F IFF ANT) NORTH SHORE {NAPOLEON A. COMEAU THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESENTED BY PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID / mall jltammate OME trappers claim that there are three varieties of marten on the North Shore of the St. Lawrence. First, the pine marten, found in the heavily wooded sections, secondly the rock marten, found in hilly and rocky country with stunted growth of trees, and lastly the swamp marten, inhabiting lowlands and marshes and short black spruce country. I must confess that I could never see any difference in them, except sometimes in the color of the fur, those caught in the low, swampy places being, as a rule, lighter in color than the others, though I do not think this enough to justify a distinction of species. In any case, I will leave this question open, as for present purposes it makes no difference whether there be one or three species, as they are all trapped alike. To trap marten with success, one has to specially select the ground, viz, thick woods and heavy timber, such as spruce or bal- sam. This sort of growth will generally be found in the bottoms of foothills of large streams or near large lakes. No other fur of any conse- quence will be found in such localities. The ground having been chosen, a path is blazed through the forest, and a line of traps built, MARTEN AND OTHER SMALL MAMMALS 77 generally about fifteen traps to the mile, until one has about four or five hundred traps. This is about as much as two men can keep in good order. There are many ways of building these marten traps, all depending upon the season and the duration of one's trapping. If a man wants to keep the same line of traps going for several sea- sons, he will make all his line of stump traps. These are built as follows : a large tree of ten inches or more in diameter is cut down, care being taken to have the cut level and deep enough from one side to reach within two inches of being cut clear through. Then from the opposite side mark a cut ten inches higher up on the tree. The latter then falls easily on the side of the big cut- ting, leaving a level stump with one projecting side. From the fallen tree small pieces resembl- ing shingles are split and sharpened at one end and driven into the stump so as to form a small enclosure of nine or ten inches deep and about seven wide. A small piece of wood is fitted in between the projection and the enclosure to hold the pin and latch bait holder. The strangling piece is then fitted over this, and a weight, a small log of wood put on the str angler. To set the trap, have a pin of three inches in length and half an inch thick; then a latch of eight inches long and of the same diameter as the pin. Fasten the bait to one end of the latch, then lift the 78 MARTEN AND OTHER SMALL MAMMALS strangling piece, insert the latch, place one end of the pin on it and the strangling piece rests on the other end, and your trap is ready. When an animal pulls on the baited latch the pin slips off and out, and the trap falls. This is on the figure of four principle, with only two pieces instead of three. The above kind of trap is generally built in mid-winter, and the stump cut three feet above snow level, so that it is scarcely ever out of order on account of being under the snow. A well built trap, such as here described, will last from ten to fifteen years. The principle for building on the ground or snow is exactly the same and for all small mammals is one of the best kind of dead falls. Steel traps, No. 1, the best, are often used and set in the same way. For bait, fish is much used, especially near the coast line. Long strips of dog fish flesh are often dried for this purpose, and it is very oily and tough and not liable to be eaten by vermin, mice, &c. When flesh is used for bait, hare and squirrel meat is preferred, being the natural food. Marten are not at all shy, and will frequently come near a camp, and even into it. I have caught several by leaving a baited steel trap inside of my camp when we had occasion to leave it. They are nocturnal in their habits, but now and then one is seen in the day time. Ermine are very often caught in marten traps, MARTEN AND OTHER SMALL MAMMALS 79 as they have very similar habits, and inhabit the same kind of country. Mink are often captured with the same kind of dead falls, but these must be set in the vicinity of water as much as possible. The inlet and outlet of small lakes are favorite places, and also where small streams meet larger ones, in fact, any place where small fish are to be found. Spawning beds of trout and salmon are very much fre- quented and great destruction caused on them. Although small animals, mink will chase and kill fish of twice their weight. They are very inquis- itive, and not at all shy, and will frequently come within a few feet of a person, if one keeps quiet. They are very often shot by trappers, but this is very wasteful, as the skin and fur is always more or less injured. Steel traps are pre- ferable to any others for trapping mink, as they can be set in, or very near to water, and when the animal is caught it drops into the water and is drowned immediately. In this way the fur is not damaged at all. ffiennant'g Jtlarten (jHugtella ffiemtanti) IMONG the fur-bearing animals that we also trapped was the above, or as sometimes call- ed "Fisher," though why he should be so called I cannot imagine, as I never saw nor heard of the animal catching any fish. I know, however, that he will eat fish, because we often had some of our mink and marten traps robbed by him of the fish bait. His natural food is meat, and when he can get it, chiefly that of the porcupine, of which he is the most deadly enemy. A very strange thing is that the porcupine quills do not seem to affect this animal at all. Some years after I be- gan trapping I caught a large fisher a male that I am sure had over two hundred quills in its body, without apparently suffering any incon- venience from them. I examined it carefully it appeared so extraordinary for signs of pus or swelling, but there was none. The animal was fat and in fine condition. I was not satisfied with this particular case, but resolved to con- tinue this examination with every specimen I should get hold of. Since that time I have trap- ped and shot about forty fishers, every one of which had quills in the body, but with no bad effect. I have occasionally related these facts to PENNANT'S MARTEN n some of my friends, but have always thought that I detected a smile, which seemed to say "This is a fish-(er) story." In order that these statements should be cor- roborated by a competent authority, I sent, many years ago, several specimens in the flesh to Dr. C. Hart Merriam, a celebrated naturalist, and to- day Chief of Biology, Smithsonian Institute, Washington, D.C.,, and he also, found the condi- tion above described.*. The animals are grega- rious in their migrations, but once located they are generally found singly. They prefer moun- tainous regions and gullies, with thickly wooded slopes, just such places as are usually preferred by porcupine. Prior to 1865, in the range of mountains known as the Ste. Anne Mountains, South Shore of the St. Lawrence, between Gaspe and the city of Rimouski, porcupines were found in abundance, and formed part of the winter supply of fresh meat to many of the scattered inhabitants of that region. One trapper and far- mer combined, named Dugas, told me that he fre- quently killed six or seven porcupines in a day's hunt, and from one hundred to one hundred and thirty in a season. In 1865 there was a migration of fisher into that region, and two years later all the porcupine had been exterminated. The very same thing had occurred on the North Shore in * See Mammals of the Adirondacks, Merriam 1884, page 49. 82 PENNANT'S MARTEN recent years. In my early days of trapping the capture of a fisher was rare, and I have known old trappers who had never seen the animal alive. At that time porcupines were found in great numbers, principally in that section of the coun- try east of the Manicouagan River to the head- waters of the Ste. Marguerite. I mention this fact from personal observation. It was no un- usual thing for an Indian family to capture from one hundred and fifty to two hundred porcupines in a winter. We could easily have done the same ourselves had we so desired, but as we generally had more meat than we could use we left them un- molested. I have crossed in one day's walking, over thirty fresh yards or winter quarters of the porcupine. A very low estimate of the numbers killed each year in the above limits would be about five or six thousand. This continued dur- ing the fifteen years that I trapped in that region and until about 1880, when a large migration of fisher occurred and the poor porcupine were doomed. In two years they were completely des- troyed. During these two years every trapper got a few fisher, some getting as many as ten or twelve in one season. I myself trapped eight one winter in this immediate vicinity, although I could only devote a small portion of my time to trapping. This abundance of fisher lasted only three seasons; after that they disappeared. Since PENNANT'S MARTEN 83 then only an accidental one is trapped. As for the porcupine, I suppose they will increase again in time, but for my part I have not seen one around here for some years. In 1897, I saw along the banks of the Big Romaine River in Labrador, two porcupine, which shows that there are still a few in that locality. Fishers are not shy or very wary of man, and they are easily trapped ; that it is to say, it is easy to get one in your trap, though it is hard to keep him in it. They are very powerful and active, closely resem- bling the carcajou in this respect, and once in the trap they work incessantly with claws and teeth, until they either cut their foot or drag the trap away. On two occasions I followed up a fisher many miles before overtaking him although ham- pered by a large steel trap and dragging chain. The only safe way to set steel traps for fisher is to have the chain secured to the end of a lifting pole. This must be balanced on a forked tree sufficiently high and strong enough to lift the ani- mal clear off the ground. Care must also be taken that no trees are left in the vicinity, or else tKe animal will climb them and get the pole down. Fish or meat of any kind will do for bait, but the most certain and deadly is a piece of por- cupine with the quills on, part of which have been singed in the fire. This will attract them for miles around. Some trappers prefer dead- 84 PENNANT'S MARTEN falls for catching fishers. When these are used they have to be made extra strong with a dead- weight on the strangling part, of at least two hundred pounds. Going through the woods one day I came on a fisher that had killed three por- cupine, only a small part of each of which he had eaten, and that near the throat. He was hard at work on the third one, when I shot him. ffiear &torteg UR common black bear is looked upon, by most people in Canada, as a very dangerous animal. This dread is even shared by our In- dians, and when bears are spoken of it is always with great respect. In fact, the name is seldom mentioned, but the bear is referred to as "the black beast" or simply "the animal/' When caught in a steel trap or seen at a distance, he is spoken to and asked that vengeance be not taken for his death. Even the bones are held in respect. They are never thrown to the dogs like other refuse, but placed in the fire and burned. The skulls are hung up in a tree. Some parts of the animal, like the paws and head, are never allowed to be eaten by women or children. These last if by some accident they eat any meat from the paws, are supposed to be liable to suffer all their lives from cold feet. At certain times bear feasts used to be held, at which no women were allowed to be present, and special wigwams were built wherein to hold the feast. At these feasts noth- ing else but bear's meat was allowed to be eaten. This was prepared in various ways ; either roast- ed on the spit, boiled or stewed. Blood pudding, fat pudding, and pure fat of the bear are other 86 BEAR STORIES dishes prepared from parts of the animal. "Fat pudding" is prepared in this way: About three or four feet of the large intestine is cut off with all the fat adhering to it. A ramrod or thin stick of suitable size is then inserted in the gut, and one end tied to it. It is then pulled inside out and cleaned. Berries are sometimes stuffed in- side with the fat. The ends are then tied, and the gut put to boil for about an hour and then laid aside to cool, as it is always eaten cold. It is served up in its full length on a birch bark plat- ter, and each guest cuts off with his knife what- ever length he is able to manage; the more he can stow away the greater being the honor he is pay- ing to his host. Being in luck one day, I chanced to supply the necessary viands for a feast in the shape of two bears, and of course had to be invited. Outside of the Hudson's Bay Company's agents, few whites have ever had that honor. Some of the hunters were away, so that the gathering was not a large one, some fourteen or fifteen guests being present. A long strip of white cotton serv- ed as a table cloth. This was laid down on the balsam branches, fresh cut for the occasion. A plate and knife and some thin sheets of birch bark were laid before each person, but no fork or spoon. When necessary to take a piece of meat out of the platter, a wooden skewer was used. BEAR STORIES 87 This, as well as the only ladle allowed, was made out of the mountain ash, the bear's favorite tree. For some reason that I could not find out no one sat at what we would call the head or foot of the table. The two oldest men sat opposite each other at one end, and after that, towards the foot, each guest according to his age or rank as a hunter. Every one being seated the first course was served. A large bowl of hot bear's grease took the place of soup. In this was the wooden ladle. The bowl was set before the chief ; after helping himself and sipping from the la- dle what quantity he chose, the bowl and ladle was passed on to the next man in rank, and so on to the end of the table. If there was a mighty hunter I should rather say eater able to dis- tinguish himself by drinking three or four ladles- f ul of the fat, it was always greeted with a round of applause. The first course through, the bowl was laid on the middle of the table and the ladle taken away. The second course was the bear's neck and head roasted on the spit, and the spit left in it, as it served to pass it around to each guest. It was stuck in front of the chief, who made a sort of address to it. He boasted of the bear's strength and abilities as a tree climber, and of its powers of endurance as a faster re- ferring to its hibernations and paid it all the other compliments he could think of. The end of 88 BEAR STORIES the spit was then raised and a piece bitten out or torn with the fingers, as no knife must touch this sacred piece de resistance. Like the bowl of fat it went around, and each one had to take a small piece or a bite as he fancied, but no one was allowed to take more. What was left was then put into the fire and burned for the absent ones, the deceased hunters. After this second course each guest was free to help himself and eat whatever quantity he chose of roast, boiled, stewed or pudding. Very little conversation was carried on during the feast. The diners were not there to " palaver," but for business, and any special gastronomic feat performed was sure to meet with general approval. After every one had eaten till he could stand no more, the bowl of fat was placed in front of the chief a second time. With his two hands open he dipped his palms in the fat, and then smeared his long hair with it, every guest following suit. Was this the origin of the use of bear's grease for the hair ? Thus ended the feast. Pipes and strong black plug tobacco were then brought forth and every- one who smoked enjoyed himself. What was left was quickly taken away by the women for their meal, and the small bones were thrown into the fire. As soon as the cloth was removed there was a general stretching out of the diners on the ground all round. Had I not been familiar with BEAR STORIES 89 these feasts I should have expected an invitation to a funeral shortly afterwards, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. Through the efforts of the missionaries these superstitious rites and customs have been partially abolished on the coast, but they are carried on just the same as soon as the Indians go inland for the hunt. Similar feasts are also held in honor of the cari- bou and the beaver, and also for birds, such as geese and loons. I have never heard of a fish feast in this section. In honor of whatever ani- mal or bird, the feast is held, no other kind of meat figures, and provision is always made to have more than will be eaten. They will actual- ly starve themselves for a time in order to collect the required quantity. Some years ago I sold a No. 5 bear trap to an old Indian named "Ka-mikamust," the One Who Sings. It was a Newhouse trap, and had a spread of jaws of about eleven inches. I had orig- inally paid twelve dollars for it, for traps were dear in those days. It had been a very lucky trap for me, and I had caught several fine bears in it. I used to set it near the path leading to the pools on the Godbout River. The last time I set it a large bear got fast in it, and as it was set with a drag, (a heavy piece of wood fastened to the chain), the bear had hauled it around consid- erably, up and down along the edge of the river, but he could not go far into the woods, as the drag 90 BEAR STORIES would catch in the trees. Seeing that he could not get rid of it in that manner he endeavored to cross the river with it. It was an unlucky at- tempt for both of us. The strong current car- him down into the deep water, where the weight of the trap held him down till he was drowned and my bear trap lost. I had an idea from the way he had acted that such was the case, but in spite of all our dragging and poking around we could not find it. The following spring when the high waters came down, the trap was carried down some distance and grounded near the end of an island, where salmon were usually landed by the anglers and one of the gaff men found it. The decayed paw was still fast in it, but