Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1860-08-27
Moose Hunting.


was flowing out in a story about "Wrastlin''
VIII, who lived nigh the Ausable Forks when
suddenly he stopped
Look there, MIR. Smith," said he "ain't
that moosey lookiu'9"
glanced around, but saw nothing.
Here, Mr.. Smith, turning aside a leaf of
brake There was a track stamped in the
black ooze Of the bank, much larger and more
round than a deer's nevertheless long eand
somewhat pointed.
"ls that moose track, Harvey?"
"'Taint nothin else, and not an hour old
nuther," answered he
I'm in fur that moose" said Phin, starting
from log where he had been seated with his
rifle between his knees, and moving rapidly
toward thicket. "Thats the dod blamedst
big moose what's goin' and I'm after i'm
emmy way"
Stop Phin," said his father, ''the moose
amt behind that aire no how. DON'T YOU see
the tracks plnted torts the water See there
where he's fed" gancing towards the lily.
pads, all torn and tilted near the margin.
Lets be gon' though moose don't stay long
IN one place, and we may get shot atore we
know't."
Closely examining the wooded hills, we
crossed the pond, and once more entered the
river.
1t was, indeed, a watery cork screw, mar
wv Win DIOduJ GRASSY Intervals.
We had wound through about two miles
and Harvey was again in the midst of story
about 'black fox he'd shot at Loon Lake
onst," when he suddenly exclaimed clark %
at the same time stopping his paddle and rails.
ing his hand, while Phin rested on his oars,
and erected his head like listening hound.
After a silence of several moments | was
about to inquire what was the matter, when
there came distant below, sharp, ringing,
and, notwithstanding the distance, startling
Its from Mud Lake, sartain, said Harvey
dipping his paddle deep, while Phn did the
same with his oars. CHATS the moose all
over, and real bullmoose, too. Hooray wont
we hevsome fun bime-by and It's
"Too-roolIoo-roOl, loo-roo-oddy!
Let's make the Bluebird sing through the wa
ter, Phin, | really feel as eff we're goin' to
hev moose's lip Ter supper tonght-hey,
Mr.. Smith!"
l answered cheerfully, and then resigned
myself to my thoughts. There was some
thing solemn and exciting in thus winding
through the mnermost heart of this immense
wilderness, with the stern voice of the rare an
lmal in whose search we had come, still ring
ing in my ears. The wild, dark stream, the
awful sotude-all rendered the scene deeply
enthralling.
Proceeding some distance, we now reached
apavement of lily-pads, extending from bank
to bank. Pushing through these, a gloomy
sheet of water at length spread before us.
"Mud Lake" said Harvey i'll low voice
Don't make no noise. Praps a moose may
be tight agin us-who knows 2"
l didn't and kept perfectly quiet, gazing at
the scene
The sheet appeared to be about two miles
long, by a mile in width, with low shores of
broad marsh, Closed in by a thick barrier Of
frs and spruces. AT the LETT as we entered,
was a high point, or bluff, forming a small
bay.
Lily pads covered the lake, except toward
the head, where was a space of dark water.
over the whole brooded an air OF utter lone
illness, which, aided by the dull, heavy sky,
rested with depressing weight upon my spr.
its
lis lonesome kind o. place, as 1 telled
vel! said Harvey in a whisper, ceasing to
paddle, as did Phin to row, "that is, as fur
menklnd goes, but not deer" pointing to where
the broad margin was cut up by the sharp,
delicate feet Of these creatures "And yes,
by goliy, see there there's a dozen tracks or
more OF moose. It's goin' to be good night
for tioatln'. But come Phin, make smudge
while git out some sticks Tor a fire, or Mr..
Smith'll be eat up sun with the flies and at-
ter that Wen bush up shanty, fur it may
rain in the night"
The smudge was indeed grateful, for every
inch of my hands and face seemed TO hold a
mosquito and nudge added But comforted
myself philosophically with the reflection,
while | was thus being set on fire by the in
fernal insects that the terrible black fly which
draws blood with every sting, was not also
maraudng. The golden days of June are
dimmed by his horrors bnt the sun of mid
July gives him his general quietus, although
he does not entirely disappear until the other
little pests of the forests vanish.
"Ive met with EN-" said Harvey, in an
swer to my question, "all long till cold wealth
er, with the other flies"
"Where on earth do they come from, Har
vey?" | asked, pantomming wildly in the
air.
"The black flies matches in rapids and swift
water, and also in yaller lily blossoms the
mitchets in fir and spruce trees, and the mus
cutters in swampa. But the Old Sanko uny
knows what the critters hatch at all fur - and
Harvey commenced, with Phn, making the
camp.
| sat on an old stump and watched the two.
A few hacks of Harvey's axe brought down a
maple, from which he detached the limbs. He
then divided the trunk into suitable logs, split
ting them for the campfire, which, with tho
aid of dry sticks strewed around, was soon
merrily blazing. Meanwhile, Phin had level
ed small hemlock and stripped its branches,
from which he cut with his wOod.knIie the
fringes for our beds. While one then planted
in front of smooth-faced rock two crotehed
poles, with cross stick, the other girdled
couple of spruces, and, by inserting his AK,
stripped lengths of the bark for the side and
roof In u brief time the shanty was com.
pleted.
"Qui.rr-rr.rr!" said Harvey, lighting his