Oct. 26, 1912 
FOREST AND STREAM 
519 
A NEW BRUNSWICK CARIBOU. 
A NORTHERN NEW BRUNSWICK MOOSE. 
about 3 o’clock in the afternoon, when we had 
actually seen eighty caribou, but nothing large 
enough to take. Had I not possessed my New¬ 
foundland trophies, however, I should certainly 
have selected one of them. 
About 3:30, a herd of eight came into sight, 
led by the very prince of his fellows. This head 
satisfied me in every detail, and made me feel 
that nothing would be left to be desired if I 
could land it. The big fellow was in a difficult 
position to stalk from where we were, but, 
after an hour’s maneuvering, I got up within 
range. The picture tells the rest of the story. 
This picture was not taken that evening, as it 
was too late. We left him where he fell until 
the next morning, when we found that he had 
stiffened during the night, so that we raised 
him to his feet, put a little spruce under his 
jaw and took the picture shown. 
On this particular barren, from this one 
lookout, in two- hours’ hunting one day, and 
about six hours the next day, we saw one hun¬ 
dred and seventeen caribou. The friend who 
was with me went up the next morning to the 
same lookout, and before he shot, saw forty- 
three caribou, so that on this one barren, in three 
days’ watching, there passed 160 different cari¬ 
bou, which certainly entitles this section of the 
country to be classed as a caribou country. 
That same night about eight inches of snow 
fell, and the next morning we went up the val¬ 
ley, looking for moose. We had not gone far, 
when we struck a trail of four, among which 
was a large track, which clearly indicated a 
big bull. After about an hour of traveling and 
trailing, the guide stopped suddenly, pointing 
with his right hand into a clump of spruce. 
When I looked, I saw the big fellow lying 
down. He saw 11s about the same time and im¬ 
mediately sprang to his feet, but that was as 
far as he got. 
In conclusion, I will state that we saw more 
caribou in three days of actual hunting for cari¬ 
bou in this section than I saw in Newfoundland 
in ten days. Again, not only is it reasonably 
sure that you will get a nice specimen of this 
game, but your chances for getting a moose are 
very good, so that with deer, moose and cari¬ 
bou, you have three possibilities in New Bruns¬ 
wick, two of which cannot be realized in 
Newfoundland. I should not recommend going 
to New Brunswick for caribou until, say about 
the first of November. Previous to this time, 
the caribou are in the green woods, and 
do not come out on the barrens until cold 
weather sets in. Then they come for hun¬ 
dreds of miles through the big timber out to 
these barrens. 
In Newfoundland, wherever a caribou lies 
down to sleep at night, he will find his break¬ 
fast awaiting him in the morning, as the moss 
feed practically covers the island. 
In New Brunswick this is not so. This 
particular moss grows in a very limited area, 
so that the caribou, in order to get it, must 
centralize on these comparatively small barrens, 
making your chances of success practically 
sure. I believe the Newfoundland caribou heads 
run a little larger, as an average, but if you 
are not too anxious and will hold your fire long 
enough, you can secure a beautiful specimen in 
Northern New Brunswick, and, in addition, if 
you are presevering, you can get a bull moose, 
as well as two deer. 
Aside from the question of game, I shall 
never forget the beautiful panorama spread out 
before me when I reached the top of the first 
mountain chain on the South Shore of New¬ 
foundland. Off to the south was the broad, 
blue Atlantic, with not a sail in sight, and to 
the North, the barren waste—mountain chain 
after mountain chain outlined against the blue 
sky. As I stood there, looking on this beauti¬ 
ful picture, with no sign of man’s work in sight, 
either on land or water, I could not help but 
feel that there was a lesson to be learned from 
that which was before me. Living, as most of 
11s do, in the big cities, surrounded by sky¬ 
scrapers, electric railways, and all the other 
complexities of modern city life, we are in¬ 
clined to feel the sense of our own importance, 
and a pride in the things that we have accom¬ 
plished, but the thought came to me there how 
really insignificant would be the efforts of all 
mankind, should it be asked to duplicate even 
that small portion of the universe outlined be¬ 
fore me. Indeed, how absolutely insignificant 
are our works in comparison with those of our 
Creator. One needs to get back to nature to 
come to a proper realization of this fact. 
THE TOP RAIL. 
I was in Billy Townsend’s gun store recently 
and in a talk with an old-time ducker, who yet 
occasionally shoulders his beloved double barrel 
for a day in the field, I gathered some informa¬ 
tion which should prove interesting. He was 
talking of the days of the market hunter, when 
it was no crime or disgrace to defray one’s shoot¬ 
ing expenses by selling his game. 
One season—it must have been nearly a 
quarter of a century ago—he made a bag of 
over 800 mixed ducks, canvasbacks, redhead, 
mallard, widgeon, bluebill and teal. 
He was then a fair field shot, and it re¬ 
quired a good many forays upon the many ad¬ 
jacent ducking grounds to make the final count 
he did. So much for his dexterity as a hunter. 
Say, for instance, that he had killed an even 
sixty-seven dozen birds, and sold them at the 
highest market price, and yet they would not 
have brought him more than $50 or $60. Com¬ 
pare this sum with his expenses; in those days 
manifold more than they would be to-day: 
Time, $100; railroad fare, $50; ammunition, $50; 
indicentals, $50; or a total of $250, or $200 more 
than the birds would have brought him if he had 
sold them all. 
If the average duck hunter did not derive 
more sport than lucre out of the shooting, he 
would never go out. But no true sportsman 
then had any thoughts of augmenting his bank 
account through the instrumentality of his favo¬ 
rite sport; enjoyment and health were his main 
and only objects. 
What royal fun it is, beginning with the 
anticipating pleasure of an expedition, continu¬ 
ing delightfully on through all the work of 
preparation, and culminating in a grand cata¬ 
clysm of happiness when once the camp-fire is 
blazing. Grizzly King. 
