Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1898-11-05

from away off there on the hillside.
All, 1t is a bull moose, and he thinks he
is responding to the loving invitation
of a cow to come and make a social
visit and exchange cards. Little does
the smart old monster Of the wilder
ness understand that he Is being fooled
by an Indian, by whose side lies a
broker from Boston, armed with rife.
Again the guide lifts the birch bark to
his lips and signs. Again the silence is
broken by the crashing of branches
which are moved off the trees by the
antlers of the moose as he PUSHES head
long to greet the alleged COW. A few
moments pass in quiet-absolute quiet.
The wary old chap has grown sus-
picions. Then the guide resorts to
other tricks of his profession to reas-
sure the bull. The moose loses his
caution, thunders nearer and nearer to
you through the woods, until at last,
within range, You get fair sight Of
his huge body. Crack! Crack! Crack!
The monarch of the wilderness goes to
the ground with a smash of under
brush, and the game is yours truly, as
John l.. Sullivan would remark.
THE third way to hunt moose is to
wait until the snow is on the ground.
Starting out of camp the guide may go
straight to what is termed a yard"
that is space where the snow is all
tramped down by the big animals max
ing their winter home in one place and
there promenading for food and exer-
else. You are lucky indeed if you get
a shot on the spot.
More probably the guide will strike
| the tracks of a moose. He can tell by
| those tracks just about how recently
the moose passed that way. You fol-
low the trail. The Indian will point to
| the shoots of the new forest growth
| which have been gnawed off at the
| top by the game you are pursuing.
| otherwise the signs would be passed
unnoticed. More marks, unintelhgible
to the uninitiated, tell the guide that the
moose is now not far from the hunters.
by the way. the old bulls are as
shrewd and tricky as a three card
monte man. They travel for a time
with the wind blowing right into their
nostrils, then they swing aside and re-
trace their steps, but whenever they
| lie down to rest they turn their heads
once more to the breeze. Consequent
| ly, if an untutored sportsman from
Boston with gun should go into the
| woods alone he would be smelled out
| ignominious failure.
| 'The guide follows the tracks. His
quick eye tells him whether the moose
is near or afar. If he finds the trail
turns he follows it no longer, for his
game would get the odor of humanity
borne on the wind. Rather does he re-
turn a bit by the route he came and
then tramps off at right angles to ap-
proach his target from direction from
whence he cannot be smelt.
20, it's clever work!
| Once strike a comparatively fresh
lot of tracks and you can overtake the
object of your affection if you stick to
your task. Strange as it may seem, i
man can tire out a moose if he keeps
after him day after day for miles and,
with fair fortune, is bound finally to
find his mass of meat adorned with
branching antlers taking a rest in some
secluded spot beneath the trees"
Moose are fairly plentiful in Maine
| this season of 1898, and here's hoping
against hope that every sportsman and
sportswoman, the real estate promoter
with his $3.50 shooting iron, the ribbon
counter salesman with his black DOW
der and ancient muZzle loader, the
huntress in her bicycle skirt and the
girl who wears only boomers in the
society of the wilderness will each re-
turn to town with arms full of antlers
and big express bundles of fresh steak
| for breakfast.