the carcass had been carried away. I told this story to the old Indian, "and now," I said, "I am selling you the luckiest trap on earth, and only at cost price. I was charging him twelve dollars, The old man was delighted, and as he left I wished him good luck again. On reaching his hunting ground on a branch of the Manicouagan River the old Indian set his trap. And then, a very strange thing happened. On his first visit to the trap he found two large male bears caught in it, one by the hind paw and the other by the fore paw. Both paws were well inside the trap and gripped high. They had fought like devils to- gether and were torn and bloody but still securely held by the trap. ' 'Ka-mikamust" thought he BEAR STORIES 91 was dreaming and could hardly believe what he saw. There was something uncanny about that trap. Never in his life had any such thing hap- pened. It was unheard of in the tribe. It was too much luck and he could not stand it. He raised the trap and would not set it again; but going back to Bersimis with it he sold it to the first comer for three dollars! What eventually became of it I do not know, but I trust the good luck continued. I have trapped for a good many years myself, and have questioned old trappers, and no one around here ever heard of such a capture. Had it been a female and her cub it would have been less surprising. To show how the least thing out of the ordinary affects the superstitious minds of these Indians, I will re- late what occurred to another Indian, "Kask- nian." .He was originally a Lake St. John In- dian, but had finally settled on the Bersimis reser- vation, where he owned a good house. He was very fond of "fire water," and as he was a good hunter he generally managed to secure more than was good for him, so that it seriously affected his health. One winter, while he was on his trapping ground, he noticed same fox tracks, and placing a bait and steel trap on them, he found on his return trip a nice black fox in it. Need- less to say he was pleased with his capture. Here was enough to pay for all his winter's outfit. He reset his trap carefully, and next morning as he 92 BEAR STORIES passed on his way there was another black fox in in. Decidedly he was in luck, but it made him thoughtful. Two black foxes in succession was rare luck, but even this might happen without any supernatural agency. The trap was reset again, and strange as it may appear, another black fox waj caught next day. This was alto- gether too much for him. He raised the trap and went back to his wigwam. Meeting his wife he told her that the Evil Spirit was stuffing his traps. "I shall not hunt again," he said. "I am going to die soon." Nothing could get this idea out of his head. He raised all his traps and hunted only for meat. In the spring, when the ice on the rivers broke up, he returned to Bersi- mis, where, as bad luck would have it, he died that same summer. Fifty years of missionary work will not eradicate the superstitious belief that one chance circumstance like this will engender. Though I have heard any number of stories to the contrary, my own experience with the black bear is, that he will always run away from man if he has the chance. Of course, if wounded or cornered, he will show fight just the same as a much smaller animal would do. In cases like this he can be nasty, because he is a powerful brute. Some years ago, when porpoise oil was selling at seventy-five to eighty cents per gallon, porpoise shooting was quite a business here, BEAR STORIES 93 Two good men, in a canoe, if the weather was at all decent, would get from fifty to a hundred in a season, that is to say, from August to the mid- dle of September, about six weeks. After the layer of fat was removed, the carcass used to be left on the beach, when, if the weather was at all warm, they would swell up with the gas from the intestines and float off at high tide, getting strewn about everywhere. The smell from these carcasses rivalled in strength that of any high class perfumery shop, and foxes, bears and other animals would be attracted. One day, going to the east end of the bay here, I noticed bear tracks in the sand, and followed them. I found that the animal was hauling off some of these carcasses to the woods. The sand dune there was quite steep, and about twenty feet high, yet this bear a small one could climb that hill with a car- cass heavier than himself. My brother and I set a dead fall and we got him next day. He was a yearling. One season late in July, I was salmon fishing on the Trinity Eiver. It was a hot and bright day, and we had gone over three or four portages. Just above our last one there was a small stretch of dead water. On laying down the canoe I caught sight of a large bear. He was sitting on the end of a big spruce that had fallen across the river and broken in the middle. The tip of the tree had been washed away, but the roots and 94 BEAR STORIES the weight had kept the butt in place, so that it formed a sort of half bridge, the root high up the bank and the tip at the bottom of the river. Right near the water the bear was sitting on his haunches, snapping at the deer flies with his mouth, or occasionally whisking them off with his fore paws. I could easily have shot him from where I was, but his pelt was no good, being out of season, and we did not want the meat, so it would have been only waste to kill him. A fancy struck me however to give him a fright and make him drop in the water. So I told my brother what I wanted to do; namely, to sneak up quietly along the river until we were within a few yards of him, and then fire a shot and so dump him in the river. We got our canoe very cautiously in the water, and getting my gun ready in the bow, we both of us squatted right down in the bottom of the canoe, and without lifting our paddles out of the water we crept up very slowly. There was hardly any wind, but what little there was came down the river, thus giving us a chance. On we crept, never making a move if he happened to look in our direction, but as soon as he was busy with the flies we would shove along. When we got about thirty feet from him I raised my paddle noiselessly over the side and rested it on the bars of the canoe behind me. I then got hold of my gun, and was just steadying myself to fire in the air, when the BEAR STORIES 95 end of my paddle dropped from the bar to the bottom of the canoe. The bear gave a start and got on all fours, looking at us. Just at that mo- ment I fired one shot, and as he started on the run up the incline I let go the other barrel. He was not surprised enough to drop off the ]og, but the view of the manner in which he crashed into the woods was something to remember. Had this been in the kodak days the opportunity for a fine shot could not have been better. I suppose most of my readers have heard of bears, " playing possum" shamming death, when fired upon or wounded. This was some- thing I found very hard to believe, probably be- cause I had never given one much of a chance to sham. I know, however, of two cases, where ap- parently they did so act. The first occurred near Mingan. A half-breed named Bellefleur was out after a large bear that had been seen in the berry patches in the direction of Long Point. He was accompanied by his son, a boy of fourteen. After watching for some time they saw the bear feeding, and creeping up into the shelter of the bush, they both got within easy range. Belle- fleur, sr., fired his shot and the bear dropped. Carefully re-loading his gun he went up to the animal and poked it in the body to make sure it was really dead. The bear did not move. The hunter laid down his gun and pulled out his sheath knife to gut and bleed him. Just as he 96 BEAR STORIES grasped the forepaw the bear raised himself, and then followed a terrible fight for life on the part of Bellefleur. He called out to his son to shoot, but the poor boy was afraid to hit his father as the man and beast twisted around. The old hun- ter all this time was stabbing at the bear when ever he could get a chance. Finally Bellefleur was crushed and held down by the weight of the brute and a bite near the eye and the temple pierced his skull. About this time the boy fired his shot at the head of the bear and ran away to the post for help. When the other Indians arrived on the spot, they found them both hunter and bear dead, the latter lying over the half-breed's body. According to the statement of the Indians that skinned the animal, there was only one bullet in it, and that was in the head, which the boy claim- ed was from his shot. While I was living at Trinity Bay we used to set dead falls for bears in a large tract of burnt over country, where the blueberries grew about as thick as the black flies, and that's not saying a little. One day I happened to be busy at some more pressing work, so I sent my brother Firmin to visit the traps, cautioning him not to go near them if there was a bear in any of them, but to come right back for me. He was then a lad of about twelve and a pretty fair shot, but had never fired at any bigger game than rabbits in the mammal line. He had frequently gone alone, BEAR STORIES 97 however, to see these traps. This time he was in luck. On arriving at the second trap he found a bear in it. In springing the dead-fall the ani- mal had been caught by the hind leg and the bone had been broken so that he could twist himself around to a certain extent. Everything within reach he had torn and dragged towards him, thus increasing the weight on the strangler or holding part. My brother had his gun with him and getting to within twenty yards of him at least that is what he said he fired and the bear dropped. Remembering my caution he did not go any closer after his shot, but turned right back and came for me. He then told me about having shot it, and he was perfectly sure he had killed it as it had dropped like a stone. In case of further trouble, however, I thought we had better bring the gun along, and getting some ropes to tie and carry the bear we went back. On arriving near him we found bruin standing up and watching us coming. Arriving at about fif- teen feet from him I could see no appearance of any injury to him from my brother's shot. I drew a bead on his ear and fired, and there was no more shamming. That time it was the real thing. We found no trace of my brother's shot in him. It will sometimes take quite a lot of lead to lay a bear out if he is not struck in the right place. A side shot in the head and neck or shoulders was 98 BEAR STORIES considered the safest with the old style gun or rifle, and a front shot was never taken unless by a tyro. Many a bear has been lost that way. Now- adays, however, the penetration of a rifle bullet is so great that it does not much matter what end is shot at. The lead is bound to reach the other if the line is good. The head of a bear facing you looks pretty big on account of its peculiar shape, but the brain pan is naturally very small, that of a large black bear being only three inches in width and length. One of the finest black bears I ever secured was killed with a common shot gun, loaded with A shot. It was early in May, and I was out duck shooting. I had gone down about four miles along the cliffs towards Pointe des Monts. These cliffs are very steep, covered here and there with patches of stunted spruce. In the nine miles that cover the distance between Godbout and Point des Monts, there are only three small coves where there is any beach, everywhere else the rock comes sheer down to the water. I was just oppo- site one of these places, busy with a flock of scooters, the female of which I had brought down and the males continued circling around, keep- ing me loading as fast as I could, for it was in the muzzle-loading days. I suppose I had fired about a dozen shots in quick succession, when chancing to look shorewards I saw a bear going along en the beach. I was only about a hundred BEAR STORIES 99 yards or so out, but he had the lead on me. The shots I had fired had apparently not frightened him at all. I had a few loads of A shot in one of the compartments of my shot pouch, which I al- ways carried when out ducking in case of meeting seals. One barrel of my gun was loaded with No. four shot, which I had no time to extract, so I loaded only the one barrel with A. shot. Hastily grabbing my paddle I urged my canoe forward with all my strength. Although he never ap- peared to notice me, this quiet jog of his took him along about as fast as I could paddle, and I had gained very little on him. I was making a des- perate effort to shorten the distance, because he was nearing the end of the cove where he was certain to enter the woods as he could not get around the steep rock. Sure enough he did as I had expected. I was then about seventy yards from him, and as I knew that this was my only chance for a shot I fired just as he entered the scrub with his side towards me. I fancied by the start he made that I had hit him, but I supposed only lightly. However, I decided to go and see, and, hauling up my canoe and reloading, this time both barrels with the large shot, I started in. Just where I had struck him I found some hair cut by the shot. There was still in the woods patches of snow here and there, which made the tracking easy, and I had not gone twenty yards before I found blood, very little, however, and 100 BEAR STORIES his pace did not so far appear to have slackened. A few yards further I found he had stopped, and then I knew he was very sick, but there was no trace of blood. Continuing, about eighty yards from where he had entered, I found him on his side, dead. I broke a dead tree and poked him in the ribs, keeping my gun close by, but there was no sham about it. Two pellets only had hit him, one in the haunch, a mere scratch, and the other between the ribs behind the shoulder joint, penetrating to the heart. The shot hole was so small that only a few drops of blood es- caped, all the bleeding being internally, which, I think, caused quicker death. Our Montagnais Indians claim that the black bear, previous to entering his den for tha winter, will swallow a cone of the pine tree, or a small smooth stone. They assert that the bear does this to keep his bowels in order, and that as it is eva- cuated, it is re-swallowed and so on during the whole winter. I first heard of this from the old "Godbout" Chief, who claimed he had himself found the cone in the intestines of bears he had killed in their dens. Subsequently many others have told me the same thing. Personally, I never had the chance to verify this statement, as I have only killed one bear in its winter den and that was previous to my hearing the story. The In- dians also believe that if a bear is not killed in its den, but hauled out and killed at some dis- BEAR STORIES 101 tance from it, the next winter another bear will occupy it. I believe that this is quite a probable thing. The bear my brother and I killed while trapping was shot in the den after I had heard the story. I revisited the place several times, but no others had occupied it, though I found evi- dence of some having passed quite near it. It was a female I had killed, and though early in March about the 10th she had her cub with her, a little mite about the size of a kitten. The den was on the slope of a mountain, with a south- ern aspect. It was well lined with balsam branches and grass, some of which had been col- lected two or three hundred yards away. This was the first indication of one being near. After that we hunted around till we found its air hole, the warmth of the animal causing some of the snow to melt. Into i (got jHjr first (grijjlj. I terminate these few notes on bears with a narrative of how I got my first grizzly. It was during a hunting trip with Baron de la Grange in 1882. We had outfitted at Fort Washakie, Wyoming Territory. There we were joined by some of the military men from the Post, who were also going out on an expedition official and hunting combined. Our party, for two weeks, was composed as follows: Colonel V. K. Hart, 5th Cavalry, U.S.A.; Dr. Woods, of Indiana the Colonel's brother-in-law Lieut. R. E. 102 BEAR STORIES Thompson, 6th Infantry, U.S.A.; Lieut. H. de H. Waite, 5th Cavalry, U.S.A.; Baron Ernest de la Grange, and myself. We had a guide and three men for our party, and eight regulars, un- der the command of Sergt. Steele, accompanied the military party. When we separated two weeks later, the Baron and I continued on our trip alone for two weeks more. The sole object of Dr. Woods' trip was to secure one specimen of the buffalo, and everything that was possible was done by all concerned towards the attainment of this end. I am happy to say that on the fifth day out the Doctor drew first blood, securing his much coveted prize, after which he took things easily. Some days later we camped on Grass Greek, and in the afternoon paid a visit to Mr. George Bax- ter, who owned a ranch there and whose establish- ment was about two miles from our camp. From him we learned that a few days previous to our arrival, some of his men had reported seeing two grizzly bears while they were employed cutting timber on the upper portion of the creek. As none of them had lost any bears, they had not gone after them. We concluded that this would be a suitable place to spend a couple of days hunting, as antelope, deer and elk might also be found. Next morning the hunting party was divided. The Baron, Lieut. Thompson and the half-breed guide were to hunt on the west side of the creek. Lieut. Waite and myself were to take BEAR STORIES 103 the east side, Colonel Hart and the Doctor were to pass the day in camp, as the latter, being ad- vanced in years, was somewhat tired. Our plan was to ride up along the creek to the foot of the mountains about five miles distant, and there tie our horses and hunt on foot through the timber belt. The Lieutenant, although a young man then, had already seen considerable service and specially distinguished himself during a rising of the Araphoe Indians. He also knew enough of woodcraft to be able to hunt alone. On reach- ing the foothills we picketed our horses, the Lieu- tenant's a big cavalry horse, and mine, a mustang or Indian pony. Just at this point there was a large patch of heavy spruce trees gradually dwindling in size as we ascended the mountain, till the timber line was passed. This patch was in the shape of a triangle with its apex near the creek. Our lunch and every other cumbersome thing