Beautiful Joe [72]
branching antlers, and
shoulders standing higher than a horse's. Their legs are so long that they can't
eat close to the ground. They browse on the tops of plants, and the tender
shoots and leaves of trees. They walk among the thick underbrush, carrying their
horns adroitly to prevent their catching in the branches, and they step so well,
and aim so true, that you'll scarcely hear a twig fall as they go.
"They're a timid creature except at times. Then they'll attack with hoofs and
antlers whatever comes in their way. They hate mosquitoes, and when they're
tormented by them it's just as well to be careful about approaching them. Like
all other creatures, the Lord has put into them a wonderful amount of sense, and
when a female moose has her one or two fawns she goes into the deepest part of
the forest, or swims to islands in large lakes, till they are able to look out
for themselves.
"Well, we used to like to catch a moose, and we had different ways of doing it.
One way was to snare them. We'd make a loop in a rope and hide it on the ground
under the dead leaves in one of their paths. This was connected with a young
sapling whose top was bent down. When the moose stepped on the loop it would
release the sapling, and up it would bound, catching him by the leg. These
snares were always set deep in the woods, and we couldn't visit them very often;
Sometimes the moose would be there for days, raging and tearing around, and
scratching the skin off his legs. That was cruel. I wouldn't catch a moose in
that way now for a hundred dollars.
"Another way was to hunt them on snow shoes with dogs. In February and March the
snow was deep, and would carry men and dogs. Moose don't go together in herds.
In the summer they wander about over the forest, and in the autumn they come
together in small groups, and select a hundred or two of acres where there is
plenty of heavy undergrowth, and to which they usually confine themselves. They
do this so that their tracks won't tell their enemies where they are.
"Any of these places where there were several moose we called a moose yard. We
went through the woods till we got on to the tracks of some of the animals
belonging to it, then the dogs smelled them and went ahead to start them. If I
shut my eyes now I can see one of our moose hunts. The moose running and
plunging through the snow crust, and occasionally rising up and striking at the
dogs that hang on to his bleeding flanks and legs. The hunters' rifles going
crack, crack, crack, sometimes killing or wounding dogs as well as moose. That,
too, was cruel.
"Two other ways we had of hunting moose: Calling and stalking. The calling was
done in this way: We took a bit of birch bark and rolled it up in the shape of a
horn. We took this horn and started out, either on a bright moonlight night, or
just at evening, or early in the morning. The man who carried the horn hid
himself, and then began to make a lowing sound like a female moose. He had to do
it pretty well to deceive them. Away in the distance some moose would hear it,
and with answering grunts would start off to come to it. If a young male moose
was coming, he'd mind his steps, I can assure you, on account of fear of the old
ones; but if it was an old fellow, you'd hear him stepping out bravely and
rapping his horns against the trees, and plunging into any water that came in
his way. When he got pretty near, he'd stop to listen, and then the caller had
to be very careful and put his trumpet down close to the ground, so as to make a
lower sound. If the moose felt doubtful he'd turn; if not, he'd come on, and
unlucky for him if he did, for he got a warm reception, either from the rifles
in our hands as we lay hid near the caller, or from some of the party stationed
at a distance.
"In stalking, we crept on them the way a cat creeps on a mouse. In the daytime a
moose is usually lying down. We'd find their tracks and places where they'd been
nipping off the ends of branches and twigs,
shoulders standing higher than a horse's. Their legs are so long that they can't
eat close to the ground. They browse on the tops of plants, and the tender
shoots and leaves of trees. They walk among the thick underbrush, carrying their
horns adroitly to prevent their catching in the branches, and they step so well,
and aim so true, that you'll scarcely hear a twig fall as they go.
"They're a timid creature except at times. Then they'll attack with hoofs and
antlers whatever comes in their way. They hate mosquitoes, and when they're
tormented by them it's just as well to be careful about approaching them. Like
all other creatures, the Lord has put into them a wonderful amount of sense, and
when a female moose has her one or two fawns she goes into the deepest part of
the forest, or swims to islands in large lakes, till they are able to look out
for themselves.
"Well, we used to like to catch a moose, and we had different ways of doing it.
One way was to snare them. We'd make a loop in a rope and hide it on the ground
under the dead leaves in one of their paths. This was connected with a young
sapling whose top was bent down. When the moose stepped on the loop it would
release the sapling, and up it would bound, catching him by the leg. These
snares were always set deep in the woods, and we couldn't visit them very often;
Sometimes the moose would be there for days, raging and tearing around, and
scratching the skin off his legs. That was cruel. I wouldn't catch a moose in
that way now for a hundred dollars.
"Another way was to hunt them on snow shoes with dogs. In February and March the
snow was deep, and would carry men and dogs. Moose don't go together in herds.
In the summer they wander about over the forest, and in the autumn they come
together in small groups, and select a hundred or two of acres where there is
plenty of heavy undergrowth, and to which they usually confine themselves. They
do this so that their tracks won't tell their enemies where they are.
"Any of these places where there were several moose we called a moose yard. We
went through the woods till we got on to the tracks of some of the animals
belonging to it, then the dogs smelled them and went ahead to start them. If I
shut my eyes now I can see one of our moose hunts. The moose running and
plunging through the snow crust, and occasionally rising up and striking at the
dogs that hang on to his bleeding flanks and legs. The hunters' rifles going
crack, crack, crack, sometimes killing or wounding dogs as well as moose. That,
too, was cruel.
"Two other ways we had of hunting moose: Calling and stalking. The calling was
done in this way: We took a bit of birch bark and rolled it up in the shape of a
horn. We took this horn and started out, either on a bright moonlight night, or
just at evening, or early in the morning. The man who carried the horn hid
himself, and then began to make a lowing sound like a female moose. He had to do
it pretty well to deceive them. Away in the distance some moose would hear it,
and with answering grunts would start off to come to it. If a young male moose
was coming, he'd mind his steps, I can assure you, on account of fear of the old
ones; but if it was an old fellow, you'd hear him stepping out bravely and
rapping his horns against the trees, and plunging into any water that came in
his way. When he got pretty near, he'd stop to listen, and then the caller had
to be very careful and put his trumpet down close to the ground, so as to make a
lower sound. If the moose felt doubtful he'd turn; if not, he'd come on, and
unlucky for him if he did, for he got a warm reception, either from the rifles
in our hands as we lay hid near the caller, or from some of the party stationed
at a distance.
"In stalking, we crept on them the way a cat creeps on a mouse. In the daytime a
moose is usually lying down. We'd find their tracks and places where they'd been
nipping off the ends of branches and twigs,