While crossing the marshy bottom through which our road led, a singular
hoof-track was observed in the mud. Some were of opinion that it was a
track of the great moose-deer, but the hunter-naturalist, better
informed, scouted the idea--declaring that moose never ranged, so far to
the south. It was no doubt a very large elk that had made the track,
and to this conclusion all at length came.
The great moose-deer, however, was an interesting theme, and we rode
along conversing upon it.
The moose (_Cervus alces_) is the largest of the deer kind. The male is
ordinarily as large as a mule; specimens have been killed of still
greater dimensions. One that has been measured stood seventeen bands,
and weighed 1200 pounds; it was consequently larger than most horses.
The females are considerably smaller than the males.
The colour of the moose, like that of other animals of the deer kind,
varies with the season; it varies also with the sex. The male is
tawny-brown over the back, sides, head, and thighs; this changes to a
darker hue in winter, and in very old animals it is nearly black; hence
the name "black elk," which is given in some districts to the moose.
The under parts of the body are light-coloured, with a tinge of yellow
or soiled white.
The female is of a sandy-brown colour above, and beneath almost white.
The calves are sandy-brown, but never spotted, as are the fawns of the
common deer.
The moose is no other than the elk of Northern Europe; but the elk of
America (_Cervus Canadensis_), as already stated, is altogether a
different animal. These two species may be mistaken for each other, in
the season when their antlers are young, or in the velvet; then they are
not unlike to a superficial observer. But the animals are rarely
confounded--only the names. The American elk is not found indigenous in
the eastern hemisphere, although he is the ornament of many a lordly
park.
The identity of the moose with the European elk is a fact that leads to
curious considerations. A similar identity exists between the caribou
of Canada and the reindeer of Northern Europe--they are both the _Cervus
tarandus_ of Pliny. So also with the polar hear of both hemispheres,
the arctic, fox, and several other animals. Hence we infer, that there
existed at some period either a land connection, or some other means of
communication, between the northern parts of both continents.
Besides being the largest, the moose is certainly the most ungraceful of
the deer family. His head is long, out of all proportion; so, too, are
his legs; while his neck is short in an inverse ratio. His ears are
nearly a foot in length, asinine, broad, and slouching; his eyes are
small; and his muzzle square, with a deep _sulcus_ in the middle, which
gives it the appearance of being bifid. The upper lip overhangs the
under by several inches, and is highly prehensile. A long tuft of
coarse hair grows out of an excrescence on the throat, in the angle
between the head and neck. This tuft is observed both in the male and
female, though only when full-grown. In the young, the excrescence is
naked.
An erect mane, somewhat resembling that of a cropped Shetland pony, runs
from the base of the horns over the withers, and some way down the back.
This adds to the stiff and ungainly appearance of the animal.
The horns of the moose are a striking characteristic: they are palmated
or flattened out like shovels, while along the edge rise the points or
antlers. The width from horn to horn at their tops is often more than
four feet, and the breadth of a single one, antlers included, is
frequently above thirty inches. A single pair has been known to weigh
as much as 60 pounds avoirdupois!
Of course this stupendous head-dress gives the moose quite an imposing
appearance; and it is one of the wonders of the naturalist what can be
its object.
The horns are found only on the males, and attain their full size only
when these have reached their seventh year. In the yearlings appear two
knobs, about an inch in length; in two-year-olds, these knobs have
become spikes a foot high; in the third year they begin to palmate, and
antlers rise along their edges; and so on, until the seventh year, when
they become fully developed. They are annually caducous, however, as
with the common deer, so that these immense appendages are the growth of
a few weeks!
The haunts and habits of the moose differ materially from those of other
deer. He cannot browse upon level ground without kneeling or widening
his legs to a great extent: this difficulty arises from the extreme
length of his legs, and the shortness of his neck. He can do better
upon the sides of steep hills, and he is often seen in such places
grazing _upward_.
Grass, however, is not his favourite food: he prefers the twigs and
leaves of trees--such as birch, willow, and maple. There is one species
of the last of which he is extremely fond; it is that known as striped
maple (_Acer striatum_), or, in the language of hunters, "moose-wood."
He peels off the bark from old trees of this sort, and feeds upon it, as
well as upon several species of mosses with which the arctic regions
abound. It will be seen that in these respects he resembles the
giraffe: he may be regarded as the giraffe of the frigid zone.
