_AN EXCITING MOOSE-HUNT._
1826.
An interesting group of gentlemen was seated round a table covered
with maps and papers in the dining-room of the Chief's house,
arranging plans for the building of the Rideau Canal. They had been
discussing for over an hour the relative merits of three different
points at which the canal should diverge from the Ottawa River.
[Illustration: COLONEL BY]
"Anyone with half an eye could see that there is but one spot where
the locks of the new canal should be constructed, and that is at
Rafting Bay, between Nepean Point and the Western Bluff," said a
soldierly-looking man, about five feet ten in height, with dark hair,
florid complexion, and portly form, who wore the uniform of an
officer. It was Colonel By, a Royal Engineer sent out by the British
Government to overlook the work of strengthening the military
defences of Canada. "The men who made the survey," he continued,
"did not count the cost of such works if constructed at the mouth of
the Rideau. Think of the height of it! We want a connecting point
with the Ottawa River which will be less steep and abrupt."
"In my opinion," said the Chief, "you should follow the natural
undulation between the Rideau and the Ottawa River above the
Chaudiere Falls, and surmount the cataract by locks, which could
easily be constructed on the south side of the river, as the north
side is not available owing to the existence of our lumber slides.
This would throw the upper Ottawa open for navigation."
"I assure your Excellency," said the Colonel, ignoring the suggestion
and addressing a dignified and thoughtful-looking man of courtly
manners, "there is but one place for the junction of the canal with
the Ottawa River, and that is the place I have designated. The cost
of constructing the connecting link for a mile southward to the
Rideau will be as nothing compared with the cost of building the
locks at the Rideau Falls."
"I am quite convinced that your conclusion is a sound one," said Lord
Dalhousie, "but I would like to have Colonel Durnford's opinion in
the matter."
"Since inspecting the proposed route this morning, gentlemen," said
the Colonel, "I quite agree with Colonel By, that the attempt to
construct locks at the mouth of the Rideau would be highly
undesirable; but that is not the only fault that I find with the
plans. The specifications provide for a canal which would be so
narrow as to be entirely unsuited for military service as well as for
the commercial requirements of the country. It would seem desirable,
therefore, that your Excellency should urge upon the War Department
the necessity of making the canal sufficiently wide to take vessels
from one hundred and ten to one hundred and thirty feet long and
forty to fifty feet wide and drawing eight feet of water."
"I agree with you," said Lord Dalhousie, "We are building for the
future of the country. Let us build well. What is the expenditure
of an additional amount of twenty or thirty thousand pounds to the
British Government when we consider the issues at stake?"*
* In the eyes of the parliamentarians of London, who knew nothing of
the country or the work, the sum seemed enormous. A Committee of the
House of Commons was appointed, before whom Colonel By was summoned.
The members treated him with scant courtesy, and no acknowledgment of
his valuable services to the Empire was made. Colonel Durnford,
R.E., an officer of unusually high character and great experience,
was treated in a manner ill-befitting his rank and services. The
only charge against him was that he had expended twenty-two thousand
pounds in excess of the parliamentary grant, a most trivial offence,
as he had been instructed "to proceed with all despatch consistent
with economy." Colonel By was deeply hurt by such criticisms, and
died a few years later from a disease directly attributable to the
unjust treatment he had received.--_Edwards._
Among other matters of importance discussed at the meeting was the
desirability of uniting the two sides of the river--the two
provinces--by a bridge. It was finally decided to call for tenders
the following day, when the formal ceremony of turning the first sod
in the building of the canal would be performed by Lord Dalhousie.
The visitors had accepted the invitation of the Chief to go on a
moose-hunting expedition up the Gatineau. It was early morning in
the first week of October when a party of eight left for Bearie's
farm on the banks of the Gatineau. As they drove through the orchard
which sloped gently eastward to the creek below, the trees presented
an unusually gay appearance bending under their weight of mellow
apples, some of crimson and some of a rich golden hue.
Following the Columbia road through groves of brilliant maple and
sombre pine, they arrived in due time on the banks of the river
opposite an island, where men, canoes, and provisions were waiting
for them. Their destination was the vicinity of a large cave at
Wakefield, sometimes called the "mammoth cave," where they had
arranged to camp for several days.