were left with our horses, as we had a steep climb before us. We arranged to climb up on tne open portion east of the timber, and then coming down, each of us was to take one side of the wood, meeting at the bottom if no game was found- We expected in this way that if either of us started any large game, he would have a chance of a shot, while at the same time driving it towards the other. On arriving above the tim- ber line we sighted three elk, but they were so far off that we decided to leave them alone for 104 BEAR STORIES the moment, and continue as first proposed, my companion taking the left slope, while I was to go around to the right. Lieut. Waite had a regulation military carbine 45-70 and a service revolver. I was armed with a 50 cal. Winchester Express and a 45 Colt's revolver. After separating we hunted continuously, expecting to meet about two hours later. I skirted the wood for a while and saw some bear signs, but they were not very fresh. A little later on I came to the bed of a dried up brook, a very common thing at that season (September), in Wyoming. Here on the dry sand and mud I saw the largest bear track I had ever set eyes upon, but on this dry soil I could not judge of its freshness. As it followed down the dry water way, 1 thought I might just as well keep on the track for a time, the more so as the banks of tne brook were steep. I had gone on in this way for about twenty minutes, carefully scanning the hill on each side, when I got sight of my bear. I thought that possibly he had heard me coming and had left the brook to climb up the bank. Whatever may have been the cause he seemed in no hurry to get away. He was about thirty yards off and right above me. As he moved upwards his rump was about the on- ly part of his body exposed, except that I got a momentary glimpse of half of his head when he turned it to look at me. The time was too short to get a sure shot and the surface of the animal BEAR STORIES 105 too slanting, so I decided to try a shot for the backbone, which I knew would cripple him if hit fair, and then I could finish him with a second shot. Taking a careful aim I fired. With a squeal as if a dozen pigs were butchered, he dropped in his tracks, and was up almost as quick- ly, turning towards me. As he turned I took a second aim for the shoulder, and the next instant there was a mass of hair and flying branches coming down on me. I had a third cartridge in, all ready, but it was impossible to take a sure shot owing to the manner in which he was coming down. I therefore waited till he reached the bot- tom of the brook, which was about ten feet across. Right near the foot and partly across the brook there was a fallen dry spruce tree; it was too low for him to go under, so I knew he would have to rear up when he got there and that is what I waited for. As he rose over it I gave him the third shot right in the middle of the chest. He came down in a heap, the blood spurting from the last bullet hole. When we cut him up afterwards we found that this last shot had cut off the entire top of his heart and penetrating to the backbone had broken it, killing him instantly. On the North Shore I had grown to rather look down upon the black bear, but as I gazed on that mass of flesh and the powerful limbs, I realized that the grizz- ly was deserving of some respect. It was almost impossible for me to move and skin the animal 106 BEAR STORIES alone before night, and as I knew that Lieut. Waite must have heard my shots, and could not be very far off, I fired three more shots from my revolver in quick succession, as a signal for as- sistance. He had in fact heard my three first shots and had surmised immediately that I had found the lost bear and forthwith had started in my direction, but when he heard the second batch of three shots, he thought I was certainly cornered and started on the run, being then only a quarter of a mile or so from me. In a few minutes I heard him coming. I gave him a shout which he answered, and sitting down on the bear, I drew out a cigar, which I had brought for our mid-day smoke, and lighted it. As he came out he gave a hurrah, and rising, he shook hands with me, congratulating me on my good luck. Then he took a look at the surroundings, while I gave him the details of the shooting. Well, he said, "Friend Labradorian," that was my sobriquet among the party, this cigar smoking of your's is very fine now, but I think it is a little bit forced. I wish I had a pocket looking-glass to give you; and then we had a laugh and another handshake over it. While I was busy skinning one side, the Lieutenant agreed to go for the horses to jack down the skin and some of the meat to our camp, as the gully was clear enough for the horses to come through. On his return he tied them a bit further down, as the smell of the bear BEAR STORIES 107 would have made them restless. We had a big job between the two of us to turn him over and skin the other side, and we estimated that he weighed at least nine hundred pounds, but was probably more. On the back and rump he had a layer of fat four inches thick. This immense thickness of fat and the long hair had deceived me as to my first shot, which had ploughed through the fat and just cleared the back bone, the shock of which had been sufficient, however, to make him fall. My second one had struck behind the shoulder, breaking one rib and tearing a portion of the lung, but as he was turning when I fired, it had gone too far behind on the other side to do much damage to his vital parts. When the meat and skin were ready, Lieutenant Waite went for my horse, leading him up by the lariat and blind- folding him with his coat, so that I could load and jack the skin and meat on him. He was very fidgetty and pranced around a good deal, but I managed to finish my work. As soon, however, as to the lieutenant removed his coat, he gave an awful snort and broke loose, dashing down the gully. Very luckily the long lariat was trailing behind and Lieutenant Waite jumping on his horse, managed to overtake and stop him by get- ting his horse to tramp on the trailing lariat. After some little petting he quieted down and we had no further trouble, eventually reaching our camp about five p.m. The other hunting party 108 BEAR STORIES had returned, but had not been lucky; a fair herd of antelopes had been sighted, but they were un- able to get near enough for a shot. Next morn- ing another load of meat was jacked down and the balance left for the coyotes. When we returned to Quebec in December, I took the skin back with me, and at Messrs. Ren- frew's request, it was placed on exhibition in a show window of their splendid fur establish- ment. Mr. C. Farquharson Smith, who was the manager of tne bank of British North America, took a great fancy to it, and although I felt loth to part with it, I finally let him have it, and I presume that some member of his family has still got it in his possession. If so, on the inside of it will be found this inscription : Killed by NAP. A. COMEAU, on Grass Creek, Wyoming Territory, Sept. 20th, 1882. ffioacftera NE cannot be a fishery officer or guardian for forty years without coming into contact with poachers and finding out many of their tricks and ways of escaping capture. Many years ago there were two kinds of poachers on this coast, the professional, who made a living by it, and the poacher through necessity, or for the sport he got at the same time as food. Now- adays the professional has practically disap- peared, because nearly every river or brook of any consequence in the county has a guardian. Be- sides this there is also the local fishery officer. A professional poacher needs quite an outfit in the way of nets and also a couple of boats, in order to make the illicit business pay. He must also have means of disposing of his fish, which it is almost impossible to do now, without being detected. The second class, however, still exists, and al- though these cannot cause any serious damage, they are sometimes very annoying. Their outfit is very light and may consist of only a landing net, spear, gaff or snare, easily hid on the person, and frequently thrown away, when danger is scented. They also have the sympathy of the community and no evidence can be had against them. For many years now I have been in the 110 POACHERS habit of travelling at night, or on strange boats, in order to avoid having my movements reported by the telegraph operators along the coast. These poachers sometimes have partners whose duty it is to watch and signal the approach of the officer or guardian. This is done in many ways, either by firing a gun, making a smoke or waving some object, and if at night by lighting a match or a tire. In spite of this an odd one is occasion- ally caught. The greatest trouble I ever had was with a half-breed Indian named Wm. Jordan. He was the youngest son of an old Hudson Bay Co. Agent here at Godbout. His two eldest brothers were educated and took to the white man's way of liv- ing, but the pure Indian cropped out in William. He never consented to go to school, was very un- ruly, and finally left his father to go with the Indians. He was a man of fine physique, over six feet high, strong as a horse and a splendid hunter. He was also notorious as being one of the two Indians who had threatened Dr. Adam- son and his party and had speared salmon right in front of their camp. He was arrested and let off on promise of good behaviour. He never gave any trouble openly after that, but whenever he had a chance he would kill a fish now and then for food. Of course I would know of this by the signs that were left. This went on for three or four years, and in spite of the many attempts POACHERS 111 that I made I could not catch him. He got very saucy after a time and used to boast about his ex- ploits in poaching so that I should hear of them. He carried this so far as to lay out a salmon on a board that was used as a seat at the pool. I had guessed long before that he was not alone, but that he had confederates to warn him whenever I left the house. I had slept at the pool several times and had been hiding in the woods to watch for him for days in succession, but all to no pur- pose. The pool was over three miles distant from the house and half of the distance was up the river by canoe to the foot of the first rapids where the portage began. Immediately on leaving the river on the west side there was a high hill, from which one had a full view of the river right down to the entrance, and the Indian settlement was right on the end of this point. Any signal made from this point could be seen from the hill and ample warn- ing given. One morning, being tired with watching, I had slept much later than usual. It was about ten o'clock, and I was just finishing dressing when I saw an Indian coming towards the house. I immediately surmised that Wil- liam, not seeing me around, was sending this chap to spy. I told my sister, who was with me, to try and delay this chap as much as possible, and to tell him, if he inquired for me, that I had been gone since morning to mend one of my her- ring nets in the bay. As the fellow came in at 112 POACHERS one door I was going out by the other and hiding as much as possible. I ran for the woods, which at the house were quite close. My object was now to reach the river opposite the high hill men- tioned and if I saw signs of a watchman there, to continue up the east side of the river, swim over somewhere and thus get to the pool which was on the west side. Counting the windings, I had two miles of nasty walking, partly through swampy ground, to reach the river. I ap- proached cautiously on the edge of the bank, and peering through the branches I saw an Indian sitting on the top of the hill, watching the river and smoking his pipe. I began to have hope of success. I hastened through the woods to reach a path on the east side and up this I went at top speed. This path ended at the foot of a steep cliff forming a small pool, where I stripped and swam over, carrying what light clothes I had on my head. I was soon over the quarter of a mile that remained to reach the last pool, at the foot of the falls. In the falls itself, which were a succession of drops, were some deep holes, called pots, in which the salmon rested in their ascent. Going quietly over a projection of the rocks I saw William, speer in hand, watching on the edge of a pot for a fish to show itself. On the rocks near by were two dead salmon. I was standing about fifteen feet from him. A salmon surged up in the boiling waters. Down went the spear, there POACHERS 113 were a few struggles and the fish got off. He had struck too much towards the tail. Speaking quietly in Indian, I said: "Your sight is bad, William !" He turned as if he had been shot at, and so surprised that I thought he was going to fall in the river. He stared at me, utterly unable to speak. "Give me your spear," I continued, "and pick up your two salmon and come away home." Without saying a word, he obeyed. With my knife I cut away the fastenings of the jaws and handle of the spear and threw them into the river, keeping only the middle steel point. In the meantime he had placed his two fish in a bag and had them on his back. To show that I was absolutely confident I led the way and he fol- lowed. On arriving at the hill there was another surprise party for the other chap. He was a Trinity Bay Indian named "Bajou," (Big Cheeks). I went up to him, and laying my hand on his shoulder, said: "You are my prisoner, come on down!" We went down the hill, where the canoe was hid in a clump of alders. It was put in the water and I took a comfortable seat in the middle, making them paddle me home. On the way, William found his tongue and asked, "What are you going to do about us?" I an- swered that I did not know yet, that I would con- sult the superintendent first. After the return journey I took the two salmon and carried them to tne Chief, explaining how they had been ille- gally taken, and that I hoped he would see this 114 POACHERS was not repeated. The next day William came to see me. "I have come to have a talk with you," he said. "I never thought you could cap- ture me, but now that you have, I will make a proposition to you; if you will let me go, I will give you my word, I shall never poach on the river again." I said, "All right, I will trust you." He kept his word. He lived here many years after that and never gave me any trouble. Later on he told me there had been four in his gang. One used to watch my house, and if uncertain about my presence, would come in on some pre- tence or other to see if I was away, in which case there would be no move. The second kept watch on the point and would signal to the one on the hill, who then had lots of time to spare to warn William and get away. He never knew how I had managed to evade his three spies. The most common kind of spear used by Indians or white men in this locality is the negog, but for use in deep waters or strong currents the entogan a bone spear, is mostly used. The bone piece is about six inches long and secured by a thong in the middle, to which can be attached any length of line necessary. Both points are sharp and the middle is fitted with a socket, into which a long Entogan " (Bone Spear) POACHERS 115 handle fits. When a fish is struck the handle is retained in the hand and the bone spear remains in the fish, gets crosswise and cannot pull out. The fish is then played and gradually pulled in. The entogan is sometimes used to spear beaver. For snaring salmon, dried greased thong, or cop- per or brass wire is used. The snare is attached to the end of a stout rod, of birch, mountain ash or sapling. The loop is seven to eight inches in diameter, with a foot or more of spare wire be- tween the loop and the rod. The noose is then passed under and around the fish and when about opposite the back fin a jerk is given and the fish is snared by the tail. Fish are frequently shot in from six to fifteen inches of water; especially pike, on reed beds in the spring. A perpendicular direction is neces- sary for a sure shot, unless in very shallow water, when a slanting shot will kill if proper allowance is made for refraction of water by aiming below the fish. Only in very shallow water are fish actually struck by shot, usually being killed by the shock alone. (Indian Salmon Spear) gfrue Afloat N the spring of 1898 I was ordered by the gen- eral superintendent of government telegraphs to clear the way and reconstruct forty-seven miles of telegraph line bet wen Portneuf and Bersimis. This last place I reached on the 1st of April. A friend of mine, Mr. A. Lausier, was the operator in charge of the repeating office. As I had to remain there a few days, hiring men and pur- chasing suplies, I availed myself of Mr. Lau- sier's kind offer to stay with him. He and his family, consisting of five persons and a servant, occupied a fair sized wooden house, formerly the property of the Bersimis Lumber Company. It was a two story building with a lean-to addition which served as a storehouse. The ground floor was divided into three apartments, a sitting and dining-room combined, one bedroom and the tele- graph office. The second floor was divided into four bedrooms, one of which in the northern cor- ner of the house, was assigned to me. The en- trance to my room was just at the head of the stairs. These faced the front door, which was reached by a short passage. A light door closed the stairs at the foot. Being somewhat tired after my long day's walk I retired early and was soon asleep. About eleven o'clock I was awak- A TRUE GHOST STORY 117 ened by a bark from Mr. Lausier's dog, a large Newfoundland, which slept on a rug in the sit- ting room. I also heard some one walking down- stairs, and, presuming it was some member of the family, I dozed off again and slept soundly till morning. When I came down for breakfast I noticed that my host and his wife both looked as if they had passed a sleepless night. As there were a couple of young children, I concluded that the babies had been troublesome. On the second evening, which was a Saturday, my friend pro- posed that we should drive over with his dog team next morning, which would be that of Palm Sunday, and attend service at the Indian Mission This was most agreeable to me. It would afford me the opportunity of meeting my esteemed friend, Mr. R., the Hudson's Bay Agent, and at the same time of paying my respects to the Revd. Fathers. One of the neighbours had