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Moose Hunting in New Brunswick. 
President Roosevelt, in his book, "The Wilderness 
Hunter," says that the moose is the largest and noblest 
game in the western hemisphere, and that the antlered 
head of one of them is the most highly prized trophy that 
a hunter can secure. With this in mind, we decided to 
go moose hunting, and, upon inquiry, learned that New 
Brunswick is probably the best place in the world for 
them. The party consisted of Senator Spencer K. 
Warnick and the writer. 
We started for New Brunswick on Friday, September 
li, having previously engaged guides by letter. Our 
route took us over the Boston & Maine, Maine Central 
and Canadian Pacific railroads, via Boston and Portland, 
Me., and we arrived at Perth, New Brunswick, Saturday 
afternoon. Here we purchased our hunting licenses, 
which permitted us to kill one bull moose, one caribou 
and two deer. After a wait of a couple of hours we 
boarded a combination passenger and freight train, which 
slowly crawled up the valley of the Tobique, over a 
primitive roadbed. After being "well shaken" for twenty- 
two miles, we got off at Reed's Island, where we spent 
Sunday at the home of Charles Wright, with whom we 
had made the arrangements for our hunting trip. 
We were bound for Mr.' Wright's camp, near the head 
of the north branch of the Miraraichi River. Mr. Wright 
built his camp in 1900, and, in accordance with the cus- 
tom which all New Brunswick guides respect, the erec- 
tion of this camp gave him the exclusive hunting privi- 
leges of the surrounding country. We found this to be 
a great advantage, for during our stay of eighteen days 
in the woods we neither saw nor heard any other hunters. 
Early Monday morning, September 14, we started from 
Reed's Island on our all-day journey of twenty miles 
through the unbroken woods to Wright's camp. Our 
baggage and provisions were loaded in a large lumber 
wagon and hauled in by team, while we, with our guides, 
trudged along behind. We saw frequent moose and deer 
tracks, and flushed numerous partridges, in which the 
region abounds. Toward evening we arrived at the 
camp, which we found to be a snug little log cabin, 
furnished with bunks, cook-stove, table, etc., and we were 
soon comfortably established. 
Our guides were Herbert Camber and Robert Tor- 
rance, both of Arthurette, A'^ictoria countj^ and their 
ability is evidenced by the success of our moose hunt. 
Herbert is a veritable giant, weighing 225 pounds, strong 
as an ox, good natured, willing and sociable, and a skill- 
ful woodsman, axman, and cook, while Robert possesses 
all the qualities that are found in the perfect guide. 
Tuesday afternoon we all started out to look over our 
hunting ground. It is located about a mile and a half 
from camp, over a good trail, and consists of a deadwater 
about fifty yards wide and a mile long, resembling a long, 
narrow lake. Here the cow moose come in to feed upon 
the lily roots early in the morning, and late in the after- 
noon during September. The cows have no antlers, and 
are protected by law, but our licenses allowed us to shoot 
one bull moose each. The bulls seldom feed in the water, 
but in the fall of the year frequently accompany the cows 
as far as the banks, where they keep pretty well out of 
sight among the trees and bushes. As a result, it is diffi- 
cult to get a shot at the old bulls, for they are very 
cunning and wary. Luclcy, indeed, is the hunter who gets 
a chance at a moose with a good set of antlers. Even 
then the shooting through the brush and trees is difficult 
and uncertain, when perhaps only a pair of horns or a 
head is visible. There is also a spice of danger in the 
operation, for the bull moose sometimes attacks the hun- 
ter, especially in the mating season. 
A popular method of hunting the moose is by calling. 
The guide imitates, through a birch bark horn, the call 
of the cow, and the bull, hearing it, comes crashing along, 
only to be shot by the hunter, who is lying in wait for 
him. We did not practice calling, as the season was too 
early for it. 
On the afternoon in question we paddled our canvas 
canoe down the deadwater, and during the trip saw two 
cow moose, both of which would have been easy marks. 
During our hunting we saw a good many cow moose 
and always found them quite tame. They seemed to know 
that they were protected by law, and that we would not 
harm them. On several occasions we approached as 
near as ten or fifteen yards to a cow before she con- 
descended to leave the water, and then she seemed un- 
concerned and not at all alarmed. 