The moose loves the forest; he is rarely found in the open ground--on
the prairie, never.
On open level ground, he is easily overtaken by the hunter, as he makes
but a poor run in such a situation. His feet are tender, and his wind
short; besides, as we have already said, he cannot browse there without
great inconvenience. He keeps in the thick forest and the impenetrable
swamp, where he finds the food most to his liking.
In summer, he takes to the water, wading into lakes and rivers, and
frequently swimming across both. This habit renders him at that season
an easy prey to his enemies, the Indian hunters, for in the water he is
easily killed. Nevertheless, he loves to bury himself in the water,
because along the shores of lakes and margins of rivers he finds the
tall reed-grass, and the pond-lily--the latter a particular favourite
with him. In this way, too, he rids himself of the biting gnats and
stinging mosquitoes that swarm there; and also cools his blood, fevered
by parasites, larvae, and the hot sun.
The female moose produces one, two, and sometimes three calves at a
birth; this is in April or May. The period of gestation is nine-months.
During the summer, they are seen in families--that is, a bull, a cow,
and two calves. Sometimes the group includes three or four cows; but
this is rare.
Occasionally, when the winter comes on, several of these family parties
unite, and form herds of many individuals. When the snow is deep, one
of these herds will tread down a space of several acres, in which they
will be found browsing on the bark and twigs of the trees. A place of
this sort is termed by the hunters a "moose-yard;" and in such a
situation the animals become an easy prey. They are shot down on the
spot, and those that attempt to escape through the deep snow are
overtaken and brought to bay by dogs. This can only happen, however,
when the snow is deep and crusted with frost; otherwise, the hunters and
their dogs, as well as their heavier game, would sink in it. When the
snow is of old standing, it becomes icy on the surface through the heat
of the sun, rain, and frost; then it will bear the hunter, but not the
deer. The latter break through it, and as these animals are
tender-hoofed, they are lacerated at every jump. They soon feel the
pain, give up the attempt to escape, and come to bay.
It is dangerous for dogs to approach them when in this mood. They
strike with the hoofs of their forefeet, a single blow of which often
knocks the breath out of the stoutest deer-hound. There are many
records of hunters having been sacrificed in a similar manner.
Where the moose are plentiful, the Indians hunt them by pounding. This
is done simply by inclosing a large tract of woods, with a funnel-shaped
entrance leading into the inclosure. The wide mouth of the entrance
embraces a path which the deer habitually take; upon this they are
driven by the Indians, deployed in a wide curve, until they enter the
funnel, and the pound itself. Here there are nooses set, in which many
are snared, while others are shot down by the hunters who follow. This
method is more frequently employed with the caribou, which are much
smaller, and more gregarious than the moose-deer.
We have already said that the moose are easily captured in summer, when
they resort to the lakes and rivers to wade and swim. The biting of
gnats and mosquitoes renders them less fearful of the approach of man.
The Indians then attack them in their canoes, and either shoot or spear
them while paddling alongside.
They are much less dangerous to assail in this way than the elk or even
the common deer (_Cervus Virginianus_), as the latter, when brought in
contact with the frail birch-canoe, often kick up in such a manner as to
upset it, or break a hole through its side. On the contrary, the moose
is frequently caught by the antlers while swimming, and in this way
carried alongside without either difficulty or danger.
Although in such situations these huge creatures are easily captured, it
is far otherwise as a general rule. Indeed, few animals are more shy
than the moose. Its sight is acute; so, too, with its sense of smell;
but that organ in which it chiefly confides is the ear. It can hear the
slightest noise to a great distance; and the hunter's foot among the
dead leaves, or upon the frozen snow-crust, often betrays him long
before he can creep within range. They are, however, frequently killed
by the solitary hunter stealing upon them, or "approaching," as it is
termed. To do this, it is absolutely necessary to keep to leeward of
them, else the wind would carry to their quick ears even the cautious
tread of the Indian hunter.
There is one other method of hunting the moose often practised by the
Indians--that is, trailing them with _rackets_, or snow-shoes, and
running them down. As I had partaken of this sport I was able to give
an account of it to my companions.