dropped in and was to join us in our drive across the river. We retired about half-past nine, for people in the country, and especially those living on the North Shore, do not keep late hours. When bidding them good night I remarked for the first time that I was alone upstairs, all the family and the servant sleeping downstairs, and apparently all in the same room. I was rather astonished at this, as the room was only about fifteen feet square. However, they had probably some good 118 A TRUE GHOST STORY reasons for it, and it was none of my business to inquire what they were. I sat in my room for a few minutes looking over some accounts and other papers and then turned in. As usual I was soon asleep. At about the same hour as on the previous night I was again awakened by the whining of the big dog down stairs, and the sound of some one moving about and dropping some heavy object on the floor. "What a careless servant," I thought to myself, and went asleep again. In the morning after an early breakfast we drove over to the Mission and attended ser- vice. This Indian mission was under the direc- tion of Rev. Father Arnaud, a venerable old gen- tleman of seventy, who had passed fifty years of his life in missionary work among the Labrador Indians. Having known me since my childhood his greeting was most cordial. "You must come and dine with me, Alex," he said, and of course I accepted. Immediately after mass, my friend Lausier went to the vestry and had a long pri- vate conversation with the Rev. Father. We had an excellent dinner prepared by an Indian cook. French bean soup, boiled salmon, roast beaver and vegetables, stewed prunes and cheese, claret and coffee. On rising from the table Father Arnaud said to me, "come over to my room, I wish to speak to you." He produced some cigars, and beckoning to me to sit down, said, A TRUE GHOST STORY 119 "you have been staying in Mr. Lausier's since your arrival, I hear? 5 ' "Yes, Father." "Did you notice anything strange about the house, or hear any noises at night?" "Well, yes, I did hear some noise," and related what I have previously described, adding that I believed it was the servant or some one of the family. "Not at all," said the good father, "the inmates are all huddled together in one room and don't dare to move." He then proceeded to re- peat to me what Mr. Lausier had confided to him. "Some eight or ten days previous to my arrival, all the family had been awakened during the night by an unearthly yell, and then the tramp of footsteps in the house. The children and the servant girl who were sleeping upstairs, ran down screaming. The dog had also heard the noise and was barking furiously. Lausier had jumped out ot bed and lighted his lamp on hear- ing the screech, and had then heard the tramping and noise. With a gun in one hand and his lamp in the other he had gone through every room in the house and could find nothing. Every night since, at about the same hour, the tramping and knock- ing had been repeated. Lausier and his family were so frightened and worried over the affair that they had decided to leave the house, unless some change took place. "Of course, you know," added Father Arnaud, "that it was in that house 120 A TRUE GHOST STORY that Mr. Le J committed suicide two years ago; Lausier believes that it is Le J 's spirit walking around, and asked me to celebrate a high mass for the repose of his soul, which is very kind and good of him, but I don't believe that Le J has got anything to do with this. Now, Alex, I know you are not very easily frightened, and I wish you would try and find out what is the cause of all this." He hinted that possibly some of the neighbors knowing Lausier to be a little superstitious, were trying to frighten him. I promised I would do my best and let him know next morning what had occurred. So wish- ing him good bye I returned with Mr. Lausier to the telegraph station. In the evening a couple of the neighbours came in for a chat, but not a word was spoken about the supposed ghost or spirit that haunted the house. On the guests' departure I noticed that my friend locked and bolted the front door carefully. Bidding the family god- bye I retired, and took special care to close the stair passage door well. Being determined to see what that ghost was made of if I got a chance to meet him, I took out of my camp bag a spare hickory axe handle I had brought with me. It was about eighteen inches long, but sufficiently heavy to give a good wh&ck. Laying it on the table near me I took a book and read. Eleven o'clock came; this was the usual hour. Not a A TRUE GHOST STORY 121 sound! Was I to be disappointed? Half-past eleven, and still no ghost came. Evidently he was not disposed to be sociable. I was getting sleepy, and had a long day's travelling to do next day. Placing some matches close at hand I put out the lamp and turned in. My head had hardly touched the pillow when I heard a light rap on the house and then footsteps. I listened intently in the absolute silence that reigned for a time. Then I could hear distinctly, tramp! tramp! Someone was coming up the stairs. Now was my time. I crept out of bed stealthily, grasp- ed the axe handle, and having left my bedroom door open on purpose, I made for the stairs; with arms outstretched I could touch each side of the stairway. I bumped against the door at the foot, it was still firmly closed. I opened it and entered the sitting room. The dog was lying near the stove, whining. Nothing visible; but hark! what was that ? The footsteps sounded in my room. Things were getting interesting. I hur- ried to the stairs, closing the door quietly. On reaching my bedroom I also closed it, went to the table quickly, and was striking a match when, as if to mock me, a tremendous knock was given, loud and strong enough to vibrate through the house; then a rush of footsteps on the stairs and everything was quiet again. The heavy blow had apparently come from under my bed, or in that corner, which, as I have said before, was the north- 122 A TRUE GHOST STORY ern corner. Having lighted the lamp I examined the room and everything was exactly as I had left it on retiring. Going to the stairs, I found the door still closed, and the front door was bolt- ed as Mr. Lausier had left it. I returned up- stairs and went through the other three rooms. There was nothing there either. The ghost had come and gone without a chance to meet him ! It was too bad, but the fault was not on my side. I looked at my watch. It was half -past twelve. I had no more time to lose if I wanted to get some rest. Putting the light out I got into bed again, and slept undisturbed till daylight, when I heard Mr. Lausier lighting the fire in his stove. Com- ing down I wished him good morning. "Good morning/' said he, "I heard you walking about and coming down stairs, and of course you saw nothing." I confessed I had not. "It's no use," he went on, "I also looked around every- where last week. I know it's Le J 's spirit. It was in this very room that he died, poor fellow. His soul is now doing penance for his misdeeds. I have had a high mass celebrated for him, and Father Arnaud has promised to have special prayers offered this week, so I trust that we shall soon be quit of him." His belief was so firm that I saw it was no use arguing unless I had some tangible proof to show him. The night had been fine and moderately cold, and as frequently occurs in the spring there was A TRUE GHOST STORY 123 a hoar frost on the ground. Here and there on the sandy point remained some patches of snow. There was a chance to see if some of the neighbors were concerned in this. I walked around the house, scanning the frozen ground carefully. Hello, what was this? I had come upon two fresh drops of blood! I bent down low. There was a trace of some animal coming from the nor- thern side of the house. Following this up I reached the window of the storeroom. One of the lower panes was broken and the window smeared with blood and dog's hair. This was evidently the ghost's outlet, and it was some satisfaction to know it had four legs. Going in I told my friend that if he would allow me to go to his store room with him I might possibly show him where Le J - J s spirit came in and robbed him, and sure enough it was as I had expected. Several pieces of beef and fresh pork were missing. It being Lent, Lausier had hung up this meat in the up- per room of the store, till it would be required at Easter. The whole matter was now quite plain to me. On the first night, when the dog, a big Husky, belonging to the mail carrier had broken the pane of glass, he had cut himself bad- ly on the head and given a yell of pain. On sub- sequent nights, as soon as the lights were out, he would enter the store room, walk up the stairs and jump for a piece of meat, which being frozen hard, would come down on the floor like a sledge 124 A TRUE GHOST STORY hammer and shake the whole house. The stairs which were attached to the side of the house were of one-inch boards. Being opposite those of the house, when the dog went up, in the stillness of the night, one could have sworn that the house stairs were being ascended. The window was boarded up and Le J 's ghost rested peace- fully, and so did Lausier and his family. ''The only thing I now regret," said my friend, "is the three dollars paid for the high mass!" Old Father Arnaud laughed heartily when I told him this. and in tfte &t Hatorence %* E have in the Gulf and Kiver St. Lawrence six species of seals, five of which are resi- dents; that is to say that, although subject to migrations, specimens of them are found here at all seasons of the year. This statement is not made on supposition but on personal observation and experience. The following is a list of the species: Phoct, vitulina, common harbor seal. Phoca groenlandica, harp seal. Phoca foetida, floe rat, or ringed seal. Halichoerus, grypus, horse head or grey seal. Cystophora cristala, hooded seal, and Erignathus barbatus ( ?) square flipper. This last one is the straggler of our waters, as also the rarest. I have never seen it in summer. I shot only two of them during the several winters I spent at seal hunting at Point des Monts, and saw three or four others killed. It is one of the largest of our seals ; equal almost in size to the hooded seal, but easily distinguish- ed by its peculiar yellowish color and the small size of its head as compared with those of other seals. I have never seen the young of this seal here, and presume they breed much further north. The two I killed were nales and were about eight feet long and very fat. They probably weighed 126 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING seven to eight hundred pounds each. When one of these is seen at a distance it is easily recog- nized by its peculiar manner of lying with the whole of its back out of the water, thus resembl- ing a buoy, and raising its head occasionally to breathe or look around. Then it lowers its head under the surface again, as if looking for some- thing in the water, frequently diving while in that position, without raising its head, and going forward, head first. I never saw any of these on the ice, like our other seals, probably because of their scarcity. The smallest of the seals here is the floe rat, or ringed seal, which last is a very appropriate name on account of its pretty ring- shaped markings. The local name here is the gum seal, but why it is so called I never heard satisfactorily explained. Many persons con- found this variety with the harbor seal, but the least attention will serve to show the difference. The hair is not so close and fine as that of the harbor seal, and is not spotted, but marked in rings. In life they are easy to recognize by their short stumpy appearance, and by the size and shape of the fore flippers. They are the only seals here that keep ice holes open on the large bays. English Bay and St. Pancras Cove near Manicouagan, used to be, some years ago, favor- ite localities for them, but since the establishment of lumber mills near Manicouagan, they have forsaken the place or been exterminated, as a X SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 127 they are comparatively tame and easily shot; an ordinary duck load of number four or five shot sufficing to kill them owing to their small size. The last specimen I saw and killed was at St. Pancras cove in August, 1887. It was about three feet long, and weighed betwen seventy -five and eighty pounds. Looking over some old records I find I shot a female of this species with young in March, 1875. The young had a white coat of fur as in the Greenland and some other seals. The mother had almost completed the period 01 gesta- tion. In size it was smaller than a harbor seal. Specimens of this variety were never at any time numerous enough to be specially sought afte*, but were killed while hunting other varieties or in chance meetings. Harp %t&l (Jpljora (Sroenlanitra) The Harp or Greenland Seal (Phoca Groen- landica) is the most abundant of all our seals, roving up and down the St. Lawrence, in their migrations, in immense numbers. It is known under a variety of local names, such as Brasseuoc, Pivelee, Bar re Noir, Barre Sale, Coeur Marque, &c, but these different names are applied to one and the same seal, according to its age and varia- tion in color and markings. It is eminently gregarious, hundreds and even thousands of them being seen together. I have observed one herd at Point des Monts more than a mile 128 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING long; there must have been several thousand seals in it. Greenland seals are to be met with at all seasons here, but are most numerous in winter, especially in December and January and the early part of February, at which time the breed- ing females disappear and resort to the icefields in the Gulf, for the purpose of depositing their young, which they begin to do about the 15th of February. As in the case of the Harbor Seal, the young are perfectly white at birth and have a fine silky coat of about an inch long; if they are killed within two or three days after birth, this fur is very fine, but if a longer time has elapsed, especially if it is fine weather, the hair falls off quickly and the true hair and color is assumed. At one year old the color is whitish under- neath with occasionally a few black spots about the size of a ten cent piece. These spots are not always present, very often the color be- ing a uniform dirty white. On the back they have a broad streak of a greyish or blackish color. In their second year there is a slight change. The markings are more numerous and are never absent, the Black spots are also larger and more generally distributed over the body. The color of the back is not quite so dark and even. In the third year most of the black spots having en- larged are merged into each ether and form irreg- ular patches about the size of a hen's egg or slightly larger; the color of the spots also begins SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 129 to fade, and they have not the same clearness of outline. A few bring forth young at this age, but very rarely. Fourth year: At this age one may say that they have attained almost their full size. The two peculiar stripes on the back, from which I believe they derive their name, as they re- semble a harp in shape, begin to appear, the other spots disappear gradually in proportion as these stripes become more distinct and perfect, until such time, probably at the age of nine or ten years, when these two bars and part of the back of the head and nose alone are black, all the rest being pure white. After nour- ishing their young for a period of about three weeks, the latter are left to their own resources, and strange to say, they do not seem to take readily to the water. About this time the females have lost the immense coat of fat they had before giving birth to their: young and take to the water to feed for a short time, after which they return to the ice at intervals, but by the 20th of March again put in an appear- ance near the shore and feed voraciously. Their chief food is caplin or herring, but nothing comes amiss, sculpins, flounders, shrimps and other small fry being swallowed indiscriminately. I have also found in them the remains of salmon and Norwegian haddock, sebastis Norwegians. They do not all leave the ice at the same time, some of them remaining on it till the middle 130 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING of April, and perhaps, in some cases, till still later, although I do not believe that they stay much beyond this period, which is their mating season. Their period of gestation is about the same as the common seal, that is to say about nine months. Like it, they also bring forth but one young at a birth, except in rare instances, a few of which have come under my own knowledge, when two are produced. In one case I had shot the mother before she gave birth to twins. The males of this species fight very savagely amongst themselves, frequently bearing scars and marks from the teeth and claws of their rivals. They do not seem to be possessed of any sense of smell, or if so, it is not very highly developed. While out shooting for them I have frequently seen them come to the surface, within five or six yards of and to the leeward of me, and so long as we did not move they did not pay the slightest attention to our proximity ; on the slightest movement, how- ever, they would disappear, although, if not too shy, or previously shot at, they would come up again a little further off. When shy they do not reappear except at a long distance and frequently remain under water from fifteen to twenty min- utes. When wounded with a rifle ball or a large buckshot, unless they are nearly dead, they will go a great distance, but if struck by small shot, such as Number A, they soon come to the surface. The only way in which I can account for this is SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 131 that their blood does not flow freely from the small shot hole in the thick skin, and forming a clot on the inside soon accumulates and chokes them, while when struck with a ball or large buckshot, the wound is large and the blood escapes easily, thereby enabling them to breathe at their ease. During the months of July, August, September, October and November, they are not so numerous, but as I said before a few are to be seen all the year round. I have been told by professional seal hunters that