In the Nova Scotia "Silent Places": My First Moose Hunt (1908)
For a number of years one of my pet schemes had been along the lines of a moose hunt. I had never seen the "Monarch" of our forest in his native element. The tales of different successful sportsmen had ever thrilled me and set up the insistent call known only to him who has revelled in the glories of the wild places and learned to give the lust to kill second place. My wife and mother, both lovers of nature and keenly interested in my plans, presented me with a fine 33-Winchester for a Christmas gift.
The very next day my close companion, Charles M. Hoyt, and myself started for the south woods to the home of Glen Gillies, our guide, to enjoy two or three days in camp before the season ended. The sleighing was superb and we arrived at our destination at a seasonable hour, after a full enjoyment of one of the finest moonlight drives in the woods either of us had ever experienced. Our guide's house is the one furthest south in the settlement, and is right in the game zone, it being no uncommon sight to see moose on the edge of the clearing, a few rods from the house, in the summer.
Next morning bright and early we set out, our guide carrying on his back a tent seven by nine, collapsible stove, blanket, axe, rifle etc., while Charlie and I carried grub, blankets, ammunition, etc , in back packs specially for this purpose. In this way each man can carry a heavy load and yet not feel it much. Our costume consisted of a suit of heavy wool underwear, loose riding breeches buttoning almost to the ankle, two pairs wool hose, short, under oil tanned larrigans, half length, heavy wool sweater, wool cap and loose woolen jacket—the idea being that everything must be loose, warm and comfortable. The snow was about two feet deep and thus our snowshoes came in very handy.
Our route was towards the Randolph Lake, about five miles, and as most of this lay along a tote road the way was fairly clear of snags. When we arrived at our destination we soon cleared a space, by means of our snowshoes sufficiently large enough for us to pitch our tent. After our strenuous exercise we enjoyed our dinner and then set out for some old "yards" in the hope of discovering fresh trails. Before long the snow came down thick and fast and ere we reached the camp our muscles were smarting under the strain. For the rest of the day and evening we sat around the fire, smoked and swapped yarns while the storm outside increased in fury to a hurricane.
When we awoke in the morning we found the little tent almost submerged in snow and as there was no chance to hunt we lay in camp till the time came for us to start out, planning, in the meantime while enjoying the novelty of a camp under the snow, a trip for the following fall.
Throughout the year we kept hard at it, but when at last the autumn frosts turned the leaves to red and gold, and old Dame Nature donned her night cap, that inexpressible longing for the woods kept creeping over us, and we began opening up the "togs" and getting things in shape. Monday, November thirteenth, was the day chosen for our departure, and as it dawned fine and beautiful we soon loaded our two weeks' food, ammunition, rifles, guns, extra underwear and the other extras always needed, into Charlie's express wagon and started out, Will accompanying us in order to bring back the team.
As we were rigged in our hunting togs we felt as comfortable as we looked and the drive out was all too short. However that drive made us as hungry as bears and we did full justice to the very appetizing repast Mrs. Gillies placed before us. Willie started for home with the team shortly afterwards, and as Gillies was still in the woods and not expected out till dark we decided to go back with the wagon a piece and hunt ruffed grouse, which we did with indifferent success.
A few days before Gillies had taken our tent and some stuff out and had them all ready so that between us we were able to pack all the provisions, blankets, etc., on the one trip.
Tuesday morning found us up at an early hour putting the finishing touches on our packs and seeing everything in shape to set out. After a heavy breakfast we shouldered our loads and started on our journey to the tent, which was about eight miles south of us. Part of this tramp was on an old tote road, but the greater part lay through ragged, uneven, rough ground where stepping from windfall to hollow soon made a forty pound sack weigh a ton. However the holiday ahead of us, together with the excitement caused by the novelty of the occasion, made the work seem fun and the trip was made in very good time.
