in the fall by Charlie. We ran across 
an old survey line, far back in the interior, marking the 
v.-atershed betv/een Bathurst and Tobique waters. Not 
far from here we "boiled the kettle." I had abjured coffee 
for the time and thenceforth was reconciled to the New 
Brunswick staple beverage, tea. We made it deep and 
strong and black and plenty of it, and I must say that 
after we had stopped for a cup of it, we went on as 
though we never had known such a thing as fatigue. 
Ltinch in the Snow. 
When you build a fire in the snow for your noon- 
day lunch, always, my dear tenderfoot, observe a few 
simple rules. In the first place, get some nice dry wood. 
Pine is best ("easy wood," Adam called it). Split up 
your pine into faggots three or four feet long. Make your 
fire by leaning your faggots up against a tree, which will 
serve as a chimney to carry up the smoke. Keep a good- 
sized dry log for a seat, and when you sit down, be sure 
and bury your feet deep in the snow, clear up to the 
knees, so that the heat of the fire will not melt th^. snow 
on your shoes or stockings. If you allow the fire to heat 
your foot-covering, your feet will get wet. The way to 
keep your feet warm is, so to speak, to keep them always 
cold — that is to say, cold so far as the exterior is con- 
cerned. You must have on plenty of wool, and the warmth 
of the foot will do the rest. 
"This stick which I am cutting," said^ Adam, as he 
hewed down a young tree and cut a pole about eight feet 
long, "is what the Indians call 'Chiplok'waugan' (or 
'Cliiplokquorgan'). It means 'the fire stick,' or the 'tea- 
boiling .stick.' You see we don't make a fire and cook 
down on the ground the way you do out West. We 
can't 'boil a kettle' in New Brunswick without a long 
stick to hang it on. You notice I poke this stick into the 
snow, and the little end hangs out over the fire, and I 
hang the kettle on that end, so it cannot possibly spill, and 
it gets all the heat which comes up to the top of the fire. 
"Now there is a funny thing about this Chiplok'wau- 
gan. After you have boiled the kettle you must always 
throw the 'Chiplok-waugan' down, and never leave it 
standing up over the fire, or by the fire. If you do, that 
is bad luck, just as sure as you are born. No Indian and 
no guide who knows his business would ever think of 
leaving the ' 'waugan stick' standing up by the fire. I 
was out with two old trappers once, and we had gone 
about two miles from where we had 'boiled the kettle.' 
when all at once one of the trappers slapped his leg, and 
said that he had left the ' 'waugan' stick standing over 
the fire. That settled it. He walked back two miles to 
throw it down. We didn't have very good luck, at that, 
and he said he knew the reason." 
So much for some of the wisdom of the woods. I 
counsel you, my dear tenderfoot, follow very closely these 
rules for building a fire and of throwing down the 
' 'waugan' stick. 
A Moose Yard. 
We went on deeper and deeper into the rough country, 
getting some six or seven miles back of the camp. At 
last, just after pushing through a dense thicket of yotmg 
firs, we came again upon fresh moose sign, not leading 
straightaway, but scattered here and there. One big track- 
led up to the shallow brook and we could see where the 
animal had waded in the water. Other tracks zigzagged 
here and there, and there were many beds where the 
moose had been lying. This, then, was my fir.st sight of 
a genuine moose yard. A moose yard, gentle tender- 
foot, is not a beaten down or trampled place in the snow, 
surrounded with a high wall of snow, such as you .saw in 
your youth described in the natural history books. A 
m.oose can get out of his yard about as soon as he wants 
to, and in three feet of snow a moose does not need any 
trail, unless there is a very sharp crust indeed. 
Presently we saw the occupants of the yard, only a 
cow and a two-year-old, but great, big, splendid-looking 
animals with black sides, brown backs, and big, ungainly 
looking heads and long legs which traveled all so easily 
in the deep snow. For an instant they stood at a distance 
of about fifty yards, and had either been a bull our hunt 
for moose would have ended then and there. So now I 
liad seen my first moose. 