the females have young only every second year. I am inclined to doubt this state- ment as it is only founded on the fact that some adult females are shot during the winter without young. I have often shot them myself, still i do not consider this conclusive proof, as the same thing is observed amongst an mammals, though perhaps not quite to the same extent. From a careful observation extending over several years, I have found that the proportion of males to females is about equal, that is judging from the number killed annually at Point des Monts about 350 on an average where they are shot in the water. Of course when killed on the ice by the sealers in February and March the number of females must preponderate. This species and the comon seal have only two teats and not four as erroneously supposed by some. The Harp Seal has six upper and four lower 132 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING incisors, four canine teeth and ten molars in each jaw. The length of a full grown harp seal is about seven feet and the weight three hundred pounds if in prime condition, nearly one-half of this be- ing solid fat. I once killed one that yielded eighteen gallons of oil, but this was much above the average. To the initiated, seal shooting is very fascinating sport, in spite of the numerous dangers attending it. which in the estimation of some hunters, only add zest to it. Off Point des Monts, where most of my shooting was done for some years, we killed most of our seals in open water, though now and then some would be killed on the ice. The necessary outfit was a light can- oe, either wood or birch bark, 14 feet long, three hardwood paddles, a spare one in case of a break, one harpoon with light handle, eight feet long, and three or four fathoms of quarter inch rope attached to it ; one barbless hook, made out of three-eighth inch round bar steel and bent sharply with a long shank and point and two fathoms of rope; a large bore gun, 10 guage or heavier ac- cording to the fancy of the shooter, and cartrid- ges loaded with SSG to A shot. Some guns per- form better with some of the sizes between, such as AAA or AAAA, and as the penetration must be good, they should always be tested. During my first winter's hunting I used a 10 guage double barrelled gun, but after that I gave preference to SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 133 a single barrel 8 bore, together with a rifle, and that winter I more than doubled the catch of the regular professionals. In very calm or fine wea- ther seals are shy, and at such times I used the rifle to advantage, getting them at ranges varying from one to three hundred yards. With a good shot gun, thirty-five to forty yards is considered a long shot, and on a large seal thirty yards is far enough. It is surprising how much shot these animals can sometimes carry away. A seal that is well hit makes no fuss on the water after the shot, and will frequently remain for an instant with the head sticking out of it exactly as when struck. Then it will fall gradually over and float on the side, or in some few cases with its back up, witn head and flippers under water. The canoe is paddled up as quickly as possible and the seal speared in the head or as near to it as possible, because it happens now and then that the animal is only stunned by the shock and will revive. Canoes have been upset by wounded seals. Sometimes an injured seal has attempted to clamber into a canoe, probably taking it for a piece of ice. Others, when wounded, will bite at the harpoon and canoe or at anything within reach. If lightly wounded they will go out of sight in one dive, as seals are very fast swimmers and the harps will ordinarily stay under water from ten to fifteen minutes. If hard hit, they may stay under just as long, but will not go far, 134 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING apparently going down to the bottom and rolling there. On returning to the surface the head will generally be swollen and with nose pointed up- wards and eyes closed tightly, they will float, bot- tle fashion. They should then be approached very close in order to finish them, as if in poor condition they sink very fast when in that posi- tion. The harp seal has peculiarities which en- ables one to distinguish it from other varieties and to act accordingly. One of these is the queer habit it has of swimming on its back with only the tip of the nose and throat, and now and then a portion of the chest out of water. Whole herds will sometimes swim in this manner, travel- ling at the rate of ten or twelve miles an hour. It is useless to shoot at them in that position, as no vital part is exposed. A slight noise or a whis- tle, will sometimes cause them to raise the head so as to secure a shot. Another of their peculiar- ities is that of bobbing up and down three or four times in the same place and throwing the head back, frequently diving that way. They are also fond of following in the wake of a canoe, and ad- vantage is always taken of this fact. When a seal is sighted, the canoe is directed near the place where it rose, but not over it. The canoe is then turned around and backed slowly with the pad- dles, the shooter watching in the wake, and the chances are that the seal will come up in it. If very close, no movement must be made, when, SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 135 after taking a look, it will go down and reappear a little further, or if tame, possibly in the same place. The shooter, in the meantime, having raised his gun to his shoulder, gets a shot. When "harps" are on cakes of ice small pieces they are very shy, but on large fields they are easily ap- proached by walking. The most favorable time for seal shooting of "harps" is in very cold weather and early in the morning. At that time they come nearer shore to feed, and the dense va- por arising from the water makes them less wary. One must be clad as lightly as compatible with the temperature, and covered with a light white cot- ton overall. The exercise of working the canoe keeps one warm enough, and the light clothing al- lows of quicker movements, which are often neces- sary, not only in shooting, but in avoiding mis- haps. The dangers attendant on harp seal shoot- ing are getting upset by a wounded seal or in hauling a dead one aboard the canoe, getting nip- ped among pieces of moving ice, or stuck in slush ice or snow, breaking through ice while walking on it, getting frost-bitten, and the usual danger of handling firearms, with the additional risk of be- ing hit by some stray pellets of SSG from other canoes. No fatal accident has ever happened at Point des Monts that I know of, but some hunters have been wounded. The weather has also to be watched with care to avoid being caught by snowstorms or gales of wind. So my readers 136 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING will see that it is a sport with enough of variety about it to make it interesting and to necessitate keeping one's eyes open. One of my younger brothers and his partner, Chouinard, got upset two miles off Point des Monts while seal shooting some years ago. It was by the merest chance they were saved, the canoe having drifted towards a piece of ice upon which they managed to climb and empty the water out of the canoe, after which they made for shore in all haste. They did not feel much the worse for the wetting, but my brother lost his whole outfit, including my 8 bore Greener "Old Sure Kill" which I had lent him for the winter. I often think of this fine old gun and the sport I had with it, but which alas ! like McGinty, is now ' 'lying at the bottom of the sea". Owing to the low price of seal oil at the present day, few hunters now follow sealing as a business in winter. There also appears to be a great decrease in the number of the harp seal in the St. Lawrence. Its westernmost range in the River St. Lawrence is about Murray Bay. I saw a few there again last year (1908). fji> Harbor %tal (f fara tfitnlhw) Next to the "harp" in importance and numbers is the Harbor or Common Seal (Phoca vitulina), or, as it is called by the natives, the "wise seal". Seals of this variety are tolerably common in the St. Lawrence, especially in and about the estu- SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 137 aries of most of our large rivers. Their reason for frequenting these places is two-fold : first to deposit their young on the numerous shoals or sand bars, which always occur at the mouths of these rivers; secondly for food, the innumerable quantities of small fry which descends these streams, such as young trout, grilse, salmon, smelts, tommy-cods, etc., falling an easy prey to them. As a rule they always keep near the shore, being very rarely met with at any distance from it. They have a very keen sense of smell, much more so than any other seal that I know of; at least, if the others possess it equally with them, it is not so apparent. This accounts for the dis- tinction which the Indians give to it by calling it the "wise seal". With the exception of the young, they are very shy and difficult to shoot, never exposing more than a small portion of the head when in the water. Care must also be taken in approaching them to keep under their lee, while they, on their part, continually endeavor to go to leeward of the hunter. During the sum- mer months they very often get on top of some solitary rock or large stone and bask in the sun for hours. In places where they are occasionally shot at they never land or approach the shore, unless the wind is off the island, when they can soon detect the presence of man even at a distance of two or three hundred yards. Their period of gestation is probably about nine months. Of this, 138 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING however, I am not positive, as I have never had sufficient opportunity to make sure of it; but I am led to think so because they will come to a call, if properly made, during the month of September. They bring forth their young during the months of June and July, but mostly in July. The little ones are perfectly white at birth, but after a few minutes their first coat is lost and they take their true hair and color, which is whitish on the under parts and well spot- ted and marked (black and white) on the back. At the end of two or three weeks they are left to shift for themselves. They are very fat, and yield about two gallons of oil on an average, more than half their weight being fat. This coat of fat is soon lost, however, and at the end of July or early in August they have little more than four or five pounds of it left. They then feed voraciously and soon put on a sufficient layer to protect them from the winter's cold. The harbor seals do not migrate, but are here winter and summer. They are not gregarious, and in open water are seldom met in any numbers; three or four together at the most. At the time of bring- ing forth their young they congregate on sand banks or rocky islets. Numbers also assemble to rest or bask in the sun, and if disturbed, scatter in all directions. Unlike our other seals, they seem to delight in fresh water, ascending the rivers for long distances, and occasionally going SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 139 over strong rapids. On the Bersimis and Moisie Rivers, notably the first, I have seen them fifty miles up the streams. In the St. Lawrence River I saw one two miles above Three Rivers about the end of September, 1891. I have also read of the capture near Montreal on one or two occasions, of seals, which I have no doubt were of this species. Harp seals will occasionally enter the mouths of large rivers, but will not remain there, going out with the ebb tide. I suppose that it is their familiarity with weeds and fresh water plants that makes harbor seals so fearless of nets. Large numbers are captured in them, more than are killed with guns. Since the recent increase in value of their skin, they are much sought after by hunters. About three thousand are now annually taken, along the coast line of the County of Saguenay, but it is doubtful if they will stand this drain very long. In the hunters' greed for them, many are uselessly shot in fresh water, where even if tolerably fat they will sink like a stone. Regular professionals never shoot at them, except where the bottom can be plainly seen, and where it allows of them being secured with long-handled harpoons. In salt water, if in fair condition, they will float. The equip- ment for shooting them is similar to that used for the harps, care being taken to have the canoe and clothing of a color that will blend as much as pos- sible with the surroundings. Much smaller shot 140 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING is also used, numbers one and two being favorite sizes, and giving a better pattern; very neces- sary, considering that only about one inch of the skull is exposed. Some peculiarities of these seals in the water are swimming dog fashion, and when alarmed, jumping six or seven feet clear out of the water. The females will invariably alarm their young when in danger in the water, by thus jumping over them and sinking them, but there is no foun- dation for the stories that are told that they carry their young in their mouth like a cat or dog. When basking in the sun, on a rock or shoal, they will push the young over into the water with a shove of the nose, on the approach of danger. The best time of year to shoot them is during the summer months, from July to the end of October. At other times of the year, if there is any ice about, their acute hearing makes it almost im- possible to get near them. Not a word is ever spoken between the steersman and the shooter when out after them. A sign of the head or hand, or a slight shake of the canoe suffices to attract the attention of either. When one is near, the steersman alone must propel the canoe, keeping the blade of his paddle in the water all the time. As the animals are very curious, they seldom get away at the first sight of danger, but always try and get wind of the object. I was very much amused once at Little Metis, by watch- SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 141 ing a yearling harbor seal play with an empty bottle, that had been thrown overboard by one of the passengers on the yacht "Swallow." I had my rifle with me and was watching the bottle drift until it would be far enough for a decent shot. While thus occupied I saw a seal come up about thirty yards from it, sniffing and peering at it. At the next dive it came closer, going through the same performance, till at the third one it got alongside of it with a splash. It then jumped over it and poked it about with its nose, seemingly trying to get it under, until I put a stop to its antics by taking a shot and missed it. I cannot imagine what made it act so, but the passenger claimed that it was the smell of the "Kilmarnock," though I will not vouch for this. Skilful hunters lure them by imitating their call and movements, while lying on a rock or sand bar frequented by them. When well per- formed, and the hunter's back is covered with a sealskin, they will come up to within a few feet if attention is paid to the direction of the wind. About dawn is the best time for this mode of hunt- ing. To show how naturally the seals can be imitated, I may say, that even the practical eye of an Indian has been deceived. While we were living at Mingan, "Natsishuk," "The one who looks in the eye" Chief of that locality, was shot at and nearly killed by another Indian while he was thus acting seal on a rock. He was so severe- 142 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING ly wounded that he was laid up for six months. I find harbor seal shooting, as a sport, very in- teresting, the more so> as it can be followed dur- ing the pleasantest season of the year and in sheltered situations. To the novice it may be a little disappointing at first, but he must remem- ber that most sports are alike in that respect. Adult seals of this species are seldom shot, except at long ranges, with a rifle. A full grown one is about five feet long, and weighs about one hun- dred and fifty pounds, more or less, according to condition. The flesh is very highly esteemed by our " natives," while many others have a predi- lection for its liver, which I share. The livers of other species are also very palatable and not poisonous as erroneously asserted by some; the heart is also considered a tid bit. The oesophagus and stomach are used by the ' "natives" as a water- tight vessel for various purposes, oil, molasses, powder, etc., being carried in them. They are first washed and scraped, then blown and dried, after which they are ready for use. That of a large harbor seal will hold one imperial gallon, but I have seen some from the larger species that hold five or six gallons. (Srgpus ( Seals of this species are presumably so named from a slight resemblance of the head to that of the horse, especially noticeable in old males. SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 143 They are nearly as large as hooded seals. I have the measurements of two adult specimens, which I shot, as follows: One male in July, 1898, seven feet ten inches from tip of nose to end of flippers, girth four feet seven inches, and weight, in poor condition, 374 pounds. The second one was a female with young, shot on the 26th of October, 1901, at Manicouagan, while on my way to Tadousac in a canoe : length seven feet four inches, and estimated weight at about 500 pounds. The young was about two feet and a half long, and fully matured, which shows that these animals have their young in the fall and not in the spring like other species. The color of the young was like that of most other seals, yellowish white. The stomach of the female was crammed full of smelts and flounders, but I suppose this was due to the abundance of these fish more than to selection, because in other specimens I have found a larger variety of food. When they feed near rocky places, sculpins, rock eels, and lump fish seem to be their chief food. In June and July, however, they are fastidious in their tastes and feed on salmon, but not always on their own catch. The one I shot in July, 1898, had been robbing my brother's net for more than a week, and had gone through it several times. My bro- ther had fired several shots at it with a shot gun, all at long ranges, to drive it away, but it re- turned daily. I ended his tricks with a