390 
FOREST AND STREAM 
July, 1920 
Target practice through the summer 
will keep eye and nerves in training 
for the game season. 
LYMAN SIGHTS 
A No. 2A Combination 
Rear Sight, fitted with 
disc, will help you to 
make good scores on the 
range. Unscrew the disc 
and it is all ready for 
game. No. 5B gives you 
a Globe Front Sight for 
target work, and a clear 
white Ivory Bead for 
game. At your dealer’s, 
or send us his name and 
the make, model and cal- 
iber of your rifle, and 
ask us for Free Book of 
Lyman Sights for every 
purpose and every gun. 
LYMAN GUN 
SIGHT CORPORATION 
110 West Street 
Middlefield, Conn. 
No. 2A Combina- 
tion Rear Sight 
with Disc $6.00 
No. 5B Front 
Sight combina- 
tion Globe and 
Bead - - $2.00 
ShoofWhhouLNoise 
Do away with that old 
fashioned report, and 
the disturbance. Avoid 
flinching, improve your 
accuracy and enjoy pre- 
cision shooting any- 
where at any time with a 
MAXIM 
SILENCER 
Price, .22 cal.. S7.00. 
Send 6c in stamps for ci 
and booklet of humorous e 
of noiseless shooting. 
The Maxim Silencer Co. 
69 Homestead Ave. . Hartford. Conn. 
35c 
Pwtpald 
all lubrication and 
polishing around the 
house, in the tool shed 
or afield with gun or rod. 
NYOIL 
la the New Perfection 
Pocket PickifO 
U ■ matchleu combination. 
Sportsmen known it for 
jean. Dealers sell NYOIL at 
15c. and 35c. Send ns the name 
of a live one who doesn't sell 
NYOIL with other necessaries 
for sportsmen and we will send 
yon a dandy, handy new can 
(screw top and screw tip) con- 
taining t H oanees postpaid 
for 35 cents. 
WH. r. HTE, Sew BeJM. Hui. 
to pieces by these searchers for salt. In 
a nearby puddle of soft mud a flight of 
morning cloak and angle-wing butterflies 
were holding some sort of a fete, and all 
the trails led back toward the deserted 
cabins of the camp. So thither we went. 
And there a tragedy was opened up to 
us, a wilderness story of youth’s courage 
and age’s despair. For as we pushed 
open the swinging door, there confronted 
us the skeleton of a great cow moose, and 
around the scarred and gnawed logs the 
tale was written plainly. 
The cow and her calf had come in there 
after salt. That was clear. Then sonic 
gust of wind had blown the door shut, not 
locked, you understand, but just tight 
shut. And the two moose, mother ana 
oung, were trapped. We could see where 
she had pawed and hooked and nuzzled 
the door; we could see where she had 
plunged and dug and raged in fear and 
despair. And the brown bones told the 
tragic ending. The mother had striven 
till strength fled, and then had lain down 
to die. 
But the baby had not given up hope. 
There was a window, some five feet 
from the log floor, a small oblong win- 
dow, far too small for the mother, but 
sufficient, with desperate scrambling, for 
the baby. We could see where the tiny 
hoofs had scored the logs again and 
again; we could see where the baby had 
made a valiant fight to get through — and 
get through it did, by hook or crook, for 
outside the window were to be seen the 
marks of a wallowing fall, where the 
eaves had sheltered the traces from the 
storms, and the rest was clear. Baby 
moose had staggered off to the browse 
and freedom, while her mother looked 
despairingly from the window till 
strength and courage failed. 
Back of the tragic room we came on 
another porcupine, standing up on the 
rough manger. And the place bore evi- 
dence of many a happy moon she had 
spent there. Gray flying-squirrels had 
built a nest, near neighbors of Johnnie, 
but they had disappeared. Then, be- 
cause we wanted his photo, we prepared 
to haul Johnnie out in the light. 
Did you ever try it? So many things 
sound perfectly easy till you try them 
without tools. We struggled with Johnnie 
quite a while, — then fate threw a tub in 
our way, and the path smoothed out. 
While Charlie held the tub I pushed 
Johnnie from his perch and we toted him 
outdoors. 
But you can’t very well take a photo 
of a porcupine in a tub. The question 
was: how to get him out? Charlie Cre- 
min solved that with the rawhide lace 
of his moccasins. So we tried to noose 
Johnnie’s paw. There were five of us 
(for the other canoe had arrived), two 
guides, myself, my mate and little Mary. 
Also there was Johnnie who did not pro- 
pose to be lassoed thus. And for a time 
spines and prickles and grunts were in 
evidence. Finally we split a green 
stick, held the noose there, and got him 
by the paw. Then we led him to a nice 
stump to get his picture taken. But 
no camera can depict his comically hu- 
man movements. The black flies both- 
ered him, and he would reach up with 
the awkward movement of a drunnen 
man. He winked at us, grunted and threw 
up his bristles till he looked like a bear. 
But we took his picture after some fash- 
ion, and after another struggle got the 
noose loose and turned him free. John- 
nie waddled off swearing and grumbling 
at us all the way. 
C OMING hack up stream a buck 
jumped in great leaps right across 
the stream in front of us — a picture 
of wild life full of action and thrill. Then 
we saw the moose. 
This time the sun was shining, and as 
we passed the eritrance of Big Bogen I 
searched the distances for signs. There 
standing with its rear elevation towara 
us, I could see a moose through the 
glasses, but with the naked eye, not a 
thing. An instant later Charlie declared 
he saw a splash. 
There were three of us in the canoe, 
Charlie Cremin, my little daughter of ten, 
and myself. Thus we began our first 
stalk of moose in the open. 
The moose was fully two miles away, 
and our approach must be by the open 
water of the Bogen. So with Charlie in 
back, and myself paddling in front we 
began. Watching the game like hawks, 
we hung silent as a shadow when the 
head came up from feeding. Then when 
the head disappeared beneath the waters 
we paddled with every ounce of strength 
we could put into it, — but silently, oh, 
silently. Thus we came by infinite care 
to within two hundred yards. 
We saw clearly what it was then, a cow 
moose with her baby. It was the baby I 
had seen through the glasses; it was the 
cow Charlie had seen splash. The calf 
was still standing precisely where I had 
seen it before. r 
But now Mrs. Moose was a little 
troubled. She raised her head, neck 
stretched and ears stiffened till she looked 
like a big capital Y. And as she stood 
thus we froze, paddles trailing, till her 
head went down again. Then with all 
our might we shot forward. Again up 
came the head, the calf taking absolute- 
ly no notice of us. And this time, Char- 
lie said, “Rush her, put all you have in 
your paddle.” 
Then began the most exciting race I 
had ever taken part in up to that time. 
The mud there was very deep, the water 
in place scarcely covering it. The game 
trails leading there look as if they had 
been whitewashed. For yards on eacn 
side of the bush-lined path the mud was 
flung and scraped from the moose till the 
whole place looked most interesting. 
So here she was hampered by the deep 
mud, and we were hampered also by the 
shoal water. We heaved till I thought 
the paddles would break. But we moved 
a little faster than the moose. Yard by 
yard we crept along till we were right at 
her tail. But she was nearly ashore, and 
neither of us could stop for a photo. 
Right at the steep, slippery bank of 
moss-covered mud she went, and we tried 
to turn her out into the lake again, but 
in vain. She headed right out for the 
bank. Thus moose and canoe hit the 
bank at the same instant. 
(continued on page 409 ) 