The party consisted of Lord Dalhousie, Colonel By, Colonel Durnford,
the Chief, Bearie, Christie, a Frenchman named Joe Leclaire, an Irish
cook named Michael O'Flanagan, and Ephraim Meyers, a Yankee, who had
the reputation of being the best shot in the settlement.
The Governor was the life of the party, and related many amusing
incidents connected with his varied experiences in the wilds of
Canada, which kept the men in good-humor, notwithstanding the
numerous and difficult portages.
On reaching the camp-ground all hands were soon at work pitching
tents, building a fire and attending to other necessary preparations;
after which they sat round the fire while Michael prepared the
evening meal.
"Well, Mike," said Colonel By, "what do you think of this country?
How does it compare with ould Oireland?"
"Och, sur," said Michael, respectfully touching his hat, "I niver
seed the loike. Them skeeters bates all that iver I seen--the
knaves!"--rubbing his hands and arms vigorously--"shure they drive me
narely mad. I niver shall forgit the furst time they swarumed around
me like a a swarum of bays, an' I tuk me blankits and ran down to the
river an' roulled mesilf up and went to shlape on the rocks. Well,
sur, d'ye think they'd lave a poor crathure alone? Not thim, the
brutes! Shure as you're alive, sur, they came out with their
lanterns an' ye'd see a flash here and a flash there; an' kill 'em?
ye moight as well try to kill the divil himsilf, for soon as I could
get nare them, out would go their light, an' they'd all cum buzzin'
round tazin' and tormintin' me.
"Sez I to mesilf, 'Begorra, whin I get yez I'll finish yez; so I
will, begorra, I will.' Well, sur, I'm tellin' yez the truth whin I
say that they began pipin' out: 'Begorra! begorra! begorra!' and
their mates cried out, 'Ye will? Ye will? Ye will?' till I cud
shtand it no longer, so I put for the shanty as quick as me two legs
could carry me."
By this time all the men round the camp-fire were in fits of
laughter, in which the Irishman joined heartily. His superstitious
dread of 'skeeters,' was modified when they explained to him that
fire-flies, frogs and tree-crickets had contributed each a share to
the tragic drama.
"Could you not give us a few suggestions which will assist us in
becoming successful moose-hunters?" said Lord Dalhousie, addressing
Meyers, who stood bare-headed, sheltering with his hat a faint
flickering flame on a piece of "punk," which had been kindled by a
tiny spark from his flint and steel, while he tried to light his pipe.
"Wal," he said, "I reckon there's only two ways to shoot a moose: one
is to coax him within range by imitating the call of his mate; the
other way is to make a salt lick for him. At this time of the year
the buck begins to harden his horns, and he lies on the sides of the
hills in the sun and rubs his horns against the bushes to get off the
bark or velvety skin. If you want to get a crack at him you'll have
to be mighty sly and keep to leeward of him, for if the wind blows
from you to him he will scent you. Always hunt against the wind, and
when you sight one aim at the knee of the fore-leg. Then raise the
muzzle slowly until you sight the body following up the leg. Don't
hold your breath or it will make you tremble. Breathe freely until
you are ready to pull the trigger."
Meyers paused for a moment to take a few whiffs from his pipe.
"What do you mean by a salt lick?" asked Colonel By, who sat with his
back securely gummed to the trunk of a spruce tree, with both hands
thrust into his pocket.
"It's just an easy way of gettin' a shot at a deer," replied Meyers.
"You choose a place where he'll be likely to pass, and put some salt
in the hollow of an old log, or in a hole near the foot of a tree.
Then you climb the tree and sit there and wait, and when the deer
comes to lick the salt you may safely unhitch the contents of your
rifle, for they rarely observe anything higher than their heads."
"There is one important fact which applies not only to moose-hunting
but also to hunting in general, and which should not be forgotten,"
said Bearie, who lay full length on his blanket with his chin resting
on his hands. "Never go to see what you have shot without first
reloading your gun. The animal may not be badly wounded, and may run
away or may attack you."
"If you happen to get sight of a buck, a doe and a fawn together, for
they generally keep together at this time of the year," said Meyers,
"aim at the doe first, for the buck and the fawn will both stay
round; then aim at the buck, and you will probably secure all three."
Several days passed. The party had not sighted anything in the way
of large game, though they had discovered numerous evidences that the
neighborhood was frequented by moose.
