i;6 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Aug. 4, 1906. 
A Woman’s Moose Hunt. 
(Concluded from Page 1-S6.) 
I was beginning to realize the uncertainty 
of moose hunting; for, while we had seen a 
great many, I had only had a chance to shoot 
one, and could only have had one shot at it. 
The weather was bad. We had a great deal ot 
rain, with cold variable winds, that carried 
our scent in every direction. When they fin¬ 
ished remodeling the beds, we went to Peaked 
Mt. Lake, but came back to camp early in the 
evening. The rain had turned to snow, and the 
weather was very cold. It froze hard that 
night, and our tent was frozen stiff in the 
morning. It was a good deal like sleeping in 
cold storage. 
We went to a barren about two miles be¬ 
yond Harris Lake the next morning, it was 
a long walk, but the woods were beautiful and 
we enjoyed it. The barren was perhaps two 
miles long, with a shallow lake in the center. 
Near one end is a spring of ice-cold water 11. 
a basin about a yard square. The bottom 
of the basin is covered with white sand, ana 
the water coming up in the center keeps the 
sand constantly'' boiling up over an area 01 
about two inches. The basin was full of tiny 
little trout. We went entirely around the 
barren, and in one end of the lake, which is 
not much but a mud hole, we could see the 
trails of moose through the mud in the bot¬ 
tom. It seemed impossible for so large an 
animal to go through such a bog and not get 
mired. But the trails we saw and the dried 
mud on the trees and bushes around this end 
of the lake was evidence that they went 
through frequently. 
We found the birds very interesting. One 
afternoon we watched a fight between a hawk 
and some bluejays. The jays finally won the 
battle. One morning we were watching the 
Canada jays and the crossbills pick up scraps 
around the cabin. The woods across the river 
appeared to be full of birds, when a hawk 
came flying down over the trees. The jays 
gave the alarm, and in less than a minute there 
was scarcely a bird to be seen. The hawk 
perched on a dead tree and waited. The curi¬ 
osity of the jays would soon bring one out, 
when the hawk would dart for it. and the jays 
would scream and fly for cover. Both the 
jays and crossbills would come on the porch 
for scraps, but when any one went to the door 
they would fly to the roof, and it was amusing 
to see the crows come to the edge of the 
porch roof and stretch their necks to see if 
any one was below. We often went to the 
edge of the porch and looked up at them; they 
seemed so surprised and their little crossed 
bills looked so funny. 
One evening at Harris Lake a flock of rob¬ 
ins lit on the shore just in front of us. There 
were perhaps forty or fifty of them. They 
played there for a long time, darting back and 
forth very much as swallows do. I had never 
seen a flock of robins before, and thought 
they were swallows. Another interesting bird 
was one that commenced his low, plaintive call 
about sundown. He always seemed to be in¬ 
terrupted, and his song never seemed to be 
finished; but there was a weird plaintiveness 
about it that never failed to interest yet half 
annoy us. 
In the evening we saw three moose on the 
other side of Harris Lake. Knowing one of 
them was a bull, we made what I called a 
record run around the lake, but by the time we 
got there the moose had started across to the 
other side. We turned back and reached the 
end of the lake about the time they did, but 
the bull was small. 
I would be so tired when we reached camp 
at night that it did not seem possible for me 
to be rested enough to go hunting the next 
day. But in the morning I was perfectly rested 
and ready for anything. 
The morning of Sept. 28 dawned clear and 
bright, and as we followed the trail up the 
ridge to Peaked Mt. Lake through the sweet 
ferns and fallen leaves, life could hold no 
greater pleasure. September had thrown oft 
her sullen mood and was all smiles of wel¬ 
come. The sun filtered down through the 
yellow leaves, the air was soft and balmy, there 
was no wind and we could see a patch of blue 
sky where the trail appeared to end, at the top 
of the ridge. The morning was perfect, life 
was worth living, we were happy, and had for¬ 
gotten that we were not children. 
Our lunch of broiled moose steak, toasted 
cheese, bread, butter, tea and ginger bread 
was eaten near the lake. As no moose had 
been seen, Dan proposed going to another lake 
about three miles away. 
In a grove of tall maple trees was a pine 
tree about twelve feet high. The bright red 
and yellow maple leaves were strewn thickly 
DANIEL MUNN’S HUNTING CABIN. 