"You see," said Adam, "that once in a while you can 
come up with a moose on the snow." He alluded to my 
own doubt expressed on the preceding day, whether we 
should be able to get close enough for a shot when travel- 
ing on the necessarily noisy crust. 
Plenty of Cariboo. 
It was a 'long walk back to camp, hence we felt that we 
did not have time to hunt further. We climbed the high 
spur of a mountain to find a lookoitt and were able to 
save a couple of miles of travel by starting straight across 
to intercept our earlier trail in the morning. It was dusk 
when we finally struck the beaten track, and as we de- 
scended the trail toward the little Nictor Lake, we found 
that the caribou had simply cut our trail all to pieces. 
There had been twenty or thirty, perhaps forty, of them 
marching up and down on our snowshoe tracks all day 
long. It grieved Adam very much. 
"These blamed caribou," said he, "make me tired. You 
can't go anywhere here and start a good snowshoe trail 
but what the caribou come and flock into it like so many 
sheep. If we had that moose killed, we'd come here and 
do some business with these boys to-morrow." Indeed, 
all the country in the lower levels about the lake was liter- 
ally cut up with caribou tracks, there being a big scattered 
drove of them feeding in the windfalls at that time. These 
animals live on the moss which grows on the pine and 
spruce trees, and much frequent the windfalls or down 
timber. Jack, who had been out the day before on a little 
voyage of exploration to the top of Sagamok, or Bald 
Mountain, which rises up for nearly 3,000 feet just back 
of Nictor Camp, had also seen plenty of caribou sign as 
well as a bunch of about two dozen caribou, not to men- 
tion deer. We found that the caribou had been out on the 
lake during the day, quite a bunch of them apparently. 
Indeed, the country was aliv^ with c^rihot^, "Mr- Bishop 
used to say when he was in here last fall," said Adam, | 
"that if there were any more caribou they would be a, 
public nuisance." ' 
All the guides agreed that the caribou by this timej 
had pretty well shed their horns, at least all the big bulls 
bad shed. There might be some small bulls or an occa- 
sional cow with horns. For this reason we did not care so. 
much for hunting caribou. 
About New BronswJck Game." j 
Around the camp-fire that night I learned the following ! 
things : There were no deer twelve years ago in this part 
of New Brunswick. Deer are very abundant in Maine 
and are working into New Brunswick now in greater num- ' 
hers, though not nearly so abundant as caribou or moose. 
There have been no wolves known in New Brunswick 
for more than fifty years. 
There are no lynx at all on the Tobique waters; but, 
there are very many hmx on the Nipisiguit Chain. 
There are moose pretty much all over New Brunswick 
now, but twenty years ago there were very few moose 
indeed. To-day moose are protected west of the St. John 
River, and they are increasing there very rapidly, and the 
overflow of the better game country is stocking the whole 
Province. Adam sa,ys that the increase of moose is due 
to better laws, better protection, and to the stopping of - 
"crusting" by the Indians. 
The Indians once got $5 to $9 for a moose hide, and 
some years ago there were eighty Indians from Quebec^ 
who made a sweeping tour from the north to the south as' 
far down as the Tobique River. They piled up their 
snowshoes and toboggans at Riley Brook, made canoes 
and thence took their hides down the Tobique River. A 
certain famous Indian by the name of Tom Bear, with 
two other Indians, a few years ago, hauled out scA^enty 
moose hides. Tom said that they went into the yards to 
kill the animals, and kept on killing, and came back later 
to skin the carcasses. 
