Riding the 
Wild Bull 
Moose of 
Grand Lake 
By DR. THOMAS TRAVIS 
‘SWE you want real thrills of 
| hunting, get into it not from 
long rifle range but hand to 
hand.” 
We were talking around the 
campfire way up in the New Bruns- 
wick wilds. And the talk turned 
to hunting in these days, as com- 
pared with the hunting of the past. 
“Why,” said Old Renz, the guide, 
“them old Indians got more fun and 
thrill with their bows and arrows 
and spears than any of us get out of 
hunting nowadays. We stand off at 
long range and shoot game down with 
a high power rifle. Where’s the thrill 
of that? Them Indians got right up to 
the game and fought it on terms where 
the game had a fair fight for its life.” 
It was Palmer, another guide, who 
put us on the trail. He pointed out an 
old Indian mound not fifty yards from 
where we were. Every dig of 
the shovel brought up broken or 
half-finished arrow heads, and 
spear tips, skinners, and frag- 
ments of pottery made by the 
Indians. On the pottery were 
the marks of the grass-basket- 
like mould in which they formed 
the pots. And our thoughts 
turned to the old days. 
Right here was an old Indian 
camp ground, evidently used for 
many years. And the reason 
for the camp ground was not 
far to seek. All around it 
stretched vast reaches of swamp 
and lake hugged close by the 
great green arms of the wilder- 
ness. Moose trails were plenti- 
ful. And to the south of us 
stretched a couple of square 
miles of quaking bogland, deep mud, 
oh, twenty feet deep, just covered with 
a foot or two of shallow water. 
T formed a natural moose trap. For 
right in the middle of the bog lay 
a little island, if you can call it that— 
a less watery place, covered with lush 
moose feed, lily pads, “mooseears,” and 
juicy grass, tender as lettuce. We had 
been watching the moose come in. 

Dr. Thomas Travis 
If You Think 
You Are Thrill- 
Proof, Just Try 
This 
It was then the picture of the 
past rose before me. A couple of 
painted birch-bark canoes filled 
with red savages. <A big bull 
moose cornered in the bog; the wild 
yell of triumph as they closed in 
on him; and then the fight, hand to 
hand, with the old moose facing 
them with lowered horns, bared 
teeth, bristling mane and blazing 
eyes. The massive barrel of the 
moose furred with arrows, and his 
Right then there were a cow moose 
feeding in the shallows, and two fine 
deer grazing at the edge of the swamp. 
The lay of the land was such that when 
a moose got to that little island, a 
nostrils snorting foam as he fought the 
thing through to a finish. Certainly 
there was action and thrill enough in 
the old method of hand to hand hunt- 
ing. 
canoe could creep right on to it, if the 
wind were right, and cut it off before 
it could get out of the deep mud and 
water. You had the moose just as if 
it were wading through deep snow, 
Dr. 
events at first-hand. He was one of the few 
Americans with the Anzacs in the Great War, 
serving on the famous Ypres-Armentieres front 
in Flanders. He saw the Red Indian in the 
trenches facing the White Man’s war magic. 
He was six times through the submarines and 
also was with the Australians when they blew 
up Messines Ridge. 
Dr. 
Thomas Travis has taken part in big 
Travis is an explorer of the wilds, a 
hunter of big game with the camera, a writer 
of books and short stories, an editor and a 
lover of rod and reel in all the waters from 
Newfoundland to Florida and from Ontario 
and Quebec to Catalina Island. 

O we planned a stunt. 
right now get in some hand to hand 
hunting? 
bull, stalk him in the swamp, put aside 
Why not 
Why not round up a good 
all firearms, and when we have 
the moose brought to bay, mount 
and ride him? There ought to 
be thrills enough in that—and 
besides, we would go the old In- 
dians one better. We would 
actually grip the old moose with 
bared hands, and wrestle with 
him on equal terms. 
The idea took hold, and we 
started right in to put it over. 
There were six of us gathered 
finally for the trial. Frank N. 
Alexander, with his moving pic- 
ture camera from the Associated 
Screen News of Canada; Harry 
Allan, the well-known guide of 
Penniac, N. B.; Charlie McGiv- 
ney and Wallace Bridges, both 
rangers and game wardens of 
New Brunswick, and Floyd G. 
while you could skoot over the shallow 
water with speed in a light canoe. 
T’ll bet the old Indians knew this, and 
for that very reason made camp here. 
They could get a moose anytime with- 
out the work of chasing it, and with 
the minimum of trouble and loss of 
arrowheads and spears. For it took a 
lot of time in those days to make a 
spear head or arrow tip out of 
stone. 
Palmer, a guide of Grand Lake. The 
sixth man was myself, the rider. 
WE expected to put in a week or 
two before we got things just as 
we wanted them. For we must have 
clear evidence of the acting. And, too, 
we must get a motion picture of the 
ride, as a souvenier which we could 
throw on the screen and watch with 
almost as much fun as we expected in 
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