"In the winter of 18--, I had occasion to visit a friend who lived in
the northern part of the state of Maine. My friend was a backwood
settler; dwelt in a comfortable log-house; raised corn, cattle, and
hogs; and for the rest, amused himself occasionally with a hunt in the
neighbouring woods. This he could do without going far from home, as
the great forests of pine, birch, and maple trees on all sides
surrounded his solitary clearing, and his nearest neighbour was about
twenty miles off. Literally, my friend lived in the woods, and the
sports of the chase were with him almost a necessity; at all events,
they were an everyday occupation.
"Up to the time of my visit, I had never seen a moose, except in
museums. I had never been so far north upon the American Continent; and
it must be remembered, that the geographical range of the moose is
confined altogether to the cold countries. It is only in the extreme
northern parts of the United States that he appears at all. Canada,
with the vast territories of the Hudson's Bay Company, even to the
shores of the Arctic Sea, is the proper _habitat_ of this animal.
"I was familiar with bears; cougars I had killed; elk and fallow deer I
had driven; 'coons and 'possums I had treed; in short, I had been on
hunting terms with almost every game in America except the moose. I was
most eager, therefore, to have a shot at one of these creatures, and I
well remember the delight I experienced when my friend informed me there
were moose in the adjacent woods.
"On the day after my arrival, we set forth in search of them, each armed
with a hunting-knife and a heavy deer-gun. We went afoot; we could not
go otherwise, as the snow lay to the depth of a yard, and a horse would
have plunged through it with difficulty. It was an old snow, moreover,
thickly crusted, and would have maimed our horses in a few minutes. We,
with our broad rackets, could easily skim along without sinking below
the surface.
"I know not whether you have ever seen a pair of rackets, or Indian
snow-shoes, but their description is easy. You have seen the rackets
used in ball-play. Well, now, fancy a hoop, not of circular form, but
forced into an elongated pointed ellipse, very much after the shape of
the impression that a capsized boat would make in snow; fancy this about
three feet long, and a foot across at its widest, closely netted over
with gut or deer-thong, with bars in the middle to rest the foot upon,
and a small hole to allow play to the toes, and you will have some idea
of a snow-shoe. Two of these--right and left--make a pair. They are
simply strapped on to your boots, and then their broad surface sustains
you, even when the snow is comparatively soft, but perfectly when it is
frozen.
"Thus equipped, my friend and I set out _a pied_, followed by a couple
of stout deer-hounds. We made directly for a part of the woods where it
was known to my friend that the striped maple grew in great plenty. It
has been stated already, that the moose are particularly fond of these
trees, and there we would be most likely to fall in with them.
"The striped maple is a beautiful deciduous little tree or shrub,
growing to the height of a dozen feet or so in its natural _habitat_.
When cultivated, it often reaches thirty feet. There is one at
Schonbrunn, near Vienna, forty feet high, but this is an exception, and
is the largest known. The usual height is ten or twelve feet, and it is
more often the underwood of the forest than the forest itself. When
thus situated, under the shade of loftier trees, it degenerates almost
to the character of a shrub.
"The trunk and branches of the striped maple are covered with a smooth
green bark, longitudinally marked with light and dark stripes, by which
the tree is easily distinguished from others, and from which it takes
its name. It has other trivial names in different parts of the country.
In New York state, it is called `dogwood;' but improperly so, as the
real dogwood (_Cornus florida_) is a very different tree. It is known
also as `false dogwood,' and `snake-barked maple.' The name
`moose-wood' is common among the hunters and frontiers-men for reasons
already given. Where the striped maple is indigenous, it is one of the
first productions that announces the approach of spring. Its buds and
leaves, when beginning to unfold, are of a roseate hue, and soon change
to a yellowish green; the leaves are thick, cordate, rounded at the
base, with three sharp lobes at the other extremity, and finely
serrated. They are usually four or five inches in length and breadth.
The tree flowers in May and June, and its flowers are yellow-green,
grouped on long peduncles. The fruit, like all other maples, consists
of _samarae_ or `keys;' it is produced in great abundance, and is ripe
in September or October.
"The wood is white and finely grained; it is sometimes used by
cabinet-makers as a substitute for holly, in forming the lines with
which they inlay mahogany.