.over the pine tree. The sun shining on them 
brought out their beautiful colors, and made 
a gorgeous Christmas tree, for exceeding those 
of civilization. The forest was beautiful, the 
colors splendid. 
“The maples are golden again, trans'ucently yellow and 
clear; 
The sumac is crimson as blood, and tremulous tintings 
appear; 
Rare bronzes'and purples and greens that blend with 
the deep of the shade, 
For now in their robes of farewell, the forests are fully 
arrayed.” 
Before we had gone a mile a few drops of 
rain fell, which soon increased, and it rained 
hard all afternoon. We stopped to watch a 
porcupine cross the trail and climb a tree, 
thinking of course we would turn back. Dan 
got up, reached for the rifle with one hand 
and the moose call with the other, saying, “A 
little wet this afternoon.” He made the re¬ 
mark in the same cheerful tone he would have 
used if he had said, “A fine day.” He started 
on, and we meekly followed, knowing it was 
our moose we were after. A deserted lumber 
camp near the lake was lined with tar paper, 
and Dan said he would make us each a water¬ 
proof coat. He tore off a piece of the paper 
and cut a round hole in the middle of it, 
through which he put his head. Dan had his 
on when we started home, and insisted on 
Archy wearing one. Archy said he did not 
need one, for his coat would not get wet 
through. “Of course, we don’t need them,” 
Dan said, “but think of the novelty.” Dan 
wore his to camp, which we reached very tired 
and very, very wet. I thought my heavy 
woolen skirt weighed a ton. We heard a moose 
call, but it was a long way off and would not 
answer. We had more fun and laughed more 
that afternoon than on any other two days of 
our hunt. Hunting was hard work. Every 
faculty was on the alert, every nerve was 
strung to a high tension. Night found us tired 
mentally as well as physically, but soon after 
we crept in among the blankets all was ob¬ 
livion till awakened either by the cold or Tom 
commencing to get breakfast. 
On the way to Harris Lake in the morning 
I asked Dan what he would give me for my 
chance of getting a moose. He studied a 
moment and said, “Well, I would not give 
very much.” That about settled it for me; it 
was the first time he had discouraged me. In 
the afternoon we went to the edge of a barren, 
and Archy and I sat down to watch, while the 
Doctor and Dan went to a spring for a drink. 
They stayed so long we were thinking of going 
after them with a long pole to fish them out of 
the spring, when they returned with a porcu¬ 
pine hide. The Doctor wanted the hide then, 
but has changed his mind since. When watch¬ 
ing a lake or a runway, I thought every noise 
I heard was a moose, and this afternoon 1 
heard about a dozen. When I heard a noise 
I would look at Archy, but he either had not 
heard it or it was no moose, for he was per¬ 
fectly indifferent. Then I would settle down 
to listen for another one. Twice I mustered 
up courage to tell him I heard a moose. The 
first time it was a squirrel dropping pine cones, 
and the next time it was the wind swaying a 
limb, against which a dead tree had fallen. 
On the lakes I could see a moose in almost 
any direction I looked. Fortunately, I did 
not often mention it to the guides; and when 
they did not see them I waited for my moose 
to move, which it seldom did. 
Toward evening we would get so cold, it 
was - hard to crouch down among the bushes 
and keep still. I suspect it was much harder 
for the Doctor than for me, as it was my 
moose we were hunting. One evening the 
Doctor could stand it no longer, and think¬ 
ing he heard a moose in the lake, he got up 
and, keeping well back in the bushes, went 
around the point to the lower end of the lake. 
When he saw there was no moose there, he 
very leisurely walked along the shore in plain 
view till he came back to where I was. Dan, who 
had been watching from another point, on see¬ 
ing the Doctor walking along the shore, came 
to hold a conference with Archy. Seeing the 
guides engaged in earnest conversation, the 
Doctor stopped and asked what was the mat¬ 
ter. I suggested that Dan would probably 
let him know when he got him to camp. He 
laughed and sat down. 
About sunset that evening we saw a deer 
away at the upper end of the lake, and while 
we were w r atching it a bull moose put its head 
out through the bushes, but did not come out 
on the shore. We went back into the woods 
and started for the upper end of the lake as 
fast as we could: but when we got there the 
deer and the bull moose were gone. There 
was nothing left but an old cow. 
On our way to Peaked Mt. Lake the next 
morning, we heard a moose call. Dan called 
and the moose answered him. When the 
moose answered the next call we could tell he 
was coming toward us. Dan said, “He’s com- 