One evening they had all returned to the camp save Colonel Durnford
and Christie. Overcome by their exertions, the remainder of the
party, with the exception of the Chief, had retired early and slept
heavily. A low moaning wind had arisen and was sobbing round the
camp.
"What was that?" said the Chief, rousing Bearie, who was on his feet
in a moment. "It sounded like a shriek, followed by a strange laugh,
like the laugh of a maniac. Colonel Durnford and Christie have not
returned yet, and I fear something has happened."
They listened intently. Nothing could be heard but the wind
whistling through the half-naked branches of the trees and rustling
the dead leaves that covered the ground. The moon fell in slanting
rays across the Laurentian hills. Dark clouds were hurrying up from
the horizon, and soon the whole scene was plunged in darkness.
"Hush! there it is again," said the Chief, in a state of breathless
expectancy. "It seems to be coming nearer. Could either of them
have met with an accident, I wonder?"
Rousing the others, they seized their guns and followed the narrow
path along the bank of the river in the direction whence the sound
seemed to come. All was darkness--utter darkness. Suddenly there
was a wild scream from the forest on the opposite bank. Its echoes
had hardly ceased when it was answered by a similar cry from the
trees above, followed by the same strange laugh. It proved to be the
voice of the white-headed eagle calling to his mate.
What had become of Christie and the Colonel was the question which
perplexed the mind of every man in the party. They called and called
again, but there was no answer. They penetrated into the woods with
lighted torches, but could find no trace of them. They discharged an
old Queen Anne gun, which had the reputation of making the loudest
report of any of the firearms in their possession, but there was no
response.
At the first glimmer of daylight they organized a search-party, but
not until late in the afternoon was suspense relieved by the return
of the missing pair to the camp.
"We must have walked five miles," said the Colonel, "following the
course of a small stream. On ascending a low hill we looked
cautiously over its crest. Before us was a scene I shall never
forget. Several huge animals were standing within range under a
clump of willows, nibbling at their twigs. The tall, broad,
palm-like antlers that rose from the head of one of them, the immense
size and ungainly forms, the long legs and ass-like ears, the immense
heads with overhanging lips, the short necks with their standing
manes, left no doubt in my mind that they were moose, for I had never
before seen one. They were all of a dark brown color, almost
blackish in the distance, the large one being darker than the others.
"Christie handed me the gun, motioning me to move quietly. I must
have lost my head, for all the first principles of moose-hunting
slipped out of my mind, as I aimed at the high shoulders of the old
bull, hoping to secure his antlers as a trophy. When I fired the doe
and the fawn scrambled down hill towards the beaver-meadow below. I
could see that the bull was not with them, and concluded that he was
dead. Rushing forward without reloading my gun, to my great
astonishment I found him on his knees, wounded. As soon as he saw me
he rose to his full height, his eyes flashing fire, and lowering his
horns in a forward position, he sprang at me. Dropping my gun I
stepped behind a huge beech tree, the moose following close upon my
heels. I had just time to get behind it when he rushed past, tearing
the bark with his antlers. He turned and made another charge, only
to find that I was in a safe position on the opposite side of the
tree. Rushing up to the tree he struck it furiously with his horns,
then with his hoofs, uttering loud snorts that were enough to
intimidate even a military man. The disappointment which the enraged
animal felt at seeing my escape added to his rage, and he vented his
spite upon the tree until the trunk, to the height of six feet, was
completely stripped of its bark. While this was going on I remained
behind the tree, dodging round, always taking care to keep the
infuriated brute on the opposite side. For over an hour this lasted.
I was beginning to feel faint with fatigue. I could see that the
bullet had hit the left shoulder, and, after tearing the skin, had
glanced off."
[Illustration: "I remained behind the tree, dodging round."]
"Where was Christie all the time?" interrupted the Chief. "Why did
he not secure the gun?"
"On seeing the encounter I climbed a tree," said Christie. "It was
the only thing I could do. I could not get hold of the gun, for it
was under the feet of the moose. I could not have reached the
ammunition, because the Colonel had it."
"I must admit," said Colonel Durnford, "that I began to feel serious
alarm. Any attempt on Christie's part to have approached me would
have imperilled his life and mine, too. I began to realize the
necessity for action, and so did Christie, and he called to me to
escape to the nearest tree with branches sufficiently low to be
easily climbed. Suddenly I caught sight of a spruce a few yards off,
and waiting for the moose to work round to a favorable position, I
sprang towards it and sheltered myself behind it. I laid hold
quickly of an overhanging branch and swung myself up to a safe place
on a strong limb of the tree. The moose arrived a second later,
snorting furiously, and began to attack the tree, as he had the
other, with hoofs and horns. He kept it up till darkness came on,
then quietly took up a position at the foot of the tree, from which
he hardly stirred all night long."