"In Canada, and those parts of the United States where it grows in great
plenty, the farmers in spring turn out their cattle and horses to feed
upon its leaves and young shoots, of which these animals are extremely
fond; the more so, as it is only in very cold regions that it grows, and
the budding of its foliage even precedes the springing of the grass.
Such is the tree which forms the favourite browsing of the moose.
"To return to my narrative.
"After we had shuffled about two miles over the snow, my friend and I
entered a tract of heavy timber, where the striped maple formed the
underwood. It did not grow regularly, but in copses or small thickets.
We had already started some small game, but declined following it, as we
were bent only on a moose-chase.
"We soon fell in with signs that indicated the propinquity of the
animals we were in search of. In several of the thickets, the maples
were stripped of their twigs and bark, but this had been done previous
to the falling of the snow. As yet, there were no tracks: we were not
long, however, before this welcome indication was met with. On crossing
a glade where there was but little snow, the prints of a great split
hoof were seen, which my friend at once pronounced to be those of the
moose.
"We followed this trail for some distance, until it led into deeper snow
and a more retired part of the forest. The tracks were evidently fresh
ones, and those, as my friend asserted, of an old bull.
"Half-a-mile farther on, they were joined by others; and the trail
became a broken path through the deep snow, as if it had been made by
farm-cattle following each other in single file. Four moose had passed,
as my friend--skilled in woodcraft--confidently asserted, although I
could not have told that from the appearance of the trail. He went
still farther in his `reckoning,' and stated that they were a bull, a
cow, and two nine-months' calves.
"`You shall soon see,' he said, perceiving that I was somewhat
incredulous. `Look here!' he continued, bending down and pressing the
broken snow with his fingers; `they are quite fresh--made within the
hour. Speak low--the cattle can't be far off. Yonder, as I live!
yonder they are--hush!'
"My friend, as he spoke, pointed to a thicket about three hundred yards
distant; I looked in that direction, but at first could perceive nothing
more than the thickly-growing branches of the maples.
"After a moment, however, I could trace among the twigs the long dark
outlines of a strange animal's back, with a huge pair of palmated horns
rising above the underwood. It was the bull-moose--there was no
mistaking him for any other creature. Near him other forms--three of
them--were visible: these were of smaller stature, and I could see that
they were hornless. They were the cow and calves; and the herd was made
up, as my companion had foretold, of these four individuals.
"We had halted on the moment, each of us holding one of the dogs, and
endeavouring to quiet them, as they already scented the game. We soon
saw that it was of no use remaining where we were, as the herd was fully
three hundred yards from us, far beyond the reach of even our heavy
deer-guns.
"It would be of no use either to attempt stealing forward. There was no
cover that would effectually conceal us, for the timber around was not
large, and we could not, therefore, make shift with the tree-trunks.
"There was no other mode, then, but to let the dogs free of their
leashes, and dash right forward. We knew we should not get a shot until
after a run; but this would not be long, thought we, as the snow was in
perfect order for our purpose.
"Our dogs were therefore unleashed, and went off with a simultaneous
`gowl,' while my friend and I followed as fast as we could.
"The first note of the deer-hounds was a signal for the herd, and we
could hear their huge bodies crashing through the underwood, as they
started away.
"They ran across some open ground, evidently with the intention of
gaining the heavy timber beyond. On this ground there was but little
snow; and as we came out through the thicket we had a full view of the
noble game. The old bull was in the lead, followed by the others in a
string. I observed that none of them galloped--a gait they rarely
practise--but all went in a shambling trot, which, however, was a very
fast one, equal to the speed of a horse. They carried their heads
horizontally, with their muzzles directed forward, while the huge
antlers of the bull leaned back upon his shoulders as he ran. Another
peculiarity that struck me--the divisions of their great split hoofs, as
they lifted them from the ground, met with a cracking sound, like the
bursting of percussion-caps; and the four together rattled as they ran,
as though a string of Christmas crackers had been touched off. I have
often heard a similar cracking from the hoofs of farm-cattle; but with
so many hoofs together, keeping up the fire incessantly, it produced a
very odd impression upon me.
"In a short time they were out of sight, but we could hear the baying of
the dogs as the latter closed upon them, and we followed, guided by the
trail they had made.
"We had skated along for nearly a mile, when the howl of the hounds
began to sound through the woods with more abrupt and fiercer echoes.