We noticed brook trout jumping in large numbers, and 
were informed by the guides that the water had probably 
never been fished. We decided that it soon should be, 
however ; so later on we hunted up some flies, and caught 
trout until our arms ached from casting, each cast land- 
ing a fine fish. Thereafter fresh trout was a pretty fre- 
quent item on our bill of fare. The trout are so 
ravenous that they will take almost any kind of bait or 
fly. On one occasion, having hooks but no flies, I cut 
a small piece of white felt from the lining of my hat and 
attached it to a hook. Meanwhile the guide had cut a 
moose-wood pole which was so heavy that two hands 
were required to manipulate it. Thus equipped for the 
gamest of all fish, I made a cast, and landed a fine trout, 
and continuing soon had a fine string. We also caught 
trout with salt pork for bait, and with flies which we 
manufactured out of red twine. 
At the foot of the deadwater we found a small open 
camp, which had been built by some lumbermen, and 
this we decided to utilize in our hunting, as it was right 
on the deadwater, while our home camp was a mile and 
a half from the hunting ground. Our plan was to take 
turns hunting the deadwater. One of us was to go down 
in the afternoon for the evening's hunting, spend the 
night at the open camp, get in the early morning's hunt- 
ing, and return to the home camp in time for dinner. 
In the afternoon the other would start out with his guide 
and repeat the programme. 
The Senator took the first try at the deadwater, start- 
ing the afternoon of Wednesday, the i6th, Robert guid- 
ing him. They took along blankets and a small supply of 
grub, and hunted that evening and the next morning, 
spending the night at the open camp. They saw six 
moose, but only one of them was a bull, and he was a 
two-year-old with spike horns, so he was not disturbed. 
On Thursday, the 17th, I hunted the deadwater with 
Herbert, but there was a high wind which kept the 
moose away from the water. We caught a nice lot of 
trout for supper, and spent the night at the open camp. 
We started on our hunt the next morning at about 6 
o'clock, without stopping to eat breakfast. As I settled 
in my seat in the bow of tlie canoe, the guide remarked 
that he felt it in his bones that something was going to 
happen. I, too, felt a presentiment; so every sense was 
on the alert as we slowly paddled up the deadwater. 
Everything was in our favor, as not a breath of air was 
stirring. We had gone not more than a quarter of a mile 
when we saw a cow moose standing in the middle of the 
stream, in about six_ feet of water, feeding from the 
bottom. She would dive down and stay under water for 
at least a minute, leaving only a few inches of her back 
visible above the water. It was an amusing sight, and 
as her head was under the water most of the time, we 
paddled to within a few yards of her before she came up 
for a breath of air and saw us. She then got out as fast 
as she could, making a great splashing. 
At the same time we heard a crackling noise on the 
right bank, about two hundred yards up stream. Look- 
ing in that direction, we saw protruding above the bushes 
the head and neck of a magnificent bull moose, standing 
there with a cow. Evidently the noise made by the first 
cow in getting out of the water had alarmed him, for he 
turned and saw us, and started off into the woods at once. 
"Let him have it," said the guide. The critical moment 
had come. Bearing in mind that the first shot is the one 
that counts, I drew a very careful bead, aiming well for- 
ward, and fired one shot from my .33 Winchester. He 
quickly disappeared in the woods. We landed imme- 
diately, and, in an agony of doubt, made the best of our 
way through the bushes to the spot where he had been 
standing. Great was my relief to find a large spash of 
blood on a tree, about five feet from the ground, which 
showed that the bullet had struck its mark. Then ensued 
a wild scramble over fallen trees and through bushes in 
the direction he had taken, being guided by the noise his 
horns made striking an occasional tree. After going 
about 300 yards we caught sight of the antlers of our 
game above the trunk of a fallen tree, behind which he 
had dropped down, mortally wounded. "He's a big one," 
said the guide, "and I guess he's our meat." 
On our approach the huge beast got up, though feeling 
pretty sick, and started off, but another shot staggered 
him, and at the end of fifty yards he again dropped down. 
I now came quite close, at the same time taking care to 
keep well out of reach of his horns, which he still had 
strength enough to shake at us, and fired two more shots 
just back of the forward shoulder, which put an end to 
his sufferings. 
He was a large moose, very fat, and would weigh about 
eleven hundred pounds. He measured seven feet from 
the top of the forward shoulders to the ground. His 
antlers were large and handsome, and had a spread of 52 
inches, 21 points, and a palm 11 inches wide. We skinned 
out the head for a trophy and the hind quarters for meat. 
