Moose are notoriously slow to start when alarmed, provided they have not scented the hunter, and the one in question stood motionless until the sportsman had fired five shots at his inanimate target and had but one cartridge left in the magazine. Then the moose turned to escape, and, as luck would have it, dashed directly into the line of fire. The lawyer saw it, and with his sixth and last shot dropped the moose stone dead.
BULL MOOSE IN ALLAGASH STREAM.
(St. John Waters.)
Photographed from Life.
On another occasion, a sportsman, to show his contempt for Maine's prohibition law, got gloriously full every day before ten o'clock.
The guide left him in the canoe one afternoon while he went ashore to look for some game signs on a bog near at hand. As he was returning he saw a nice moose step out of cover within ridiculously easy rifle shot of the sportsman. The sportsman at once opened fire on the moose, but after many shots the animal trotted off, untouched.
"'T was this haway," said the bibulous hunter, in explaining his misses, "when that moose came out there was only one, all right enough, but when I cut loose with the old gun, blame if the moose didn't double up into two. I couldn't shoot both at once, and while I was pumping it into one the other got away. Mus' ha' been I shot at the wrong moose."
"You want to hear how my sports shoot?" said another native guide. "Well, I'll tell you a little story and then you can judge for yourself. I started out on the river one afternoon with a man from Boston, to look for moose. It was a nice, quiet afternoon, and a good one to get game. We dropped down stream with the current, and the first thing we knew there was a big bull moose right out in the centre of the stream, sousing his head under
BULL AND COW MOOSE.
Photographed from Life.