We knew by this that the moose had been brought to bay, and we hurried
forward, eager to have a shot.
"On arriving at the place, we found that only the old bull had made
stand, and he was successfully engaged in keeping off the dogs, both
with feet and horns. The others had gone forward, and were out of view.
"The bull, on seeing us approach, once more took the trot, and, followed
by the dogs, was soon out of sight.
"On reaching the spot where he had made his temporary halt, we found
that his trail there parted from that of the other three, as he had
taken almost an opposite direction. Whether he had done so
considerately, in order to lead the dogs away from his weaker
companions, I know not; perhaps our sudden appearance had terrified him
into confusion, and he had struck out without looking before him.
"We did not reflect on these points at the time. My friend, who
probably was thinking more about the meat than the sport, without
halting a moment, followed the trail of the cow and calves; while I,
guided by different motives, took after the bull. I was in too great a
hurry to heed some admonitions which were given by my friend as we
parted company. As our trails separated, I heard him shouting to me to
mind what I was about; but the courses we followed soon carried us
beyond earshot or sight of each other.
"I followed the chase about half a mile farther, guided by the tracks,
as well as by the baying of the hounds. Again this assumed the fierce
angry tone that denoted a battle going on between the dogs and the deer.
"As I neared the spot, the voices of the former seemed to grow feebler;
then there was a continued howling, as if the hounds were being roughly
handled, and one of them I noticed was altogether silent.
"On arriving on the scene, which I did soon after, I learned the cause
of this change of tune. One of the dogs met me running back on the
trail on three legs only, and woefully mangled. The moose was standing
in a snow-pit, which had been trodden out by the animals while battling,
and near his feet lay the other dog, mutilated in a most fearful manner,
and evidently quite dead. The bull, in his rage, still continued to
assail the dead body of the hound, rising and pouncing down upon it with
his fore-hoofs until the ribs cracked under the concussion!
"On seeing me, he again struck into the snow, and made off; I saw,
however, that his limbs were much lacerated by the frozen crust, and
that he ran slowly, leaving red tracks behind him.
"I did not stop by the dogs--one being dead, and the survivor but little
better--but kept on after the game.
"We had now got into a tract where the snow lay of more than usual
depth, and my snow-shoes enabled me to skim along faster than the moose
himself, that I could easily perceive was growing feebler at every
plunge. I saw that I was gaining upon him, and would soon be alongside.
The woods through which we were passing were pretty open, and I could
note every movement of the chase.
"I had got within a hundred yards of him, and was thinking of firing at
him as he ran, when all at once he came to a stop, and wheeling suddenly
round, stood facing me. His huge antlers were thrown back until they
touched his withers; his mane stood erect; all the hair upon his body
seemed to bristle forward; and his whole attitude was one of rage and
defiance: he was altogether as formidable-looking an enemy as it had
ever been my lot to encounter.
"My first thought, on getting near enough, was to raise my rifle and
fire, which I did. I aimed for his chest, that was fair before me; but
I shot wide, partly because my fingers were numbed with cold, and partly
because the sun at the moment flashed in my eyes as I glanced along the
barrel. I hit the moose, however, but in a part that was not mortal--in
the shoulder.
"The shot enraged him, and without waiting for me to re-load, he dashed
madly forward and towards me; a few plunges brought him up, and I had no
resource but to get behind a tree.
"Fortunately there were some large pines in the neighbourhood, and
behind one of these I took shelter--not, however, before the enraged
animal had almost impaled me upon his antlers. As I slipped behind the
trunk, he was following me so close that his horns came in contact with
the tree, causing it to vibrate by the terrific shock. He himself drew
back a pace or two, and then stopped and stood fast, eyeing the tree
with sullen rage; his eyes glared, and his long stiff hair seemed to
quiver as he threatened.
"In the hope that he would allow me time, I again bethought me of
re-loading my gun. What was my chagrin to find that I had not a grain
of powder about me! My friend and I had started with but one
powder-flask, and that he had carried with him. My gun was as useless
as a bar of iron.
"What was to be done? I dared not, approach the bull with my knife: my
life would not have been worth five minutes' purchase. His horns and
great sharp hoofs were weapons superior to mine. He might throw me down
at the first outset, gore me to death, or trample me in the snow. I
dared not risk such an encounter.