"What a night!" exclaimed Christie. "Will you ever forget it,
Colonel? How the wolves howled! A whole pack of them scented us.
Once or twice the moon shone out, revealing their gaunt, shadowy
forms and flashing eyes. It was enough to make one's hair stand on
end. So bitter and penetrating was the night wind that it had a
paralyzing effect upon us both. Before morning came we had decided
upon a plan. We knew the wolves would give us no trouble, for they
always disappear with daylight, so we arranged to have the Colonel
engage the attention of the moose while I should attempt to secure
the gun, which still lay at the foot of the beech tree; and that I
should manoeuvre with the moose while the Colonel approached as near
as possible and flung to me the ammunition. The scheme worked
admirably. I was able, after several unsuccessful attempts, for the
powder was not quite dry, to send a bullet through his heart."
After a hearty meal Christie undertook to guide Meyers and Joe to the
spot where the body of the moose lay, for they were detailed to guard
it from the wolves and to bring it down the creek in a canoe the next
morning.
Fortune seemed to turn in favor of the hunters, for a young fawn fell
a victim to a well-directed bullet from Lord Dalhousie's gun next
morning, and another was secured by the Chief.
Moose-hunting was not the only form of entertainment provided for the
party. The old country visitors took a keen delight in drawing from
the men stories of their adventures in the new world, which were
mainly true, and were given in their own dialect.
One evening, as the shadows of darkness were creeping on and all were
gathered round the camp-fire, the Chief said:
"Come, now, Joe, we want you to tell the gentlemen a story."
Seated on a log, dangling his legs, was the diminutive Frenchman,
with coarse gray homespun shirt and knitted tuque drawn down to his
ears, which stuck out almost at right angles from the head. He
glanced at the Governor, and then at the red-coated officers, with
evident dread and apprehension.
"Now, Leclaire," said the Chief, "don't be afraid. Tell your bear
story."
Slowly removing his tuque, "Little Joe," as he was familiarly called,
began to scratch his head thoughtfully as if to rake up
reminiscences. Suddenly his sickly, pock-pitted face lighted up and
his black eyes indicated that he had succeeded in scratching up
something to tell about.
"Wan tam," he said, "when we work on de Got-no, I cut de whood, me,
pour mak le souper, an' when I go back le shaintee--sacré bleu!--wan
beeg bear she am got her head in de soup-pot. I trow down de whood
an' run, me, for shure, lak wan wile moose. De bear she am skeart,
an' she run, too. Le pot she steek on, too, lac wan blak hat.
Dunno, me, how she fine le reever, but she run, and she sweem wit dat
black pot till she reach the odder shore. Me an' de boss we tak le
canot an' de gun pour chasser le bear an' we fine de pot, but we no
see de bear."
"Bravo! old man; that's not bad," said Lord Dalhousie.
"Your turn now, Ephraim," said the Chief, addressing Meyers, who,
ignoring the remark, went on smoking. There was an embarrassing
silence as all eyes rested on the withered-looking face of the
Yankee, who was evidently not ready with his contribution to the
entertainment of the evening.
"Tell us about the squaw you found in the woods," suggested Christie.
"Wal," he said, "onct upon a time when we were runnin' the fifth
concession line with Theodore Davis, we found an ole squaw who had
been deserted by her children and left to find her way to Davy
Jones's locker as best she could. Her poor ole body was bent almost
double. She seemed very weak. Her only clothing was rabbit-skins
sewed together with sinews, with the hair side next her skin. She
mumbled a lot of things which we could not understand. D'ye mind
Brown, the feller with the squaw wife?" he said, addressing the
chief. "Wal, he told us that she lived on hares which she snared
with sinews, an' that she lived alone an kep' herself from freezin'
in winter by settin' fire to the end of a fallen log, and as the
ashes cooled enough she would scoop out a nest to lie in. As the log
burned she would follow the warm ashes an' move her nest closer to
the fire, an' when one log was burned she would kindle another. She
managed in this way to keep body and soul together for years alone in
the forest."
