Forest and Stream 
$3 a Year, 10 Cts. a Copy, 
Six Months, $1.50. 
NEW YORK, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1912. 
VOL. LXXIX.—No. 21. 
127 Franklin St., New York. 
The Big Bull of Great Lake 
By “OLD WABEI” 
Photographs by the Author. 
THE BIG MOOSE. 
L IKE all hunters and sportsmen who hunt 
and travel the Canadian wilds and hear 
wonderful stories of exceptionally large 
deer, caribou or moose, so I on a previous trip 
had heard of the big moose of the Great Lake 
region. 
Now, a greater part of these stories are 
sometimes true, and it was my opportunity in 
a past season while hunting to hear such a won¬ 
derful tale that I decided that it was at least 
worth while to see what I could do, so acted 
accordingly. 
Whether I got the big bull I do not know. 
My readers may draw their own conclusions. 
The following season, as the time for hunt¬ 
ing drew near, I kept the mail busy with letters 
to my friend, whom I shall call “Lew,” for a 
proposed trip to the neighborhood of the big 
lakes near the upper portion of Shelbourne 
county. 
At last after several days of train and 
steamer I jumped off at the little station and 
was greeted by Lew and old Jim McKay. When 
Jim put eyes on me, his face beamed, and after 
shaking hands, he said: “Weel, weel, noo Jock, 
I’m verra glad to see ye,” and in reply to my 
questions about the prospects of a good hunt, he 
said: “Weel, mon, I hae nae doot that ye’ll 
manage to get rnuckle sport, ye ken the groons 
arecht.” I then told him of our proposed, direc¬ 
tion and his quaint answer was, “Ye’re a gid 
mon, and hae the proper spirit, it’s a rnuckle 
shame there’s nae Scotch in ye.” Lie would 
have talked longer, but as I was in haste to get 
to the woods I bade him good-bye and jumped 
into the team to take me to my friend’s house 
where I could unpack my trunk and transfer 
my dunnage into pack sacks and place them 
aboard the ox team for the first portion of our 
journey up the usual tote road. 
The first few days were incessant paddling 
and portaging around bad rapids. By the fourth 
day in the early morning we heard a cow call 
toward the east, evidently about a mile away 
from the river. We saw numerous good moose 
signs quite fresh. 
The scenery had become more and more 
wild as well as beautiful, and finally as we 
turned a bend in the river we saw before us 
the entrance to the lake, a sportsman’s paradise. 
Llere and there were several flocks of ducks 
in the distance, quite a few asleep on the rocks, 
while out in the lake many small islands thickly 
wooded having small sand banks, and in the 
shadows of the shore we could see the trout 
jumping after flies and bugs. It was indeed a 
sight such as would delight the heart of any 
sportsman and lover of nature. 
Upon entering the big lake we saw approach¬ 
ing on the western side a small hunting canoe 
in which were two Indians, John Glode and Louis 
Francis, one of whom I knew quite well. They 
greeted us with their customary “Bon jou, bon 
jou.” “How you come, eh? By river? We see 
good moose sign on de west side of lak; mebe 
you git dat big feller. We go down Walbi Lak 
for still-hunt; dat one good plac, must go now. 
Bon jou,” and with their curt answer, off they 
paddled away. 
We paddled about three miles further up 
the lake, found a sheltered spot and in a short 
time had our tent up and duffle unpacked, and 
while Lew cooked the supper of trout, beans and 
tea, I got busy with the spruce bough bed. 
After a short smoke, about an hour before 
sundown, we started in our canoe toward the 
northern end of the lake to try a call. We had 
to be extremely careful to keep well along the 
western side, as there was absolutely no wind, 
and sound can be heard a great distance on a 
clear, quiet evening. Finally Lew broke the 
stillness with “Let’s go ashore here and try a 
call.” So we pushed our craft into the shallows 
and waded ashore. 
Animals seem possessed of some marvel¬ 
ous power of distinguishing 4 between innocent 
sound and noises indicating danger, consequently 
and absolutely calm, windless night is required 
for calling, and moreover the game being so 
wary that in coming to a call it will always 
circle around and try to come up the wind in 
order to get a scent of the animal or being from 
which the call seems to come. So far for the 
technical part of the hunt. 
We carefully selected a small mound about 
a hundred feet from shore, facing a small birch 
growth. Lew climbed to the top. We waited, 
straining our ears to catch the slightest sounds, 