"After reflecting for some time, I concluded that it would be wiser for
me to leave the moose where he was, and take the back track without him.
But how was I to get away from the spot? I was still behind the tree,
and the enraged bull was within three feet of it on the other side,
without showing any symptoms of retiring. Should I step either to one
side or the other, he would launch himself upon me, and the result would
be my certain destruction.
"I now began to perceive that I was in a fix--regularly `treed,' in
fact; and the knowledge was anything but cheering. I did not know how
long I might be kept so; perhaps the moose might not leave me at all, or
until hunger had done its work. The wound I had given him had certainly
rendered him desperate and vengeful, and he appeared as if determined to
protract the siege indefinitely.
"After remaining nearly an hour in this situation, I began to grow angry
and impatient. I had shouted to frighten the bull, but to no purpose; I
had shouted, and at the top of my voice, in hopes that I might be heard
by my friend, but there was no response except the echoes of my own
voice borne hoarsely through the aisles of the winter forest. I grew
impatient of my odd captivity, and determined to stand it no longer.
"On stealing a glance behind me, I perceived a tree as large as the one
which sheltered me. I resolved to make for that one, as it would at
least not render my situation worse should I reach it in safety. This I
effected, but not without having my speed put to the test, for the moose
followed so close as almost to touch me with his brow-antlers. Once
behind this new tree, I was no better off than before, except that it
brought me some twenty paces nearer home. The moose--still stood in
front of me only a few feet distant, and threatening as fiercely as
ever.
"After waiting some minutes for my breath, I selected a third tree in
the right direction, and made for it in a similar manner, the moose
following as before.
"Another rest and another run brought me behind a fresh tree, and
another and another, until I must have made a full mile through the
woods, still followed by my implacable and untiring enemy. I knew,
however, that I was going homeward, for I guided myself by the trail
which we had made in the chase.
"I was in hopes that I might make the whole back-journey in this way,
when all at once I perceived that the heavy timber came to an end, and a
wide, almost open tract intersected the country, over this the trees
were small stunted pines, far apart, and offering no hope of shelter
from my relentless persecutor.
"I had no alternative now but to remain where I was, and await the
arrival of my friend, who, I presumed, would come after me as soon as he
had finished his own hunt.
"With this dubious hope, I kept my stand, although I was ready to drop
with fatigue. To add to my misery, it commenced snowing. I saw this
with feelings akin to terror, for I knew that the snow would soon blind
the trail; and how, then, was my friend to follow it, and find me? The
bull still stood before me in the same threatening attitude,
occasionally snorting, striking the ground with his hoofs, and ready to
spring after me whenever I should move. Ever as I changed the attitude
of my body, he would start forward again, until I could almost touch him
with the muzzle of my gun.
"These manoeuvres on his part suggested to me an experiment, and I
wondered that I had not thought of it before. I was not long in
resolving to carry it out. I was armed with a stout hunting-knife, a
bowie; it was pointed as sharp as a needle; and could I only have
ventured near enough to the bull, I would soon have settled the dispute
with him. The idea now occurred to me of converting my bowie into a
lance by splicing it upon the barrel of my gun. With this I had hopes
of being able to reach my powerful assailant without coming within range
either of his hoofs or horns.
"The lance was soon made, a pair of buckskin gaiters which I wore
furnished me with thongs. My gun happened to be a long rifle; and the
knife, spliced firmly to the muzzle, rendered it a formidable weapon, so
that in a few minutes I stood in a better attitude than I had assumed
for hours before.
"The affair soon came to an issue. As I had anticipated, by showing
myself a little to one side of the tree, the bull sprang forward, and I
was enabled, by a dexterous thrust, to plant the knife between his ribs.
It entered his heart, and the next moment I saw him rolling over, and
kicking the crimsoned snow around him in the struggles of death.
"I had scarcely completed my victory, when a loud whoop sounded in my
ears, and looking up, I saw my friend making towards me across the open
ground. He had completed his chase, having killed all three, cut them
up, and hung their meat upon the trees, to be sent for on our return to
the house.
"By his aid the bull was disposed of in a similar manner; and being now
satisfied with our day's sport--though my friend very much regretted the
loss of his fine dog--we commenced shuffling homeward."