"Is that true?" asked Colonel By, "or is it one of your Yankee yarns?"
"I reckon ye can fine out for yourself," retorted Meyers.
"It is quite true," said Bearie. "I have never seen her, but I know
several who have."
"Now, Michael, you told us a good story the other night. Could you
not tell us another before we roll ourselves up in our blankets?"
said the Governor.
"Faith, an it's tirrible sorry I am that I'm not used to public
shpaking, fur I cud tell yer Honor about Shparks an' the bear."
"The best way to become a public speaker, Mike," said Lord Dalhousie,
"is to have something to say, and just say it, so tell us your story."
"Me and Shparks wuz in the blacksmith shop when Joe Wyman, the young
shpalpeen, sez he, 'There's a bear in the river beyant.'
"'Come on, byes,' sez Mr. Rug, 'we'll foller him up,' sez he. He
took down the gun that hung on the wall forninst him, an I tuk a
hand-shpike forninst me, an Shparks he went out forninst the
blacksmith shop an filled the inside of his shirt wid shtones,
regardliss of shape or forrum; an', yer Honor," he said, touching his
hat, "before Shparks an' me cud raitch the shore Mr. Rug was in the
canoe. We cud see the great brute swimmin' to the island, an' we put
after him as quick as iver we cud, but before we cud raitch him he
had consailed himsilf. We spint two hours in searching for the
brute, an' Shparks, who is a very obsarvant man, sez he, 'Begorra!
there he is, as sure as a gun, makin' shtraight for the cliff.'
"'Come on, byes,' sez Mr. Rug, 'we'll get aven wid the crayture yet.'
"Shparks was feelin' pious-like, for it was Good Friday, an he didn't
feel like fightin' bears nor min. Sez he, 'Let the poor brute go
home to her cubs.'
"'Niver a bit of it,' said Mr. Rug, 'we'll not lit her go till she's
kilt.' An' with that he put after the bear as fast as he cud. When
we were not twinty yards from the baste, Mr. Rug, he aimed at the
bear, but Shparks moved, an' the bullet went whizzin' into the water.
Then Shparks he began a-peltin' him wid shtones, so he did, which
made the poor baste so mad that he wheeled round an' was makin'
shtraight for the canoe, when I up wid the handshpike to bate him,
while Mr. Rug was loadin' his gun. Well, yer Honor, it's tirrible
sorry I am to be tellin' yez that I upset the canoe, an' me an'
Shparks an' the bear wuz all strugglin' in the ragin', foamin' deep.
"'Holy angels!' sez I, 'save me! save me!' The current was so
shtrong that it carried me to the little island forninst the cliff,
an' it was mesilf that was glad when I was washed on a rock near the
shore. Mr. Rug an' Shparks they clung to the canoe an' drifted down
to the shores of the cliff which the bear wuz engaged in ascendin'.
"'What's that,' sez I to mesilf, 'comin' across the river? It's a
boat,' sez mesilf to me, 'wid the Chief and Mr. Brigham.' Soon they
had reached the other shore, an' two bullets from their guns brought
the poor crayture tumblin' to the bottom."
The weather turned exceedingly cold and wet, and as camping was no
longer desirable, the party packed up their things and left. They
had not gone many miles on their return trip when the leading canoe
scraped a rock. Water poured in so quickly that the crew, consisting
of the two officers, with Bearie and Joe, had to swim ashore towing
the wreck behind them. Joe was sent to the woods to gather spruce
gum and birch bark, while the other three tried to kindle a fire.
After much difficulty they succeeded in securing light rotten wood
from the inside of a hollow tree, sufficiently dry to retain sparks
from a flint, and in a short time three half-frozen men stood
steaming before a huge fire. After two hours of fruitless search,
the Frenchman returned unable to procure any birch bark, but with a
quantity of gum, which he scraped into a small iron kettle, together
with a small quantity of fat, and suspended it over the fire.
"Now we are in a dilemma," said Colonel By. "What shall we do
without bark? Shall we have to go the rest of the way on foot?"
"Not while there is a homespun shirt around," replied Bearie, who was
busily engaged in cutting off part of his shirt-sleeve. The piece
was soon smeared with melted gum and fastened securely over the hole,
and in a few minutes the frail bark was skipping from wave to wave on
the bosom of the mountain torrent till it reached the Gatineau farm.