Upon examination we found that the first bullet had 
struck him in the neck, close to the forward shoulders, 
and had inflicted a mortal wound. The second shot took 
effect in the hind quarters, high up. We packed the 
head to our home camp. 
At the camp we were visited by two men who were 
looking for a horse which had strayed away from a lum- 
ber camp, and had been lost two weeks in the woods. The 
men Avere following the tracks, and camping in the woods 
whenever night, overtook them. They spent the night 
with us and had not been gone two hours next morning 
when we heard the tinkling of a bell, and soon the lost 
horse walked into our camp, wearing all his harness ex- 
cept the bridle, and apparently none the worse for his 
wanderings of many miles through the dense woods. The 
fact that during that time nobody saw him nor heard his 
bell shows the wildness of the country. 
Saturday afternoon the Senator and his guide Robert 
started early in the afternoon for the foot of the dead- 
water, preparatory to hunting that evening. About half 
way down the stream they came upon a large cow moose 
feeding in the water, and paddled to within twenty yards 
of her before she took alarm and got out. It was an 
excellent opportunity for a photograph, as the sun was 
shining brightly, but, unfortunately, the camera had been 
left at camp. Later in the day they saw a young bull; 
moose, which was too poor a specimen to shoot. 
The Senator and Robert spent Sunday night in the 
open camp, and started up the deadwater in the canoe 
about 6 o'clock Monday morning, September 21. They 
had almost reached the upper end when, upon rounding 
bend, they caught sight of a large set of antlers pro- 
jecting above the bushes on the right bank. The horns 
moved, and soon a monster bull moose stepped into view. 
This was the Senator's opportunity, and he made the 
most of it. He fired four quick shots and got ashore 
as quickly as possible. In doing so he slipped into a 
quagmire, which the guides call a moose bogan, and had 
considerable difficulty in extricating himself. Mean- 
while the moose had disappeared, but a few drops of 
blood were spattered on the bushes here and there, and, 
as afterward appeared, two of the four shots had taken 
effect, one in the neck and the other in the forward 
shoulder. Following the blood drops with great diffi- 
cult}', they slowly tracked their huge quarry, and after a 
search of about three-quarters of an hour spied him 
lying down in a dense piece of woods, badly wounded, 
He staggered to his feet and started off, but several more 
bullets quickly put an end to him. He was a large moose 
and had a magnificent pair of antlers, with a spread of 
52 inches and 26 points. They were beautifully palmated, 
and measured 14 inches in width at the broadest' place. 
A finer head is seldom seen. After being photographed, 
it was carried to the camp, later to be mounted. Both 
heads were subsequently shipped to Vanceboro, Me., 
where they are now in the hands of the taxidermist. 
In six days of hunting we had each of us killed a very 
fine moose, and -we were now prepared to enjoy the 
luxury of camp life, which we did for several days to the 
fullest extent. We feasted upon an abundance of fresh 
moose meat, which closely resembles beef, .and is excel- 
lent eating. 
On Friday, the 25th, we decided to try for caribou. 
Loaded down with blankets, grub, cooking utensils and 
rifles, we traversed five miles of rough country, the trail 
at times being nothing more than a line of blazed trees, 
and finally arrived at our destination, which was a barren 
about eight acres in extent. It is a sort of moss-covered 
bog, surrounded by dense woods, and so wet that no trees 
will grow there. The caribou come here to feed on the 
moss. 
After preparing camp, we took up our positions in the 
middle of the barren and watched until sunset, but no 
caribou appeared. We were about to give it up when we 
heard the horns of a bull moose rattling against the 
trees in the woods nearby. Herbert and I went over to 
the edge of the barren to see what was doing, and 
crouched down in a clump of bushes. Soon a cow 
moose emerged from the woods very near us, and walked 
out into the barren. After an interval a large bull moose 
followed her. After a while he saw us, and stopped. 
The poorest of marksmen could not have missed him as 
he stood there in the open staring at us for several 
minutes, not twenty yards away, broadside to us, bigger 
than a horse. As I had already killed one moose, which 
is all that the law allows, shooting him was, of course, 
out of the question, though the temptation was strong. 
We kept pretty still, as we were so near that we thought 
there might be some danger of his charging us, but he 
finally got scent of us and quickly turned and trotted 
into the woods, preceded by the cow. One seldom has 
an opportunity to observe a live bull moose at such close 
range, and we considered ourselves very fortunate. 
