THE MOOSE OR FLAT-HORNED ELK 
eat quantities of grass and ferns which they reach by straddling the legs 
apart if it is short. They rise and feed at dawn and at irregular periods 
between sunrise and sunset, lying longer dosing and chewing the cud 
than other deer. They are very fond of various marsh plants, especially 
equisetum or joint-grass and various rushes, and no diet is more agreeable 
to them than the stalks, roots and leaves of the yellow pond lily. To obtain 
these they often plunge the head under water, drawing it out again 
suddenly as if fearful of surprise. I have stalked close up to a cow moose 
thus engaged and found that she bore a comical appearance with her 
face of strained surprise all covered with mud. When the short branches 
of trees are high and difficult to reach, moose have a habit of forcing a 
sapling down between their forelegs and then moving forwards until 
the tops are on a level with their heads, and so enjoy a good meal. This is 
known as “riding down’’ a tree, and where these deer are plentiful 
numerous bent and broken trees are always to be found. 
I was never more struck by the expert woodcraft of the Indian than one 
day on a lake near Kippewa, when my Algonquin Indian, Angus, strolled 
casually past what looked to me a perfectly fresh spoor of a large bull 
moose. 
I was naturally disappointed and could not help remarking, “ Was not 
that a fresh track ? ” 
“ Oh yes, fresh track, boss, but eleven hours old,” he replied. 
I must know his reasons, so ventured to demand an explanation with 
the somewhat weak query of “ How do you know ? ” 
The old hunter gave a grunt of impatience as much as to suggest how 
it could be possible that any woodman should ask such a question. Turning 
back to the spoor he walked a short distance along it, looking not on the 
ground but up in the air. Presently his hand reached upwards and he 
nipped off the point of a salix shoot, cleanly bitten at the end by the vanished 
deer. On the end of this shoot was a gelatinous bulb of sap, now slightly 
hardened. 
“ See,” he observed, touching the point which immediately became 
liquid, “ sap come out of wood for ten hours and then get hard so— -moose 
go by eleven hours ago — so — no good follow.” It was a fine piece of observa- 
tion that he had detected a broken twig as he had passed. 
I think the finest piece of woodcraft I have seen performed was done 
by my Liard River Indian, Albert, one day in Gassiar, British Columbia. 
I had been at death’s door for ten days with pleurisy and pneumonia 
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