A Strange Moose Hunt

BY

HENRY WILLIAM DAWSON

 Some years ago, while living in Canada, in a village situated on the bank of a large river, I was a spectator of a moose hunt of a most novel and exciting character.

That you may the better understand what I am going to relate I will first introduce you to our village Nimrod.

As his real name is no concern of ours I will here give him his popular nickname of 'Ramrod,' a name by which he was well known not only in our village but for a considerable distance around. It was conferred upon him, I suppose, because he walked so upright and stiff, and also perhaps because he at one time had worn the Queen's uniform.

A queer old stick was Ramrod. He knew a little of most mechanical things and was for ever tinkering at something or other, useful or otherwise as the case might be. He could also 'doctor' a sick cow or dog, and was even known to have successfully set the broken leg of an old and combative rooster.

His mechanical turn of mind was continually leading him to the construction of the most wonderful arrangements of wood and iron ever seen. In fact, his operations in this direction were only held in check by one want, but that a great one, namely, the want of a sufficiency of cash.

A Mystery

Now for the greater part of one spring Ramrod had shut himself up in his woodshed, and there he was heard busy with hammer and saw all day long, except when called forth by the tinkle of the little bell attached to the door of his shop, where almost anything might have been purchased.

Many were the guesses as to 'what can Ramrod be up to now?' And often did we boys try to catch a glimpse of what was going on within that mysterious shed; but in vain. Ramrod seemed to be always on the alert, and the instant an intrusive boy's head appeared above the first dusty pane of the small window by which the shed was lighted, it was greeted with a fierce and harsh gar-r-ar-r-r, often accompanied with a dash of cold water, which the old fellow always seemed to have in readiness.

But one day as a lot of youngsters were down on the river bank preparing for an early swim they were startled by the advent of another lad, who, with scared looks and awful voice, declared that Ramrod was 'making his own coffin,' and that he, the boy, had seen it with his own eyes.

The rumour spread, and many were the visits paid that afternoon to the little shop by the river.

But Ramrod kept his secret well, and baffled curiosity had to return as wise as it came. Ramrod was determined that his work should not be criticised until completed. He had evidently heard the saying that 'women, children, and fools should not be allowed to see a thing until finished.'

At last one day the great work was completed, and turned out to be, not a coffin, but what the happy builder called a boat. But to call it a boat was a misnomer, for the thing was to be propelled not by oars but by a paddle.

And certainly through all the ages since the construction of the ark of Noah was never such a boat as this. It would be impossible to convey in words a true idea of what the craft was like. Perhaps to take an ordinary boat, give it a square stern, a flat bottom without a keel, and straight sides tapering to a point at the bow, would give an approximate idea of what the thing actually was, and also how difficult to navigate.

The winter had been unusually uneventful. Nothing had happened to break the cold monotony of our village life, so that when one day an excited and panting individual rushed up the river bank screaming out 'A moose, a moose in the river!' it was only natural that we should all be thrown into a state of ferment.

Some who possessed firearms rushed off to get them out, while others ran along the bank seeking a boat.

As, however, the ice having only just 'run,' the boats and punts ordinarily fringing the river were still all up in the various barns and sheds where they had been stowed at the close of navigation, their efforts were in vain, and they could only stand fuming and casting longing eyes at the now retreating moose.

For of course the animal had turned as soon as he perceived the hubbub which his appearance under such unusual circumstances had created. Instead, therefore, of crossing the river, it now made for an island which was about half a mile out in the stream.

It had a good distance to swim, however, before it could accomplish that, and in the meantime preparations were being made a short way up the river which promised serious trouble for Mr. Moose.

Of course, you may be sure that Ramrod had caught the excitement with the rest of us, and was equally desirous of the capture of the moose. But he was a modest man and would let others have a chance first.

After a little while, though, when it became evident that unless something was done pretty soon the moose would escape, it was noticed that he became graver, and that his face wore a puzzled look of uncertainty.

Ramrod's 'Coffin'

All at once, however, the doubt vanished, and Ramrod started off towards his house as fast as his long stiff legs would carry him.

When he emerged he bore in one hand an ordinary rope halter, with a noose at one end, just such a halter as was used by all the farmers for securing their horses to their stalls. In his other hand was a paddle, and with these harmless-looking implements he was about to start in chase of the moose.

Quickly proceeding to the river bank, he drew out from beneath a clump of bushes the 'coffin,' and, unheeding alike the warnings of the elders and derisive shouts of the youngsters, elicited by the appearance of his curious-looking craft, he knelt down in the stern and set out on his perilous adventure.