The next morning we returned to our home camp, hav- 
ing seen no caribou. 
There occurred one more interesting incident to mark 
the close of our hunting adventures. While returning 
along the trail from the deadwater one day we suddenly 
came upon a large black bear. Upon seeing us bruin 
lit out pell mell through the dense undergrowth. I got 
in one snap shot at him as he scurried through an open- 
ing in the thicket, but missed, and the bear is probably 
running yet. 
No one who visits New Brunswick can fail to be im- 
pressed with the fact that it is a wonderful game coun- 
try. We were in the woods eighteen days, and in that 
time saw thirty moose, three deer, a bear and scores of 
partridges. Caribou are very plentiful further to the 
north and east, where there are extensive barrens. The 
waters are teeming with trout and salmon. Excellent 
guides are always procurable, and the visitor everywhere 
meets with such considerate and hospitable treatment that 
he always remembers New Brunswick and her people 
with much pleasure, and longs to return to her primeval 
forests and again try his luck with his rifle in one of the 
greatest hunting regions in the world. 
Gardiner Kline. 
Amsterdam, N. Y. 
Kipling^s *'Red Gods/^ 
Log-Jams^ Shingle-Bars, Canoe-Poles^ Smoky Indians, and 
that Sort of Thing. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Since that genial member of the old guard of ob- 
serving forest rangers, skillful anglers and accomplished 
writers, Charles Hallock, founded your sporting jour- 
nal in 1873, I doubt if so much "spurious writing about 
angling and nature" has appeared in its columns as is 
contained in your issues of Sept. 26 over the signa- 
ture L. F. Brown, and in that of Oct. 17, over the 
name R. W. Ashcroft. About Mr. Brown's critique on 
the two quatrains he quotes from Kipling's Idyl, "The 
Feet of the Young Men," all I shall now say is that in 
everything . he condemns with all the confidence of 
ignorance, Kipling is right and Brown wrong, as 
every one who has the requisite knowledge and ex- 
perience of forest life will perceive. 
In your issue of Oct. 10, Manly Hardy, who writes 
from Brewer, Mo., in very courteous terms, endeavors 
to put Mr. Brown right. If B. is at bottom the clever 
and genial gentleman he is described by a common 
friend, I feel sure he will see and acknowledge the 
errors into which lack of experience on our Northern 
rivers and racing streams has led him. Anyone who 
has had that experience will recognize the essential 
truth of all that Mr. Hardy advances in defense of the 
vraisemhlance of Kipiling's wonderful word-pictures. 
The pleasure of reading Hardy's paper, with its inti- 
mate knowledge of forest life, will amply repay all 
sportsmen for the annoyance they , felt at Brown's 
offensive dogmatism, and almost move them to thank 
him for introducing us to so keen an observer and so 
ardent a lover of nature as Mr. H. proves himself in 
every line of his letter. 
In your issue of Oct. 17, R. W. Ashcroft, of your 
city, comes to the rescue of Mr. Brown, and shows 
himself a more pretentious critic than his friend. 
Why such incompetent writers as this man proves him- 
self, wiU foolishly "rush in where angels fear to tread'' 
and make an abortive attempt to criticise so exp'eri-- 
enced a woodsman as Mr. Hardy shows himself, is 
one of those "curiosities of literature" which, to quote 
my old friend Ned Sothern, "is one of these things 
that no fellah can understand." The whole of the two 
columns this writer perpetrates is, to use his own ele- 
gant diction, "such entire folderol as to make it laugh- 
able to real woodsmen," of whom he ignorantly sup- 
poses him to be a past master. 
The Old Angler is now in his eighty-third year. 
Since he caught his first trout with a worm on a 
bent pin and a piece of yarn for a line, he has been 
familiar with most of the rivers and racing streams of 
eastern Canada; but those of northern New Bruns- 
wick, the St. John, the Tobique, the Restigouche and 
its affluents, the "Tslepissiguit, the Miramichi, its 
branches and their tributaries, the Bartibog:ue and 
Tabusintac on the southern side of Bay Chaleur; the 
Scurimac, the Nouvelle, the two Cascapedias and the 
Bonaventure on its northern side, have been familiar 
haunts since early manhood, and he says, without fear 
of contradiction by anyone who has camped out and 
canoed on these racing streams, that every feature 
painted in Kipling's lilting quatrains is to be seen on all 
of them. Any canoeist and camper on any of these 
