In the Land of Big Moose. 
Last year, when we decided to go for moose 
instead of making our usual trip into the 
Adirondacks, we were at sea as to details. 
Several months were spent in corresponding 
with different parties in Maine and Canada, and 
hundreds of letters accumulated. It may in¬ 
terest others who are planning such a trip, and 
save correspondence, if we give a brief ac¬ 
count of ours. 
It was finally decided our hunting was to be 
•done on the ground just opened up by George 
Gough, some sixty miles northeast of Plaster 
Rock, New Brunswick. Our party of four left 
Rochester the evening of Sept. 22, reached 
Montreal next morning, and went on to Levis 
that afternoon. A day was spent in Quebec, 
but forest fires had so filled the air with smoke 
that very little of the splendid view could be 
obtained. The next morning we left early for 
Riviere du Loup, where we stayed over night, 
continuing our journey in the morning, and 
reaching Plaster Rock at 8:30 P. M., via Ed- 
mundston and Perth Junction. 
This route necessitates several changes, and 
is unnecessarily long. Returning we took a 
Canadian Pacific train from Perth Junction di¬ 
rect to Montreal, via McAdam and Vanceboro. 
This made but one change necessary, at Mc¬ 
Adam, where a first-class supper was served us 
in the hotel. 
When we awoke the next morning, Mr. 
Bishop, who runs a hotel at Plaster Rock, was 
ready with good horses to drive us the thirty- 
five miles to Nictau. The roads were in excel¬ 
lent condition, and fast time was made. We 
found the drive very enjoyable, it being for 
the most part along the Tobiqtie River. Mr. 
Bishop charges $20 for a party of two and $30 
for three, including baggage. This price in¬ 
cluded taking the party to Nictau and bringing 
them out at the end of their hunt. 
At Nictau we were met by George Gough, 
our head guide. Nictau has but one house, 
which is owned by Mr. Miller. He has cleared 
perhaps 150 acres along the river and running 
back to the hills. At the time we were there 
nothing could have been more beautiful in the 
way of natural scenery. The place looks 
prosperous at every turn. Big barns, well kept; 
big new houses and new canoes everywhere. 
The Tobique River is full of trout and salmon. 
Some of the canoes are owned by Mr. Miller 
and some are stored there by the different 
guides who make his place headquarters. The 
salmon fishing is owned by the Tobique Salmon 
Club, and strangers are not allowed to fish the 
stream. 
On Sunday we started early for camp, walk¬ 
ing, the baggage being carried in a heavy two- 
horse. wagon. At noon we had six ruffed 
grouse. We stopped for rest and dinner at a 
lumber camp, and by night we had walked 
twenty miles without undue fatigue. This sur¬ 
prised and gratified us, as three of our party 
■had hardly walked a mile at a time all summer. 
Here was a lumber camp, occupied by a cook 
who had spent the summer here looking out 
for the property. We were made welcome, 
given a place to spread our sleeping bags, and 
a supper of delicious bacon, bread, molasses, 
tea and potatoes. For breakfast we had more 
of this, and in addition, our partridges. This 
camp is at Buver Brook, a stream filled with 
trout, and is also on the Serpentine River—at 
the time we were there filled with salmon. 
The next day a twelve-mile walk took us into 
camp. The camp is composed of two main 
ASA MARSTON, A NEW BRUNSWICK GUIDE, CALLING 
A MOOSE. 
buildings, one with sleeping accommodations 
for four guests, the other the cook house. The 
guides sleep in open camps, and the horses are 
tied to the trees in the woods. Another year 
Mr. Gough will have two saddle horses and two 
pack horses for the accommodation of those 
who prefer to .ride. 
Within a quarter of a mile of camp is No 
Man’s Lake, and beyond that another quarter 
of a mile. Lost Man’s Lake, both good hunting 
ground. Two of our party were to hunt here, 
and two to go to a lake four miles away, where 
a tent had already been pitched and supplies 
provided. That afternoon, those who were to 
hunt there started out, one in one direction, 
the other in another, no two ever hunting near 
enough together to receive a stray bullet. To¬ 
ward dusk we heard several shots at No Man’s 
I.ake. Mr. W. had found a big fellow on the 
shore opposite him, but the distance and poor 
light of the late afternoon made accurate shoot¬ 
ing difficult, and he got away. 
On Tuesday Asa Marston, George Gough, 
with K. and myself, walked four miles to the 
tent. The trail was rough but well blazed. The 
lake here is half a mile long and two hundred 
yards wide. K. was to hunt the lake nearby, 
while George Gough and I hunted a barren a 
mile and a half distant. 
After dinner I started out on my first moose 
hunt, the trail taking us through a little barren 
of perhaps ten acres. As we skirted the edge, 
just inside the bushes, I saw an enormous 
pair of antlers over the tops of some little 
spruce trees, and called Gough’s attention to 
them, asking if I should shoot, as it was agreed 
he should judge whether the specimen was 
worth taking. ‘'Shoot!” he replied. I remem¬ 
ber the satisfaction of that word. Between two 
trees I could see a small part of the bull’s 
shoulder, and aiming low, fired. He dropped 
like a stone, but lay threshing around and 
bellowing. We walked around where we could 
see him plainly, and when he tossed his fore 
legs in the air, I shot again as near the heart 
as possible. This finished him. This distance 
was 75 yards, and the rifle of .35 caliber, bullet 
soft nose, 200 grains. This moose measured 
six feet ten inches, to the top of his shoulder. 
It took over two hours to skin it out and get 
the head ready to pack to the main camp. It 
had rained all day, but my waterproof canvas 
suit kept me dry except above the knees. I re¬ 
turned to the tent, stripped, with a fire in our 
little sheet-iron stove, my face dripping 
perspiration, while my clothes hung over the 
ridge pole drying out. K. came in at dusk. 
He had had no luck, but plenty of courage. 
I slept like a bullet in my comfortable sleep¬ 
ing bag. It is remarkable how these guides 
stand extremes, cold and heat. Both went to 
sleep at once, each rolled up in a single blanket 
on a very scant bed of boughs, with their wet 
clothes on, and awoke at the first indication of 
daylight. George Gough and Asa Marston are 
good workers. The air there is simply de¬ 
licious, no other word describes it; and the 
water is excellent. It is nearly always crystal 
clear, though some streams are faintly brown. 
Oct. 2 was another rainy day. K. and Asa 
started early as usual for the lake. We were 
just finishing the breakfast things when we 
heard K’s gun. Snatching another rifle, we 
made quietly for the lake, and met them skirt¬ 
ing the shore for the other side, Asa all the 
while calling softly on his birch-bark horn, 
hoping, in case the moose was, only wounded, 
to hold him until K. could get another shot. 
Here is K.’s description: 
“After breakfast I went down to the lake 
with Asa and took my position behind a clump 
of trees, where I have been watching for several 
days. I noticed that during the night a moose 
had walked right across the boughs I used as 
a seat. Asa stationed himself, with his birch 