Our first move was to put up the tent and get everything trim and in ship shape after which came the first dinner in camp—an experience all its own. After dinner and a pipe we made a long circle for moose signs, but without success.
On our way home we passed the Randolph meadow, where we found Williams and Shipp comfortably placed in a brush "lean to." They had not seen any fresh signs either. We drank in the beauty of the forest the rest of the way back to camp, and after supper kept our pipes hot till bedtime, feeling as contented and "comfy" as a clear conscience, a full stomach, and high expectations would allow.
In the night it froze quite hard, making walking very noisy so that had we found likely trails, hunting, except on barrens, was out of the question. We scouted about and on our return found that Williams and Shipp had called and finding us not at home had left their card— a boot box coyer on which was drawn a very unflattering picture of a moose at which two men were shooting, but the men must have had a drink of bog water for they looked more likely to shoot each other than the moose.
On Wednesday night it began to rain, continuing to increase all night till on Thursday it was pouring. We were, however, too full of the hunting instinct to allow a downpour to keep us in, and accordingly we took a long tramp south to Medchin Camp, down Randolph to Mistake Lake, eastward to Randolph Lake, northward up Croker Lakes, where we found fresh tracks, but joined by men's tracks a little further on. We then struck straight back for camp, the entire tramp being about twenty-five miles, for twenty-four and seven-eighths of which we were drenched to the skin. We soon had a good fire going when we stripped to our underclothes and hung our wet duds to the ridge pole to dry.
On Friday the rain continued and we took a run northward to the Shippland, where we found fresh signs. While following this trail we were startled by a rifle shot a few rods to our right, and while backing out for fear of getting shot ourselves we heard something moving through the bushes not far from us. Subsequent investigations showed that a moose had passed within twenty-five yards of us.
Gillies started to the house for a pack of apples, while we picked our way to the camp, visiting some rabbit snares we had set on our way out. We had rabbit fried in butter for tea. Gillies got into camp with the apples about the time we were drying off well. Did these apples taste good? Just try them under similar circumstances and you will know.
On Friday we were almost burned out. The heat from the stove had so thoroughly dried out the moss and fir in the tent that in the middle of the night the whole of it burst into flames. There was some lively scrambling for a time, but fortunately we succeeded in killing the fire, and after airing the tent succeeded in getting some sleep before it was time to turn out.
Saturday opened clear and fine and quite frosty, and while we found fresh bear and moose tracks we saw no game. About half past three in the afternoon we heard three shots in succession and then a fourth—which we learned afterwards were fired by Williams, who succeeded in getting a nice young bull.
By this time we found that parties were camped all around us so we decided to break up camp, go to the house for Sunday, and on Monday strike away southeast beyond all the other parties. In accordance with this program we made our way to the house, not reaching it till after dark and spent Sunday in rest and quietude.
On Monday morning, as we had planned, we struck out, going first to Bear Lake near which we had our dinner. Just south of this we struck very fresh signs and after a hard stalk through as rough a part of the country as is to be found anywhere, we had the melancholy satisfaction of hearing three moose start—one of them a large bull. We had not made any noise and knew that the moose had not winded us. When we made a large circle and started them again we knew that they had caught our scent and made for the home.
Both on Monday and Tuesday the frost made tramping too noisy for hunting, so we decided not to go after moose, but contented ourselves with trying for ruffed grouse near the house, with the result that we had a nice bunch of these choice birds to show for our day's work.
On Tuesday evening Gillies' brother, who is also a guide, came into camp and as our time was now limited we decided to go out the following day in two parties and take our chances. When we turned out on Wednesday morning we found no change in the weather conditions but proceeded to carry out our plans as arranged. The two Charlies started out together and I entrusted myself to the guidance of Glen Gillies. We were fully determined to make this our "red letter day" as to sport. We joined forces as far as the meadow, when the two Charlies started for Lake Alma, and we for Mud Lake, but afterwards proceeded to Lake Alma, where it was arranged we should meet for dinner.
