Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-02-23

that if he steps upon it his foot will sink in
through bark and wood and then his heart
would revolt at the saerilege.
No sound of mans work affronts his
ear. No sound at all is there except the
soft signing of the breeze through the pine
branches; and that is sweeter than the
music of a great cathedral. for he feels in his
inmost soul that this cathedral was built by
no contractor, but by great nature herself.
THE SOUND OF GAME.
Suddenly his thoughts came back. No,
he says, with smile, it was not q drum, it
is some old cock partridge, and he moves
cautiously in the direction of the mut1ed
sound. Soon he sees the bird, one of the
most beautiful to be found in the world,
walking up and down on a fallen tree, trail
ing his wings on the bark, with his tail
spread out like q fan, drumming like
soldier boy. He looks on In admiration,
but it is only for a moment. Dinner time
comes to his mind. Then shout, a whirr,
a shot, and the bird is picked up and put in
his big pocket
A little further on he hears soft whistle.
No man, he knows, ever whistled like that.
The whistler wears horns. Wetting his
finger and holding it up to learn the direc-
tion of the wind, he works himself along
until he gees a big buck bounding off
through the tree trunks. Now is the time
when his patience is tested. the chase may
last an hour, and it may last two days; but
it is never relInquished until the deer is
dead. Relentless as death the good hunter
never stops until he raises his rifle TO his
shoulder, stands like statue for the frac-
finn of eaoonI mills fri0Oar rushpS ahead
pulls out his hunting knife, slashes the soft
throat, wipes the knife and counts the
prongs on the antlers. Then, shOuldering
his prev, comes the trudge back to camp,
sometimes only short distance, sometimes
many weary miles.
HUNTING THE MOOSE.
In winter the great game is moose. The
hunter wears snow shoes and spends long,
but never weary, hours in racing over coun-
try, following the track left by the great
awkward beast that breaks through the snow
crust at every step. Soon the snow bears
drops of blood. for the sharp crust cuts the
delicate skin at every jump, and the hunter
knows that he will not have far to go before
he overtskes the biggest wild animal to be
found in America. When he does catch up
to his prey, then he needs steady nerves, for
the moose can make a mad rush and is the
most pitiless adversary known, but a good
aim, quick pull, and the chase is over.
The noblest game in the land has been
hunted and won. Perhaps ], 100 or POO
pounds of moose lie there in the place he
has stamped out in the snow. There are
stories of moose that weighed over a ton,
and it can be fairly said that they weigh as
much as horses. The biggest one known to
hunters tradition weighed 2,290 pounds,
but that was 40 years ago In the forests
northeast of the Rangely Lakes in Maine.
They are more scarce now and smaller.
Another great sport in winter is shooting
partridges in the birrh trees. They sit
upon the branches all the way up the tree,
and when the lowest one is shot the others
do not stir. Shoot but the topmost bird
first, so that it tumbles down through the
tree, and all the others will fly away So
quickly as to startle the tyro, who has seen
half a dozen birds shot out of the same
tree.
THE CoZY NORTHERN CAMP.
Then come the long evenings in camp; in
a camp OF fir boughs covered with snow
crust The snow is trampled down until it
is solid under foot; big stone fireplace is
made in the middle; the fir boughs, or per-
haps small fir trees with the boughs all
trimmed off from the side toward the camp,
are thrust into the snow all around, so that
they cover over a place big enough for the
party, and pine branches are laid over all.
Then the snow crust is broken of and laid
on top of the green tent until 1t is quite
covered in. Pine tips cover the floor, and
everything is as cozy as mind could wish.
There are only two openings; one is for the
smoke, and the other, stopped BY blanket,
is for door. Here from 4 o'clock in the
afternoon until in the evening hunters
and guides sit and smoke, sip the simple
punch and spin long yarns of successes in
the past. And all life seems hollow in COM
pRrison.
A LAND OF HOSPITALITY.
Too much cannot be said respecting the
hospitality and geniality of our Canadian
cousins. They are good nature personifed.
The little French hotels and the English
inns, which are fac SMILES of what you see
to-day in France and England, are so home
like and comfortable that you want to re-
main there forever. The meals served are
we'll cooked, palatable, wholesome and
cheap. The wines and liquors are ridicu-
lously cheap. The cigars, cigarettes and
tobacco are cheap. The service and attend
ance are invariably good. To anyone who