April 8 , iqii.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
533 
low our camp where a deadwater makes up from 
the river, called McKeels Logan, and were about 
to give it up again for that night, when my 
guide stepped down to the edge of the water 
for one more call. As he parted the bushes at 
the river’s edge he looked up the deadwater, and 
there, standing in mud and water a most up to 
their bellies, were a bull, a cow and a caif. They 
were fully 350 yards from us, and it was growing 
dusky. Under cover we worked our way up 
the shore for about fifty yards, and then took a 
peek. 
The wind, what there was of it, was blowing 
toward them, and they were a 1 three looking 
directly toward us with their ears pointing for¬ 
ward. My guide did not want me to chance a 
shot, and suggested waiting until morning or the 
next night, with hopes of calling the buil out 
under more favorable conditions and get an 
easier shot, but I did not feel like that. Sitting 
perfectly still for an hour or two, shivering with 
I had made a long journey for just that one 
solitary shot, but it was worth it, and I want 
to try it again next fall. 
It was dark now and we poled down to our 
lean-to tent, talking and jabbering on the way 
and hoping the boys in the home camp had heard 
the shooting and would come down the river and 
lend us a helping hand in the morning. 
We started for the home camp at about 11 
p. m. It was inky dark, we were going against 
the current and the water was unusually low, 
so you can imagine we had trouble. I sat in 
the bow holding a lantern in my lap, thus shad¬ 
ing the light from my guide who could see ahead 
quite well, but for me there was nothing but a 
blank blackness. We had two short carries 
around some swift water, the worst one called 
“Big Louis” and the smailer one called “Louis 
Pup” and finally arrived at about 1 o’clock a. it., 
routed everybody out, made a big fire and had 
a regular pow-wow. After breakfast we all went 
I usually hunt in November after the rutting 
season is over. We called faithfully every eve¬ 
ning and eariy morning from Sept. 21 for nearly 
two weeks without receiving an answer to our 
calls. We just happened to get the game; the 
calling was without result. 
The woods were beautiful at that time of the 
year and we only had one rainy day. The trout 
fishing was always good and up to Oct. 1 we 
enjoyed this sport as well. 
This section is a fine game country, accord¬ 
ing to the signs, but the Grand Trunk Pacific 
Railroad is putting its line through there, and 
this I think will surely drive game to other 
parts. From our camp we cou'd hear steam 
shovels at work and locomotives whistling night 
and day. Prescott’s moose was shot within a 
few hundred yards of the railroad and must 
have crossed the tracks when he came down to 
drink. Little by little these grand game animals 
will be pushed further away, probably north of 
MR. COE AND HIS TROPHY. MR. PRESCOTT’S MOOSE. 
cold and cramps, waiting for an old bull to come 
out, gets wearisome after a week of it, so I 
said I would take a chance. The bull was in 
the middle of the deadwater, and just as I 
raised my gun the cow started to walk out. She 
went slowly and did not appear to be fright¬ 
ened. I took careful aim and fired at the bull. 
Me went down and never got on his feet again, 
although he lived for some time after and I 
was obliged to shoot him again at close quarters. 
When he saw the bull drop, my guide ran 
back after the canoe while I stood in my tracks, 
ready to shoot again in case the bull got on his 
feet. I then got into the canoe and we poled 
up to where the bull lay. It was an awful mud 
hole, and he was thrashing around and spatter¬ 
ing rich black mud in all directions. I was some¬ 
what nervous, sitting in the bow of the canoe 
as we poked up near the bull, but another shot 
ended his struggle, and wdth a lantern we began 
to look him over. 
We found that my bullet hit him square in 
the throat, just above his breast and came out 
near the backbone just forward of his hind 
quarters. He had fourteen points and a spread 
of only forty-two inches, hardly worth mention¬ 
ing, but think of the fun I had and how proud 
I felt as my guide praised and congratulated me. 
down and got the head and some of the best of 
the meat and brought all back to camp. 
Prescott got his moose a few days later. He 
was leaving the camp just before sunset to go 
up river to call with Charley McEwen, when he 
saw a bull drinking on the opposite shore about 
200 yards up stream. When he fired the first 
shot the buil dashed into the river and made 
for our side; I was a spectator to this and thor¬ 
oughly enjoyed it. It was a picture to see that 
big animal splash the water in front of him in 
his rush across the river. Prescott kept the bul¬ 
lets flying and stopped him before he got across. 
He did not fall, but stood near the bank in about 
three feet of water and did not attempt to cl mb 
the bank, which at that place was rather steep. 
Prescott got into a dugout and Charley poled 
him up for a closer shot, which he delivered at 
about sixty yards and downed the bull. This 
animal had a very pretty head with seventeen 
points and about the same spread as mine, but 
he was as fat as could be and his coat was as 
sleek as that of a well kept Government mule. 
We took home with us the best part of this 
animal and enjoyed eating it with other members 
of our families who know nothing of the sport, 
but who appreciate moose meat. 
This was my first experience in calling moose. 
the belt now traversed by the railroads connect¬ 
ing the Atlantic with the Pacific ocean. It is a 
sad subject for a sportsman to think about, but 
those who hunt moose ten or fifteen years from 
now will have to go further north for their 
game. C. W. Coe. 
Want Bounty on Squirrels. 
Since the bounty on squirrels was stopped 
several years ago the little pests have greatly 
increased in numbers until the question of hand¬ 
ling them has become of vital importance to the 
welfare of all growers of grain and vegetables. 
Every farmer has to ■ devote from five to 
fifteen days each year in fighting squirrels, and 
the annual cost of poison to each farmer av¬ 
erages $5- 
During the operation of the former squirrel 
bounty law the animals became quite scarce in 
this section, for men often made wages in the 
spring by a systematic campaign against the 
squirrels. The amount of damage caused each 
year in this county by squirrels runs into many 
thousands of dollars, causing a consequent de¬ 
crease in the amount of grains, grasses and 
vegetables produced and an increase in the cost 
of production.—Spokane Herald. 