There were sixtA^-two moose heads which Avent dovvj 
the Tobique River in the fall of 1901. among these many j 
splendid heads. Adam Moore killed the finest head he ! 
had seen for many years, my recollection being that this | 
measured 6i>4 inches. The Tobique heads average largcj 
of late, and both Adam and all those with whom I talked] 
belicA'^e that moose are distinctly on the increase in Ncav 
BrunsAvick. In a little S3'mposiimi Avhich Ave held at Fred- 
ericton, six or eight men put doAvn their estimates of the 
number of moose contained in the hundred square miles 
contained in the middle of New Brunswick. Some 
thought there Avere 10,000, some as few as 2,500. Thei 
average Avas about 5,000 or 6,000. Of course this is aU 
guessAvork, but when one reflects that there will not be 
more than 200 or 300 non-resident licenses going into the 
Province each season, he Avill see Avhat a good chance each 
of these has for a good head in such a country. I was 
Avell persuaded at the end of my second day in camp that 
if one coitld not get his moose here, it certainly was not 
the fault of the moose nor the fault of the guides. 
E, HouG^. 
Hartford Building, Chicago, 111. 
Some Uses of Common Things, 
Many common things, such, as are conveniently acces-' 
sible and always at hand, can be put to very serAnceable 
and practical uses. Most of these are Avell knoAvn, and, 
familiar to all, but a brief repetition of them may provej 
interesting and convenient. | 
Kerosene is the best possible substance Avith which to' 
remove rust. Mix it with a little i,^wdered pumice, suchi 
as is used in polishing knives, and tne result is a paste . 
Avhich AA'ill obliterate rust in short order. It is also the- 
best means of cleaning machinery, and the parts of thd 
lock or mechanism of a gun, which have become clogged ; 
with gummed oil. 
The best of all cleaning devices for a small-bored rifle' 
is a stout string more than twice the length of the barrel. ' 
Tie a bit of oiled rag in the middle of it and draAV it- 
back and forth until the barrel is bright and clear. This 
arrangement is far better than any brass or iron rod, 
Avhich is liable to mar the delicately rifled grooves. But j 
the string used must be sufficiently strong not to break, 
and leave the rag lodged in the barrel. ^ 
Vinegar and hot soap suds are the best washes Avith 
Avhich to clean brass shells. Scrape out as much as pos- 
sible of the dirt and burned ,pOAvder inside the shells 
Avith a penknife before using the Avash. 
Rifle shells can be recapped by means of a shotgun 
recapper as folloAvs: Cut a hole in the center of the- 
head of an empty shotgun shell just the size of the rifle, 
shells ; then slip the latter into it, and they can be re- 
capped as neatly and quickb' as though the tool Avas made 
expressly for them. 
It is claimed that fine shot can be made to scatter when' 
thrown from a choke-bored gun by placing a fcAV large 
shot in the charge Avhen the shell is loaded. Another 
reliable method of accomplishing the same end is said to 
be to divide the load into two or three sections with thin 
cardboard Avads. 
Bottie-necked rifle shells can be loaded with a smaller 
charge of pOAvder than that for Avhich they Avere in- 
tended, for small game at near range, by filling the inter- 
vening space betAveen powder and ball with crumpled 
paper wadding. This does away with the vacuum, which 
would otherwise so reduce the force of the pOAvder's ex-; 
plosion as to prevent it, sometimes, from even driving the 
ball out of the barrel. 
Buckshot make convenient round balls for target prac-. 
tice Avith small-bored rifles. They can be Avrapped in a 
bit of oiled cloth of sufiicient thickness to enlarge them ' 
to the correct caliber to fit the bore of the gun. 
Paraffine, rubbed on the shoes, or Avell into the cloth of 1 
which the tent is made, Avill render them as thoroughly * 
waterproof as though they had been soaked in oil, y 
without rendering them at all greasy or liable to soil any 
thing with which they come in contact, 
A piece of ordinary black mosquito netting hung before 
the eyes will relieve them from the trying strain which re- • 
suits from the bright sun upon the snow, and will pre 
vent snoAv blindness. 
The Canadian remedy for "mal de raquette," or sno . 
shoe evil, the inflammation and soreness of the legs whi 
results from long Qontinwed use of the snowshoe, is 