Win- 144 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING Chester Express at 150 yards. These horse-head seals do not seem to be at all frightened of nets, and at Manicouagan they are the terror of the harbor seal hunters, going through their strong nets like cobwebs. Luckily for the fisher- men of both salmon and seals, they are not very numerous, though some few are scat- tered all along the coast and around Anti- costi Island. Their chief resorts are the Mingan Islands, Cawee Islands and the Mani- couagan Shoals. But they roam much further west, as, early in October, 1886, I shot a two-year-old female, at Seal Reef (near the Pil- lars), 45 miles below Quebec. They are not suf- ficiently numerous anywhere in the Province to be of any commercial importance. Mr. J. Thi- beau, of Manicouagan, assured me that he killed one there of nine feet in length. They are very savage and fight fiercely together solely to main- tain a position on a rock or shoal. The harbor seals are often found with them, but they keep at a respectable distance. Except very late in the season, towards October, it is very difficult to save any of these seals, as they sink almost like stones when killed. The only chance is when they are in shallow water, where the bottom can be seen. They are intensely fond of keeping near the foot of cliffs or bold rocks in stormy weather, seeming to delight in the boiling sea, where one would expect them to be dashed to pieces. In SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 145 general they descend for a considerable time un- der water, and then remain on the surface, the head only showing for two or three minutes. They make no fuss in diving and never show their back like some other seals, but just slip down out of sight, as it were by their mere weight. They are never specially sought after, except out of ven- geance by the fishermen when they happen to des- troy their nets, or else if wanted as specimens for museums. I shot one for the Smithsonian Institute some years ago. The surest way to secure them is to decoy them in, near shoals, by imitating their movements and bellowing. Heavy shot or a rifle must be used and stormy weather is the best time. Their sense of smell is very keen, and care must be exercised on that point. When the deception is well performed they will actually come up on the shoal to fight the occupant. Their color varies very much, ac- cording to age. Adults are sometimes quite black on the back with lighter markings on the sides. The yearlings are yellowish with light greyish blotches on the sides and back. (Note) Since the above was written a large female of this species was killed at English Bay, Manicouagan, on the 16th October, 1908. Mr. D. Malouin, who killed it, says the foetus was about three feet long and the mother eight feet. It yielded twenty-two gallons of oil, which at twelve pounds of fat per gallon, would give 264 146 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING pounds. Judging by the ordinary proportions in well conditioned seals, this would give 600 pounds as about the total weight of the animal. The skin, which I saw a week later, was almost black on the back; foetus yellowish white. (Cgstopljora (Srrstata) This is the largest of our seals speaking from personal observation and the lion of the lot. Although specimens are to be found in the St. Lawrence at all seasons, spring is the time of greatest abundance. During the years that I was seal shooting at Pointe des Monts, small herds used to appear there about the 20th of March, gradually increasing in numbers till the same date in April, when they would begin to disperse, some moving westward as far up as Tadousac. In May a good many would be killed around Escoumains; later they scattered all over the St. Lawrence. Favorite localities were around Bic, Manicouagan, and the strong ripples of Pointe des Monts. I shot five females in one day off the Manicouagan shoals, April 6th, 1882. Three of them were of the variety called "dark," but which is only due to age, the young ones being always lighter in color. Yearlings have no spots on them, but have only a dark band on the back with yellowish sides and belly. The young are not born white, as in other species, but have a greyish colored baad on the back and sides with SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 147 under parts yellowish. A foetus taken from a female that I shot November 14th, 1893, and pre- sumably about six months old, showed the same markings. The texture of the hair was not so fine either as in the harps or harbor seal. In 1878, one whelped on the ice between Godbout and Pointe des Monts, about February 20th, and the young was as above described. It was a day or two old when found. These seals bring forth their young regularly on the ice in the gulf, and all those, or nearly all that appear off Pointe des Monts in March are females that have already deposited their young, as shown by the supply of milk in their udders, which is then still abundant. They are thin, and their stomachs and intestines are contracted and knotty. Their object in coming near land is to feed, which they do voraci- ously. Their food consists chiefly of caplin, flounders, sculpins, herring, a species of small shrimp, Norwegian haddock, &c. On such a varied and liberal diet they put on fat at about the rate of one inch per week. Only the males have hoods, and when these are inflated it gives them a very formidable appearance. They are very fierce, and will not hesitate, when wounded, to attack a hunter, on the ice, or in a canoe. As they are of an immense weight and very tenacious of life, they are no mean adver- sary. The females will seldom attack a hunter when in a canoe, but I was told that the female 148 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING killed with her young near here (Godbout) was very savage, and attacked the hunters immedia- tely. I never saw a female with her young on the ice, so I cannot speak very positively on this sub- ject. Of the fair number of females which I have shot in the water about one hundred and twenty only three or four made any serious show of fight. The length of an adult male is eight to nine feet, judging from some I killed, but my brother Edmond, who was a professional seal hunter, claims to have killed one that was eleven feet four inches long. Although not very fat it yielded five hundred and twenty pounds of oil. The two largest I ever killed weighed about one thousand pounds, judging from the amount of their oil, but my brother's must have reached near- ly twelve hundred pounds. The average adult fe- male, when in good condition, yields 30 to 40 gal- lons of oil, and weighs around eight hundred pounds. These seals are in primest condition about December, when they begin to seek pieces of ice near the entrances of our large rivers, such as the Bersimis, Outardes, and Manicouagan, and let themselves drift on it for days without feed- ing. Nothing smaller than S.S.G. shot is used here, and twenty yards is a good range. They are never shot at in the nose or facing the shooter, except if the head is high enough out of water to expose the throat. A side shot or one in the back of the head is the surest. On calm or warm days SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING 149 they lie at full length on the surface of the water apparently sleeping. I have often approached to within a few feet of them when in that position. Others will sleep at least the eyes are closed in a perpendicular position, and at such times afford easy and sure shots. Some, on sighting a canoe, will rush towards it, snorting and making the water fly, and only stopping when fired at. These are the kind one has to be careful of. It is wonderful to see how active such a mass of fat and flesh can sometimes be. In fine weather I have frequently timed them, and found they could remain under water twenty to thirty minutes. To be very exact, twenty-seven minutes was the longest I timed. When a large "hood" is killed, two canoes join to drag it ashore, or to a nearby piece of ice, where it is hauled up with the steel hooks, the blubber and skin removed in one piece and the carcass thrown away. If it has to be towed far, a small hole is punctured in the chest, and inflated by blowing into it, so that there is less drag and no danger of losing it in case it gets by accident out of the hook. Some years ago many schooners went out sealing from Natashquan and Esquimaux Point. Some of their captains told me that when any large hoods were sighted, on loose pans of ice, they never at- tempted to go near them with their canoes or small flat boats, but would sail down on them 150 SEALS AND SEAL SHOOTING with the vessel. Five or six of the hunters would then take their position near the bow, and while the seal's attention would be directed to the mass of canvas above him, a whole broadside would be fired at ten or fifteen yards. For some years past I have not been able to devote any time to seal shooting, but I have heard from others that the number of hoods has very much decreased near PointedesMonts owing, it is believed, to the num- bers now killed in the Gulf by Newfoundland sealing steamers. I should be very sorry to see them disappear from our waters, because they are fearless and plucky, and in my estimation, as game animals, far ahead of any black bears I have ever met. >lb^ime Caribou 3 WAS trapping one winter near "Shetaga- mau," a large lake at the head of the Tota- nustuk River. My brother Firmin was my "pard" that year. There were several families of Indians in the vicinity, and though we had seen some of their signs, we had not met them. About the end of January we received a visit from two of them old Pierre Uapistan " The Marten ' ' and one of the Ashinis. We spread out a good meal for them, and after supper the old man explained that he was getting up a cari- bou battue. They knew where there was a large herd, and he was then getting together all the men available in the neighborhood for a big hunt. Would we join ? A fair share would be distributed to us, whether we killed any or not. If we were willing to go, a young man would come for us when ready. I agreed to go with my brother. Some ten days later the youngster came as promised and we accompanied him back to their permanent camp, about twenty miles north-east of our's. I believe I was then the only person on the coast who owned a rifle, a Ken- tucky Ballard, which I had taken with me, and one box of fifty cartridges. My brother had a Hudson's Bay 24 bore flint lock, that had been 152 AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT converted into a percussion cap gun. We found several families of Indians at the camping ground , and there were two or three others near at hand. We were about four miles from the range where the caribou were feeding, and pre- parations had already been made to round them up by having a lot of small black spruce trees planted near the entrance of a lake, about three miles long. Gaps had been left here and there about one hundred yards wide, at each of which a hunter was to be stationed, forming, when the inlet would be closed, a regular pound, the cor- ral of the West. We had to wait two days for suitable weather strong wind and snow. Be- fore daylight the leaders were off, and the balance were stationed by old Pierre near the inlet and on the sides of the pound. The idea was for the leading hunters to get beyond the caribou, and coming back on them, drive them down to the inlet, and so on to the lake, which they would naturally make for, to escape the deep snow. The hunters driving the caribou were to shoot all they could in the drive, but those stationed at the inlet were not to fire a shot before the last caribou of the herd had gone past them, which would thus place the whole herd in a circle of about six hundred yards wide. It was a well ar- ranged plan. I was the second gun at the inlet, with my brother next to me. At about an hour after daylight we began to hear the first shots AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT 153 gradually drawing nearer, till half an hour later the herd burst into view, on the inlet ice, making the snow fly like miniature snow ploughs. I have seen some fair herds of buffalo, elk and ante- lopes, but somehow they did not make so pretty a sight as these caribou, possibly owing to the dif- ference in the surroundings and to the snow. There were about one hundred and sixty in the herd, and as soon as the last one had passed the gap at the inlet the shooting began. Catching a sight of the spruce trees and hearing the reports coming from all quarters, the caribou bunched up on the lake, the leading hunters joining in the shooting as they came up in the rear. The fusilade was now a continuous one. Now and then, as a cari- bou dropped, others would come up and sniff at it, only to meet the same fate. A rush of the herd would sometimes be made, only to be turned by more shots from in front of them. This would have continued until the last animal was killed, but for an untoward circumstance. A caribou was struck by a bullet near the eye, which stunned it, knocking it down. A minute or two later it re- covered consciousness and got up, walking half dazed and bleeding towards one of the hunters stationed around the pound, one Michel Ashini, a young hunter of about eighteen. Possibly believing it to be more seriously wounded that was his version but more probably to show off his skill as a hunter and runner, he left his gun 154 AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT at his stand and went forward to meet and brain the wounded animal with his tomahawk. Unfor- tunately for Michel, the animal was too quick for him. Taking a jump it rushed past him like a steam engine and out through the gap he had left open. In a few seconds all the others had followed suit, and were dashing down the lake like a cloud. Seventy-six lay dead inside the pound, and five had been killed in the drive down by the leaders. We were about sixteen guns in all, and some three hundred shots were fired. My share was thirty-eight. The shooting was within a radius of half a mile, and not a scratch was re- ceived by anyone, which shows how careful all the shooters were. The whole hunt, including the drive, had lasted about two hours. Some of the young bloods were despatched to the camps, and returned with the squaws, and the cut- ting and skinning began. Three only were cut up for the evening meal and breakfast next morning, but all were gutted and placed in double rows, and then covered with snow to prevent freezing, as the real work of cut- ting up and dividing would only take place next day, for instead of hauling all this meat to camp, the latter was shifted to the meat. The head, heart, liver and kidneys, are generally all eaten fresh, but the tongues and the meat are smoked and dried, the flesh being cut in long, thin strips. The intestines are cleaned and filled with all the AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT 156 shreds and scraps of fat, making a sort of sau- sage, which is also smoked. The stomach is emp- tied of about half its contents of partly digested moss, and all the blood that it is possible to col- lect from the animal, is dipped out of the chest cavity and poured into it and the orifices tied up. It is then hung up inside of the camp, where it is exposed to the heat of the camp fire. Fermen- tation soon takes place and it begins to swell with the gas. The squaw then pierces it with a wooden skewer and allows the air to escape. In about a week it dries into a red brick-colored mass, and is ready for use. A few eat it in this dry state, but the usual way is to make it into a stew. Water is set to boil, a piece of this com- position of moss, blood and caribou hair is then broken into it and flour added until it becomes of the proper consistency. It is then eaten like soup. All the bones, principally the leg ones, are then collected and broken with an axe, and set to boil in a large kettle. As much of the whole marrow as comes to the surface in boiling is col- lected and laid aside to cool. The boiling of the bones then continues for several hours, generally all night. In the morning it is placed outside, where the fat usually comes to the surface and solidifies. It is then skimmed, more bones put in and the same process gone over. When suffi- cient fat and marrow are collected to make a large cake, they are melted, the marrow chopped into bits 156 AN OLD-TIME CARIBOU HUNT and then poured into a birch bark mould to cool. A god sized cake will weigh about ten to fifteen pounds, as white as driven snow, with the bits of marrow looking like raisins in it, and it is really delicious eating. After the meat is dry, the strips are packed and pressed down into a par- cel of about sixty pounds, then wrapped up in thin birch bark and laid aside till required. It will keep good for two years or more, the outside, only, becoming a little blue-moulded, as is seen on hams or bacon at times. We spent a week with these Indians, and had a good time, eating lots of venison and watching all these different operations. How many caribou we killed be- tween my brother and I we shall never know, but in the division of the spoils by the head man, old Pierre, my share was set down as two. It was all neatly cut up and partly dried for us, and a bit of fat cake added. We made no claim for the stomach pudding. Citrtlt^ft kin IHattktf; Hutu it is jtilabt, I do not believe there is anything in creation so warm for its weight as this kind of blanket. For com- fort I would sooner have one of them than six ordinary woollen ones. A pair of four or four and a half points old style H. B. Co. blankets used to weigh about fourteen pounds. A hare skin of the same size will weigh about five. One hundred hare skins are required to make a blan- ket of the above size, but twenty- five is sufficient to begin the work, and a little is added from time to time as the skins are secured. On skinning the hare the skin is left with the fur inside and al- lowed to dry, by hanging outside. If dried in the heat of the camp it gets burned and breaks. The same will apply to all kinds of fur. They should never be exposed to the heat of a fire or to the sun. The skins are moistened and set up on the rounded head of a stake, covered with some WHAT TO DO IF LOST IN THE WOODS 233 soft substance, to allow the skin to rotate. With a sharp knife it is then cut into strips of an inch