But he had not gone far before it was seen that something was wrong.

The boat had a will of its own, and that will was evidently exerted in direct opposition to the will of its owner.

It went, but how? No schoolboy ever drew a truer circle with a bit of string and a slate-pencil than that cranky craft made on the placid surface of the river each time Ramrod put a little extra strength into his stroke.

At last, however, the gallant boatman managed to make headway, and, aided by the current, he now rapidly approached the moose, which was considerably distressed by the great length of its swim.

But the instant the animal became aware that it was being pursued, it redoubled its efforts to gain the island, which was not very distant. And this it would have succeeded in doing had it not been for the almost herculean exertions of Ramrod, by which it was eventually headed up stream again.

And now a stern chase up and down and across the river ensued. It really did not last long, though it seemed hours to us who were watching from the bank.

Just as Ramrod thought he had made sure of the moose this time, and dropping his paddle would seize the halter to throw over the head of the animal, the latter would make a sudden turn, and before the baffled hunter could regain command of his boat, would be well on his way down stream again.

All this time the crowd collected on the bank were greatly concerned about Ramrod's safety.

They saw, what he did not, that the affair would end in his getting a ducking at the very least. But worse than that was feared, as, once overturned, the miserable conception of a boat would be beyond the power of any one in the water to right it again. And, moreover, the water was still intensely cold, and a very few minutes would have sufficed to give the cramp to a much stronger man than Ramrod.

Perceiving all this, some of the more energetic had from the first bestirred themselves in preparations for launching a boat.

But this occupied some time, for, as I have said, the boats usually to be seen fringing the bank during the summer months had not yet made their appearance. Oars also and tholepins had to be hunted up, and by the time all this was accomplished the need of help out there on the river was very urgent indeed.

Plenty of pluck had Ramrod, or he would have given up the chase when he found himself becoming so exhausted, by the tremendous exertion necessary to keep control of his cranky craft, that he had scarcely sufficient strength left to follow the deer in its many dodges and turnings.

But strong as the moose was, its time had come. Suddenly the animal stopped, gave a scream that made the blood curdle in all our veins, and would have sunk out of sight only that, with a last desperate effort, Ramrod got up with it, and this time succeeded in throwing the halter over its head and drawing the noose tight.

An Upset

Thoroughly exhausted as the moose appeared to be, this act of Ramrod's roused it to make one more effort for life and freedom. Turning quickly about and snorting furiously, it made for its assailant, and before Ramrod could check it had capsized the boat and sent that worthy head over heels into the water.

Presence of mind is a splendid quality, and Ramrod possessed it to the full. Retaining his hold of the halter, he endeavoured to right the boat, but soon perceiving the impossibility of so doing, he relinquished the attempt, and being a good swimmer, boldly struck out for the island, that being the nearest land.

Refreshed by his involuntary bath, and not yet feeling the effects of the cold, Ramrod made no doubt but that he should easily accomplish the task.

As for the moose, it was completely done up, and was now no more trouble than a log of wood. The effort by which it had overturned the boat was the last it made, and its captor was now quietly towing it ashore.

But cold water does not agree with all constitutions, especially if the body has been fatigued and heated before its application.

Cramp seized upon poor Ramrod, and though he made a gallant and desperate struggle to reach land with the aid of his arms alone, he felt that only by a miracle could he do so.

Moment by moment he felt himself growing weaker and less able to withstand the chill which was striking through to his very heart.

At last the supreme moment came. He could go no farther. Brave and collected to the last, he raised his eyes to heaven as in thought he commended his soul to his Maker.

At that instant the sound of oars struck his ear, and the hope it brought him gave him sufficient strength to keep up until a friendly hand grasped him under the arm.

With his last little bit of strength he raised his hand, still grasping the halter, and smiled triumphantly; then he lost consciousness.

The 'coffin' was brought ashore afterwards, but no one had the hardihood to navigate it. Even towing it was a trial of temper, for it kept swinging from side to side with a heavy jerking motion with every pull at the oars.

Ramrod, I am glad to say, lived to have many a quiet paddle in his queer boat whenever he went a-fishing; and this, it appears, was all he intended it for when he built it.

Thus ended this famous moose hunt, but the talk of it lasted for many a year; and whenever a pleasure-party were out on the river enjoying a sail by moonlight, this was the one story that was never stale, and mention of 'Ramrod's coffin' would cause a smile to appear on the face of even the most grave.

The moose, when brought ashore, proved to be quite young, though full-grown, as its horns were not much more than 'buds.'