J an _ 7, 1911] FOREST AND STREAM. 
from the direction of Ike, and immediately there 
was a crashing and smashing of underbrush 
across the meadow. Soon an object came 
through the brush on to the meadow and stop¬ 
ped for a few seconds. 
I saw it was a moose and a fine one, but it 
seemed I had forgotten that I had a rifle, and 
just lay there and stared and shook. The ani¬ 
mal swung around and started straight for our 
rock and came within 125 yards, then stopped 
and put his head up to sniff the air. Just as he 
started to go, there was a loud report from Ike’s 
o’d Snider, and when the smoke cleared, the 
moose was getting up. By this time Ike had 
another cartridge in his rifle, and fired again. 
When the smoke cleared I saw the moose run¬ 
ning toward the river and Ike called to me to 
shoot. Up to this time I had not thought of 
Happenings at Scraggy Neck. 
East Wareham, Mass., Dec. 19.— Editor 
Forest and Stream: The two following inci¬ 
dents occurred some thirty-five y<jars ago. 
It was raining with that steady patter which 
promises an all day’s storm, but the wind had 
risen, and there were some streaks of light 
through the dull lead-colored sky that indicated 
a change. 
The boys were having a game of seven up, 
while guns and wet clothes were drying about 
the room. The shanty was only a short ways 
from the shores of Squeteague Pond and a mile 
from the gunning beach at Scraggy Neck. They 
had been down there early in the morning 10 
try their luck at sheldrakes and old squaws as 
they flew across from the large bay to their 
neck with the prospect of his coming off at any 
minute. 
Out of courtesy to Tuck the boys had re¬ 
frained from shooting at several fowl that flew 
over temptingly near, and all were expectantly 
looking toward the neck. Soon a bunch of red 
was seen coming across the open flat below 
Allen’s barn. Every man made ready. In a 
moment the fox was on the beach. A high 
windrow of seaweed lay along high water 
mark. Below this the cunning fellow ran, and 
only a glimpse of his back was shown Sumner 
and Louis. Tuck saw the ruse, and jumping 
from his stand ran to head reynard off. It was 
close, the hound was in sight baying splendidly, 
foxy ran as never before and Tuck sprinted like 
Hippomenes running from Atalanta. Too fast, 
in fact, for he could not stop to aim, and fired 
THE TETONS FROM A HUNTER’S WAGON. 
From a photograph by G. W. Ridge. 
shooting, but I picked up courage, grabbed my 
rifle, took careful aim and fired, and down came 
the old fellow in a heap. Ike called out, 
“Bravo!” and started to run toward him. I 
did not feel like getting too close till I was sure 
he was dead, but Ike went right up, took hold 
of one of the horns, and said that my bu.let had 
broken his neck, and to bring my knife and cut 
his throat. I told him I thought he understood 
it better, and Ike said he thought I had a touch 
of buck fever. Ike cut his throat, counted the 
points on the horns and found there were eigh¬ 
teen, nine on each, which I supposed would make 
him a nine-year-old. 
We finished dressing the carcass by 9 a. m., 
covered the meat with the hide and some moss 
and boughs, and started for camp. We hunted up 
Josh and told him of our luck, and he got one of 
the teamsters and a yoke of oxen and a go- 
devil—a kind of sled used in the logging woods 
—and after dinner we started after our moose. 
We got back, a very tired but happy pair, and 
I can tell you there was general rejoicing at the 
prospects of a roast of moose meat. The walk¬ 
ing boss has the head mounted, and I have a 
fine rug made from the hide. 
A. G. Simmonds. 
feeding grounds in Red Brook Harbor. 
A 1 Wing and “Old Tuck” were fox hunting 
on the neck when the boys arrived. A 1 had 
gone on with his hound, leaving Tuck to shoot 
the fox, when it came off. As these men had 
arrived first, Tuck had chosen the best stand, 
known as the “Seaweed Blind.” This was about 
in the center of the beach either way, and the 
most popular and coveted of all the stands there. 
It was rightly named, well made with thick 
walls of dry seaweed, warm and comfortable on 
windy days and also was in the best place. This 
beach was really an isthmus between the neck 
and main land. As it was much resorted to by 
duck shooters, a number of blinds were strung 
along from one end to the other. Those nearest 
the center were considered the best and the boys 
took them, Sumner and Louis Landers going 
on the west side nearest the neck, while Henry 
Lombard and Tom Fuller settled themselves in 
some low dunes nearer the main. 
As day came on, a fine drizzle started with a 
freshening southeast wind. This made ideal 
ducking weather, but was miserable for fox 
hunting. However, Al’s hound had been for 
some time working up a track and now voiced 
out in great style, the fox running around the 
a wild first into the seaweed, and a wilder second 
into space as he shot headlong over the wind¬ 
row himself. 
Lombard and Fuller were so intently watch¬ 
ing the proceedings that they neglected to run 
across in time to get a shot, and the fox es¬ 
caped. Their disappointment and Tuck’s chag¬ 
rin were as nothing to A 1 Wing’s disgust when 
that worthy reached the spot wet through and 
out of breath, his hound and the fox gone off 
into the .Succonnussett Hills for the rest of the 
day. He had gotten to the open in time to see 
Tuck’s performance, and after some spirited re¬ 
marks on very poor shooting, intended for all 
concerned, he pointedly asked Tuck if he had 
tried to catch the fox. “I seen you dive after 
him,” he said. 
By this time the storm grew worse and the 
gunners, with the exception of Sumner, started 
back to the shanty. Sumner was a gunner and 
had it in his blood. “I’m going to get a fowl,” 
he said, as the others were leaving, but the fowl 
had all found their feeding places for the day, 
and after waiting for some time without seeing 
any, he left the beach and started back toward 
the shanty. As he neared Squeteague Pond he 
saw a “plum pudding” fly across and alight in 