We crossed Mud Lake on the ice, then through to Lake of Five Hardwood Hills finding plenty of signs, but none that were fresh. About eleven o'clock, we heard a moose running, and strange to say it was in our direction. A moment later Gillies threw his rifle to his shoulder scoring a beautiful miss. I did not see anything.
A few minutes later we heard shots and a shout. Knowing the voices we hurried over and found that Charley had secured a beautiful five year old bull and missed another by striking too high on the shoulder. All hands joined in the work of skinning, cleaning and trussing up the meat till we could get back to tote it to the nearest road. Here we had dinner and a smoke, and all hands being full of exhilaration we much enjoyed our interval.
Again we divided our forces, the two Charlies going south to Lake Alma road and Gillies and I west by north to the same road. While leaving a low swamp for higher ground we found some fresh signs and at Once took up the trail, working very slowly and carefully over hemlock hills, swamps, hardwood ridges etc. until we turned up to cross a hardwood hill.
About half way over this hill, and at a time when we were making a good deal more noise in the dead leaves than we wished I saw a dark mass to my left and below us. Before I could quite make up my mind as to what this mass was a commotion, and instantly the mass resolved itself into three running moose. In less time than it takes to tell I had dropped on one knee and got three shots after the last animal, the third striking the flank hard enough to swing the moose a little to the right, presenting a quivering shot, while the fourth hit fair in the engine room—ripping lungs and liver to shreds and barely missing the heart. The moose was down and out inside of two minutes. The two moose seemed dazed when their companion fell and both stopped and looked back for a few minutes, presenting excellent shots. As they had no antlers worth possessing we did not molest them and they soon ambled away. The Charlies heard our shots and in answer to them were soon on the spot, helping us to fix our meat. It is needless to say that congratulations and handshakes were the order of the occasion and the health of our lordly moose was drank with zeal. The shortest trail was taken for home, where we arrived about dark, tired but very exultant men.
All Thursday was spent in hunting to the east of Bear Lake, but throughout the whole day we did not get a shot. On this occasion we came upon the track of the largest footed moose any of us had ever met, but try as we would we could not come up to the maker of those footprints and had at length to relinquish the attempt.
Friday was given up to taking the meat out. An ox team was sent in on the Lake Alma road and we went ahead to carry it out to this road. Gillies got turned around and led us, an unholy dance, through a big dirty alder swamp, nearly ruining temper, muscle, clothes and everything else. When we did get to the meat we made pretty quick work of carrying it out, and were ready for the team before it reached us. The work practically occupied us the whole day, only leaving us time to hunt a few grouse.
Finally, to close our holiday, we decided to walk home, and though it was a long tramp we managed it well, arriving there some three hours before the heavy load of meat, hides and camp truck came along. Seeing us arrive in this way, unencumbered, our families concluded that we had returned empty handed. When the team reached town and they learned that as a result of our prowess there was a whole moose ready for the larder of each family, the scene changed. From depression to exultation appeared easy and the scene that followed can be better imagined than described.
All the meat we could use fresh was so used and after drying some of the round we corned the rest. This gave us all the meat we needed for the winter, and dried or corned moose is simply delicious.
The tramping and outdoor life did wonders for us, and for months afterwards we felt the good of it. In the fortnight in the woods we walked over three hundred miles, coming home with muscles as hard as iron and with appetites improved beyond all recognition.
The shanks of our moose hides we converted into moccasins for our next excursion in the woods, the hides adorn the floors of our homes, and the antlers support rods, guns and other things dear to the heart of a sportsman.
At the end of May we spent ten days fishing in the same district, and in addition to securing a fine string of trout we visited the scene of our last fall sport and picked out the location of our camp for next autumn. If we are spared and circumstances will allow we mean to have a trip of the same kind as that we enjoyed so much last year.
--- Rod and Gun in Canada, Volume 9, Number 9, February 1908: p. 834 ---