wide, beginning at the hind part and working around till the neck is reached, when it is cut off and the head thrown away. This will make a strip of about eight feet long for each skin. This skin, while still fresh and moist, is twisted around rope fashion and laid aside. To twist it easily, one end is secured, and a small rounded stick with a split in one end to hold the strip, is applied at the other extremity, and then twirled around between the hands, or betwen the hand and thigh. The knitting is done on the fingers in the same way as a net is made, and when com- pleted one can just push the fingers through the meshes. In common with many other things, a hare skin blanket has its good and bad points. Its advantages are its warmth, lightness and cheapness, and the fact that it can be made in the woods. Its disadvantages are the readiness with which it tears, and the fact that it cannot be washed or cleaned. We used to throw it away after our hunt was over, and make a new one the following season. Some years when hares are abundant, a hundred or so can be snared by one man in three or four days. In an old brule a burnt forest covered with second growth I once shot fifty-two in one afternoon. Shooting, how- ever, is seldom practiced as it is considered a waste of ammunition in the woods, snaring being the usual method of capture. tfte ftt Hatorence have been so many versions of this ex- perience of our's, all more or less true, that I have decided to give my readers a plain and simple narrative of the occurrence. I am very fond of seal shooting, and aside from its pecuniary returns, I consider it really good sport. In pursuit of it I went down to Pointe des Monts early in January, 1886. We my eldest brother Isaie and myself had very good luck, having killed fourteen seals in one week's shooting, and were then waiting for a favorable day to return home to Godbout. On the 18th and 19th we had a strong east wind and a heavy fall of snow, clearing up slightly on the evening of the last date. North-easterly winds come a little off shore, along the cliffs, between Pointe des Monts and Godbout and drive the ice away from the land. We therefore had some hope of getting up to Godbout early on the 20th, and I wired my wife to expect me for breakfast if the weather continued fine. We left Pointe des Monts at 3 a.m. as intended. It was quite calm and mild for a winter day. My object in leaving so early was to try to reach Godbout before the westerly wind arose, for I expected it would be a strong gale, as the barometer had been falling steadily. ' Point* des MonU Light- House. Flaying a Seal. Entrance or the Mistassini River ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 235 We proceeded along shore in pretty clear water, now and then meeting a stray piece of ice, and made five miles, when we met a solid barrier of slush ice mixed snow and water extending as far out as we could see in the dim light. We lay near this ice for some time, waiting for day- light, in case we might see some opening in the ice which we could pass through. When it became clear enough, we saw that it was impossible to reach Godbout. The tide was also falling and this slush ice was getting thicker all the time, so that the easiest and best thing to do was to return to Pointe des Monts, as it was clear in that direction. The currents are very strong here, nearly al- ways down the river, and they vary in strength, according to the winds, running from one and a half to two and a half knots per hour. They are deflected by the land to the westward, and diverted into a S. E. direction, thus forming east of Pointe des Monts, an immense eddy. Thus on the east of the point there is a strong flood with a corres- ponding strong ebb west of it. East of the Point the ice and slush was jammed right up to the shore and moving west. In the open space of water outside the Point was a canoe manned by two brothers, Francis and Alfred Labrie ,who were hunting seals. They had shot at a seal and wounded it and were busy chasing it when we neared Pointe des Monts on 236 ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE our return. They were then about one mile and a half off shore, in a bay formed by the jagged edge of the ice that was coming from the west and inside of them, and nearly meeting that from the east. I saw at a glance that this channel of clear water was closing fast, and waved to them a dan- ger signal with my paddle. They were so occu- pied with their chase of the wounded seal, how- ever, that they did not notice me. In the mean- time we had gradually neared this gap, which was rapidly closing upon them. To make things worse the wind was rising fast and threat- ened a gale. One canoe alone, closed in that slush, meant certain death : for two there was a chance of getting out. Turning to my brother, I said, "What do you say to going in and helping them?" "Do what you think best," was his answer. We pushed out and one minute later the ice closed behind us. The Labries had now realized their danger, and were rowing towards us with all their might. Steadily the ice came down, in- creasing the width of the barrier behind us, and the wind and current setting us out from shore. When the canoe joined us the open space of water was reduced to a few hundred yards with a quar- ter mile barrier of slush ahead of us. A few minutes later we were quite surrounded. Paddling or rowing in slush ice is an impos- sible thing. The canoe sticks fast in it and will ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 237 not move, and though it may vary in thickness from six to seven inches to as many feet, one can- not walk on it. The only means of advance in such a case is to work the canoes in the manner termed by seal hunters "ladder work," which is accomplished in the following manner : All the four men get into one canoe. The light and emp- ty one is then drawn up alongside and pushed forwards its whole length. The men then all get into it, while the other is in turn drawn up and the same thing repeated over and over again. Twelve feet are thus gained each time. It is slow and laborious work, but it has been the salvation of many a canoe's crew. In our case it failed owing to the gale of northwest wind and the heavy current. For three hours we worked steadily at this "ladder work/' losing ground all the time, till we gave it up as a useless expenditure of strength. A canoe manned by another brother of mine Peter and a young hunter named M. Boucher, made a desperate attempt to come out to us, but the gale had increased so much that they had to turn back. When we ceased work we were more than four miles out. In the canoes we were very much exposed to the cold wind and badly cramped up, besides which I was soaking wet. Here and there amongst the slush were pieces of solid ice. We therefore went to work again to reach such a 238 ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE piece, and hauled up our canoes on it. It was about fifty feet long by twenty or so wide, and thick enough to be solid. We laid one of the canoes on its keel crossways to the wind, driving our harpoons in the ice to hold it against the gale. The second canoe we turned on its side behind the other, banking up the ends and sides with pieces ol ice and snow, which we handled with our pad- dles. We had now some slight shelter from the bit- ing wind. The cold was also increasing. This work on the ice had warmed us up a little and I took advantage of this to strip and wring out my trousers and socks, as in attempting to haul the canoe over a piece of ice I had broken through and gone into the water up to the waist. All we could do just then was to tramp around, beat our hands and try to keep warm. I soon warmed myself up in this manner and urged the others to do the same. The ice driven off shore by the gale opened a broad lane of open water to the north of us. This gave us a ray of hope- Should the wind calm down we still might have a chance in that direction. We had no food of any kind with us and during the whole day I had kept my gun and rifle handy in case a seal should show up within range. We saw a few, but at a long distance, but my pa- tience was rewarded by getting a shot at a flock of long-tailed ducks old squaws and I brought ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 239 down three, which we secured. They were a God-send to us. My brother was suffering from cold feet and hands. I plucked the feathers, warm and dry and stuffed his mittens and shoes with them, the two Labries using in the same way what little was left. The meat I put in my car- tridge bag in reserve. All that day we held on to our piece of ice. The wind had increased to a strong gale and the weather clearing, it got intensely cold. (It registered that evening at Pointe des Monts, 15 below zero) . At sunset we were about 14 miles S.-E. of Pointe des Monts. Mr. Fafard, the lighthouse keeper, had very thoughtfully kindled the light for us, in case we might require it as a guide to the shore. For a while it showed us our position, but at eight o'clock we lost sight of it. The ever-increasing width of open water to the N--W. of us was now sufficiently long to raise a good sea and we began to feel the roll, till near 10 p.m. it became so heavy that the sea washed over our piece of ice. The open water was then close to us. I estimated we were then 18 miles S--E. of Pointe des Monts. Our only safety now lay in getting deeper into the ice towards the South Shore. The canoes were got ready and we shoved on south- wards. For awhile we resumed the "ladder work" . Then as we got further south, the ice got firmer with the cold, and began to bear us, and we dragged the canoes. An hour later we struck 240 [ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE a lane of open water. It ran about S.-W. from us and was nearly four miles long. We rowed as hard as we could to warm ourselves up. This lane finally narrowed down to nothing and we had to get on the ice and drag the canoes again. It was awfully hard work and we made slow pro- gress; as nearly as I could judge about one mile an hour. The ice formation was different also, being much thicker, and the rasping and creaking of it was something terrible. Ridges would form in a few seconds and of these we had to be careful so as not to have our canoes caught and crushed. It must have been jamming somewhere about that time, because after a while its motion ceased, and we crossed two or three small lanes of open water, when the dragging of the canoes was resumed. We worked this in spells of ten minutes with an intervening rest of five minutes. During the first part of the dragging we had thrown away every- thing not absolutely required, the boat anchors, one harpoon, knee pads which being soaked were useless our steel hook, all the bottom boards and about one hundred and fifty cartridges, keeping twenty-five in case of need. The wind had not at all abated, but as we got to the south- ward it became more westerly and increased our drift eastwards very perceptibly. Allowance had to be made for it, by working more westerly. This increased our distance considerably, but was the only way to avoid being swept down below ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 241 Cape Chatte or Cape Ste. Anne, where the river widens out very much. About 5 a.m. we met a large hummock of ice and got under shelter of it for a rest. My bro- ther and I had had nothing to eat or drink for thirty-six hours nor the Labries for twenty- tour. They had taken breakfast before going out. I did not feel the hunger much, but I was very thirs- ty, as were all the others, and occasionally they would eat a little snow on the sly, as I would not permit it, the effect being very bad and weaken- ing. Here we divided two of the ducks for our breakfast "harelda glacialis" au naturel. It was very fine, but I thought our cook might have left out the glacialis. However, we partly got over this by holding it under the arm inside of our coats, for some minutes. We felt refreshed with this slight moal and the canoe dragging was re- newed. At daylight I caught sight of Cape Chatte, about twelve miles distant, and bearing S.-E. from us and this was comforting to me, as show- ing that we had held our own against the drift. As far as I could see, the ice, although most of it in broken pieces, was solidly packed. It was an older formation too, as there was snow on it,, making the dragging very heavy. Our progress became slower, and my companions showed signs of exhaustion. With the rising of the sun the wind had increased, driving the cold through us. 242 ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE My brother and Francis Labrie were suffering very much from it, their faces and hands getting frost-bitten, so that every now and then they had to be rubbed to restore the circulation. When I called a rest, they would drop down in the canoe and want to sleep. It was with considerable trouble that they were kept awake. So far we had dragged the two canoes in case of meeting weak ice, but owing to the exhausted condition of these two members of our party, it was impossible to continue it, so we abandoned mine, as being slightly heavier. We also left be- hind, our two pairs of oars, reserving only one paddle for each. Tying the rope of the steel hook on each side of the remaining canoe, my brother and Francis could help in the dragging; Alfred, who held out better than his brother, helping me at the bow. All through that day it was the same weary drag, with an occasional few yards of open water, and gradually the shore loomed up. I had much trouble keeping my brother awake and his hands from freezing. Alfred also showed signs of exhaustion and his hands were getting frost-bitten also. At 2.30 p.m. we drifted past Cape Chatte about two miles distant. Inside, along the shore, I could see a lane of open water. I urged them all to make an effort for an hour to reach this. I think it was the longest hour of all, but we made it, and our canoe was afloat once more. Except for a thin ice on the surface, ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 243 it was now clear right up to the shore at Ste. Anne Point, which was the nearest land, about one and a quarter mile distant. We were so tired that the paddling of this short distance occupied nearly an hour and we landed just as darkness came on. To try and attract the attention of the people on shore I had fired ten or twelve shots as we ap- proached and although they were heard, no at- tention had been paid to them, as the shooting was supposed to come from some of the shore peo- ple. It felt good to step on land again. My brother was very cold, perfectly chilled by sitting in the canoe, where I could not give him much attention, having to paddle and steer. His hands, face and feet were badly frost-bitten, and the Labrie broth- ers had their faces and hands frozen. We had landed opposite a farm house occupied by Mrs. G. Tanguay and her three children, two young girls and a boy the eldest of the family about 12 years old. The little chap, happening to be playing in the road, saw us landing, and I also got a glimpse of him as he ran away. Rushing into the house he told his mother that four drunk- en Indians were coming up to the house. He had seen me with my fringed buckskin coat helping my brother up and the two Labries staggering behind us. It was no wonder that he thought we were drunk! Reaching the door I knocked and received no answer. The light had been put out 244 ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE and the door barricaded. I called loudly in French and heard one of the girls who had been peeping at us, say, "They are not Indians." Mrs. Tanguay then came to the door and after a question as to who we were, the door was opened. The poor woman on seeing our condition was ex- ceedingly grieved to have kept us waiting and she hustled around, taking off our ice-covered cloth- ing, to make up for it. A neighbour was sent for to help in rubbing the frost-bitten men. In the meantime our hostess set to work making pan- cakes for our supper. I told her she need not bother about them for the moment. They had no tea, so we took some hot milk and water and a piece of toasted bread and butter. We wrapped up my brother in a warm blanket and put him to bed, as he was completely played out. The boy, and one of the neighbours, hauled up our canoe and took up our guns and snowshoes my bro- ther's and mine for the Labries had none. After this was all kindly attended to, I enquired about the telegraph office and was told that it was about two miles further east, and that the road, owing to the recent gale, was very bad, and be- sides this that Mrs. T. had no horse. Being very anxious to send news to all our relatives, I decid- ed to go on my snowshoes and save time. I was very warmly received by the Agent, Mr. T. J. Lamontagne, and the telegrams were sent imme- diately. He also insisted upon driving me back ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 245 in his cariole to Mrs. Tanguay's, for which I felt very graceful, as well as for his very kind offer of funds to meet our return expenses to Quebec, and of a drive to Cape Chatte the next day, where I wanted to make arrangements for horses and sleighs to drive us up. The Labries had also an uncle residing there, whom we wanted to see. My brothers and Labries were sleeping when I re- turned and I found a bed ready for me, but instead of occupying it, I sat on a chair near the stove and dropped asleep. I did not go to bed at all that night, but sitting in the chair I woke now and then and would take a few strides in the house, sit down and go off to sleep again. Next morning I felt no effects of the trip at all and had been lucky in escaping without a frost bite. The news of our arrival on the South Shore spread like wild-fire and about nine a.m. Mr. Antoine Labrie came down for his nephews. Ac- cording to his promise, Mr. Lamontagne came to drive me up to Cape Chatte and advanced me one hundred dollars for our expenses. At Cap Chatte I arranged for three sleighs, on one of which we fitted a sort of padded box seat, in which we strapped my brother when we travelled. His hands and feet were so swollen that he could neither walk nor help himself. While at Cape Chatte we were most hospitably entertained by Mr. Antoine Labrie. He insisted on our remain- ing two days with him to recuperate and to allow of the roads getting somewhat better, which I 246 ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE thought was very sensible advice. He and the Messrs. Blanchet, Fournier and Gagne drove us to Metis, making no charge beyond their expenses and that of the horses ; and I could not in any way prevail upon them to accept a small remuneration. It was really most generous on their part, as it occasioned them the loss of more than a week's time. About 8.30 p.m., on the first evening we were at Cape Chatte, a messenger came in saying that I was wanted at the telegraph office. On reach- ing it I found that the possibility of our having reached the South Shore in such weather seemed so extraordinary that the genuineness of the tele- grams sent had been doubted, our friends fearing that they had been forwarded merely to pave the way for worse news later. Seeing this, Mr. Edwin Pope, Manager of the G.N.W. Telegraph Company, at Quebec, had personally arranged a connection of the different lines and the placing of a repeating instrument in Quebec, to give us a telegraphic connection clear through to Godbout, so that I could communicate with my wife, who is also an operator. How considerate this was on the part of Mr. Pope and all concerned, I leave to my readers to judge ! The combination repre- sented nearly a thousand miles of wire, and over this my wife and I exchanged greetings and I gave her a brief account of our trip and our then condition and intentions. The wire was left at our disposal for an hour. Return IE remained two days at Cape Chatte guests of Mr. Antoine Labrie, and early on the third morning, everything being ready, we start- ed with four of the best horses that could be pro- cured. Just before leaving the village, one of the drivers asked me if I did not think it would be prudent, in case of necessity, to get a bottle of brandy. I answered that personally I did not require any, but that if others thought it neces- sary he might buy a bottle, for which I handed him $1.25. Then he remarked that he could not procure it unless he was sick, but that as I was a stranger and had a sick brother, the Cure would give me the necessary certificate. As we had to pass the good Cure's door, I called on him and was given a slip of paper initialed and marked broadly with a paint brush in red, and with this document my driver was given the desired art- icle at the medical depot. It was surprising to see how chilled the drivers became, two or three times that day, driving against a strong westerly wind. It took us three hours and a half to reach Capucins, a small settlement ten miles west of Cape Chatte, where we had lunch and gave the horses a rest, and in the evening we reached Mechins, making a total of twenty-five miles for 248 OUR RETURN JOURNEY the day, which, considering the awful condition of the roads, we thought satisfactory. We put up for the night at a farm house, Mr. Letour- neau's, where we were very kindly treated and for supper had some fine caribou steaks, one of the sons having killed a couple of caribou in the vicinity while cutting wood. I was told that they frequently came down to the settlements. There was still in use in this house an old- fashioned iron lamp, shaped like a pitch ladle, and burning common train oil. It was a sort of two story affair, the under portion being intended to receive the drippings. The handle, which was bent, was secured to a double wooden ratchet by which it could be raised or lowered at pleasure. The ceiling of the house and the rafters were the color of the top masts of a collier. After a little persuasion, I induced the old lady to part with it for an ordinary coal oil lamp and two gallons of oil, and this old relic now adorns a private collec- tion. From Mechins west the roads were somewhat better and less hilly and we had lunch at Pointe a la Baleine. This was a sort of regular stopping place, and Mrs. P., who kept the house, insist- ed on treating my brother and the drivers to a nice hot drink of what she called " whisky blanc," but which was, I suspected, of her own manufac- ture. It had a smell of turpentine, sulphuric acid and pepper combined, and must have been very OUR RETURN JOURNEY 249 warming stuff indeed. I took advantage of the first chance I had to pour my brother's portion in- to a slop pail. When she saw the empty tin cup a few minutes later she expressed the hope it would " do the poor young man a lot of good." Early that evening we reached Matane, where we put up for the night, having travelled about thirty-six miles. We were now getting into a more densely populated section and the roads were fair. We left Matane early and reached the I.C.R. station at Summit, Metis, about 4 p.m., making our best day's drive about 45 miles. I found several telegrams awaiting me here, amongst them one from the late Colonel Allan Gilmour, of Ottawa, congratulating us upon our safe arrival on the South Shore and advising me to draw on him for one hundred dollars to pay our expenses up to Quebec, a very liberal and most welcome gift at that moment. A second message was from a personal friend in Quebec, advising us to wait at Metis till the next day, as he was trying to get us a free passage over the I. C. Ry. However, my brother's condition would not allow of any delay and I preferred to pay our fares and to hurry up. It was as well that we did, as I heard afterwards that my friend's request had not been granted. We put up at a small boarding house near the station, kept by a Mr. Beaulieu, who did all he could to make us comfortable. A young gentle- 250 OUR RETURN JOURNEY man whom I took for a commercial traveller, was boarding there. He appeared to take a great deal of interest in the narrative of our trip dur- ing the evening and sympathized very much with my brother's sufferings. Next morning as we were getting ready to leave, he accosted me and said, "Look here my friend, I am a poor man and can only spare twenty dollars, but if you are in need of them, here they are, so make use of them for your companions and yourself." I was so surprised at this generous offer from a perfect stranger, that for a moment I could not answer. I thanked him very much for his good intentions and his great kindness, but told him that for the present we were not in sufficient need to justify my acceptance of his very generous offer. Upon enquiry I found that this gentle- man's name was Gauvreau, and that he was a stationer from Quebec. I could not obtain his initials, nor have I met him since, but if these lines should strike his eye some day, I wish to thank him again. The conductor of the I. C. Ey. train that day, Mr. Couturier, of Levis, was very obliging to us in getting a double seat arranged like a bed, where my brother could lie down and be more comfortable. At Trois Pistoles Station some nice hot broth and toast were brought on the train for my brother, and the rest of us were served with re- freshments by Mr. Dery and his family, for which OUR RETURN JOURNEY 251 no remuneration would be accepted. We arrived at Levis after dark, and learned that owing to the condition of the ice there would be no ferry boat that night, so I had to seek lodgings in the meantime. In an adjacent hotel, after consid- erable haggling, I secured a small room in the upper portion of the house, which was very in- convenient, as my brother being too weak and suf- fering too much to walk, we had to carry him. We had tea and breakfast there, for which we were charged the modest sum of six dollars and fifty cents! Whatever may have been this good landlord's qualities, humanity did not seem to be his failing. We really could not complain much, for in all our trip, which occupied a month, this was the only exception to the generosity that marked our homeward trip. About 8.30 a.m., the ice permitting, we crossed over to Quebec and were met at the ferry landing by many friends and sympathizers, chief among whom were Colonel Vohl, Messrs. A. Fraser, J. Holliday, E. Beaudet, E. N. Chinic, Arthur Turcotte, Ed. Giroux, L. Noel, C. Bergevin, A. Toussaint, J. G. Bruneau, G. VanFelson, Wm. Doyle and others. After many handshakes and congratula- tions, we were driven up to the residence of Mr. Noel, an intimate friend of the family, where my brother and two companions were taken care of, Colonel Vohl insisting upon my being his guest during our stay in Quebec. Dr. M. J. Ahern 252 OUR RETURN JOURNEY was called in and attended to my brother's feet and hands, and, later on. assisted by Dr. Catel- lier, performed the necessary amputations. He also prescribed for young Labrie, who was suffer- ing from a severe cold. Mr. Noel would not allow my brother to go to the hospital at all, and certain- ly nothing could exceed the care and attention be- stowed on him by Mrs. Noel and her family. Be- tween Dr. Ahern's skilful treatment and Mrs. Noel's good nursing, my brother recovered, but it was three months before he could go home. In about a week young Labrie was sufficiently well to return home with me, but he never entirely recov- ered from the effects of that trip. We remained a week in Quebec, and while there were the recipients of much kindness and many attentions. I had the honor of being present- ed to Lieut. -Governor Masson, and of receiving at his hands a handsome silver medal and clasp. A special report of our experience on the ice was sent to the Marquis of Lansdowne by Sir Hector Langevin and Mr. J. U. Gregory, and, most pro- bably through this representation I had the honor of receiving, a few weeks later, the bronze medal of the Royal Humane Society. Some months afterwards my brother and I received, through tEeir general delegate in Canada, F. R. E. Cam- peau, Esq., the diploma and medal of the Societe des Chevaliers Sauveteurs des Alpes Mari- time, of Nice, and the Dominion Government pre- OUR RETURN JOURNEY 263 sented us each with a pair of binoculars with an appropriate inscription ; honors, I thought, out of all proportion to the simple act of duty we had performed. The reporters of the different local papers chased us around to get some details of our trip, but as I was averse to having these made public, I managed to give them the slip several times, for which I ask their forgiveness to-day. We had now a three hundred miles journey be- fore us and as soon as the two Labries were suf- ficiently recovered we left Quebec. We bought some snowshoes and other necessary articles for the trip, and as our funds had been exhausted on the way from Cape Chatte to Levis, several of the leading citizens of Quebec subscribed to form a purse of one hundred and ten dollars, which was presented to us to defray the expenses of our homeward journey. Owing to the generous de- sire of nearly everybody to help us along, this sum proved more than ample. It paid for our outfit and travelling expenses and left suffi- cient to pay the doctor's bill and other small ex- penses for my brother in Quebec. It need scarce- ly be remarked, therefore, that Dr. Ahern's bill was far from being a heavy one. Truly of him it may be said, "his left hand does not know what his right hand doeth." At 11 a.m. on Sunday, February 7th, we left Quebec on snowshoes, getting on the ice near the C. P. R. station, and heading direct for Chateau 254 OUR RETURN JOURNEY Eicher. A number of our friends came down to the river to see us off, and as we passed down Pal- ace Hill, a number of Irish boys cheered us. Thus amid many good wishes we left old Quebec behind us! We reached Chateau Richer about 1 p.m. As young Labrie was getting somewhat tired and thirsty, we decided to take a short rest and get a cup of tea. We each carried a gun the sealing guns we were taking back and a pack of about 18 Ibs. We were directed in answer to our en- quiries to a boarding house kept by Mr. Lefran- cois. As we entered I think our armed appear- ance did not impress him very favorably. I asked if we could have a cup of tea. "Well," he said, " it's Sunday, and after usual meal hours, but I will see my wife and let you know." In about five minutes he returned, ana I saw by his looks that there was not much prospect of getting any- thing. Without referring to my question he sat down and asked where we came from and why we carried so many guns. I answered that we had come from Quebec that morning, but that we belonged to the North Shore and were going home. "Why!" he exclaimed, "is it possible that you are the men who suffered so much in crossing the St. Lawrence f He had no sooner received our answer than he rushed off and called his wife to introduce us to her and then told her to hurry up and get us OUR RETURN JOURNEY 255 something to eat. We were served with an excel- lent dinner in quick time. At his request we gave him a short narrative of our trip. He asked me for my brother's address in Quebec and I heard later that he paid him two or three visits- Very much to his regret we refused his kind offer to stay there overnight, as we wanted to reach Ste. Anne, where I had already arranged for a driver. We could not persuade Mr. Lefrancois to accept anything for his trouble, so thanking him for his kindness we bade him good-bye. Mr. Xavier Pare, our driver, had agreed to take us from Ste. Anne to Murray Bay for the small sum of twelve dollars. When we reached Ste. Anne he explained he was charging us very little more than his expenses for the trip, and that he hoped we would not object to walking a lit- tle where the hills were bad. We readily agreed, being quite accustomed to walking, but the next day we found that it was practically all hills and that we were walking all the time, to which I did not object, as I was really more comfortable walk- ing than sitting quiet in the cariole, and getting benumbed with the cold. The roads were so bad that it was night before we reached Baie St. Paul. We put up at a hotel kept by a Mr. Bois. During the evening he asked me many questions about my family and where we had lived on the North Shore. I thought he was rather in- quisitive, but as I had nothing to hide I gave him 256 OUR RETURN JOURNEY the desired information, and also, as usual at every place at which we stopped, an account of our experience on the ice. Next morning we were called up at 5 a.m., as our driver wanted to reach Murray Bay and return that day. We found a nice breakfast awaiting us, and our guns, snow- shoes and packs all ready in the cariole. I thought to myself he may be inquisitive, but he knows what travelling is. As soon as we were ready to start I asked him for our bill. "My dear friend/ 5 he answered, "I have something to tell you. Twenty-six years ago I was down on the North Shore in connection with a wrecked ves- sel. Being a perfect stranger there, your father very kindly put me up for a couple of days. When I came to settle with him, he answered that he did not keep a boarding house. Well, to-day, I don't keep one for his son!" Pressing my hand he bade us ban voyage. This was gratitude of a kind that does a fellow's heart good! At Murray Bay we met with a warm reception from the Mayor, Mr. Kane, Messrs. Angers, Cimon, P. and Elie Mattais and other citizens. While there we were the guests of Mr. Elie Mat- tais. These good people would not allow us to hire any vehicles, but carioles to drive us down to Ste. Catherine's Bay were placed at our dis- posal by the gentlemen above named. I ;$hall al- ways remember with pleasure the day we spent there. OUR RETURN JOURNEY 257 Captain Zic Gagne was my driver and he owned a splendid black horse which he handled like his schooner, bnt with this difference: that as he could not take any reefs in the horse, he upset me twice on the way by carrying too much sail ! He was a furious driver and I felt easier when we were over the seven hills of Port au Persil. Here we were the guests of Captain Wm. McClaren, an old acquaintance of mine, and for many years in charge of Judge (now Sir Elzear) Taschereau's yacht. We made an early start, and as the roads were too bad for fast driving, we had no more upsets, and reached Ste. Catharine's at half-past two p.m., where I had the good luck to meet a friend and confrere, Mr. Gabriel Boulianne, a noted porpoise and seal hunter. Mrs. Boulianne had a good lunch ready for us and shortly afterwards the weather and tide being favorable, Mr. B. fer- ried us over to Tadousac in his canoe. Like many others of his calling, Mr. Boulianne has had many narrow escapes while chasing por- poises and seals. On one occasion he and his eld- est brother were upset in their canoe by a wound- ed porpoise. His brother was drowned, and he himself rescued in an exhausted condition. An- other time, having spent the night out in the open after porpoises without any luck, he decided, just as they were coming in with the rising tide, to try the reefs for seals. Getting out on a flat stone, he 258 OUR RETURN JOURNEY told his young brother to go further in and hide behind the reef, while he endeavored to decoy some seals and secure a shot. The little chap did as directed and got alongside of a boulder further in shore. The poor boy was tired after his night's work, and as it was calm and warm, he dropped asleep in the canoe. The strong incoming tide swept the canoe in towards land. Some time later, when his brother had got a shot and killed a seal, he looked around for the canoe, but was dis- mayed to see it nearly a mile away. He shouted and fired his gun, but the boy slept on. By this time the rock was covered and the water creeping up on him. There was to much water for him to get off the rock and he could not swim a stroke. He shouted till he was hoarse. The rising wind aggravated for a time his position, but eventually proved his salvation. A schooner that was about four miles away, gradually approached him be- fore the wind, and those on board, hearing his cries and seeing his position, sent their boat out and rescued him. By this time the water had risen above his waist, and it was only by using his gun as a prop that he had been able to hold on to his position. Long before this the boy had wak- ened and rowed desperately against the wind and tide, but it would have been a full half hour later before he could have reached his brother. We put up at the hotel of Mr. Boulianne a distant relative of our friend's and arranged with OUR RETURN JOURNEY 259 him for a berlot to drive us to Escoumains, for twelve dollars, our night's lodging and board in- cluded. This was the heaviest day's expense in- curred on our whole trip, amounting to fiften dol- lars. I had a letter of introduction from Mr. T. J. Lamontagne to his Manager, Mr. John Top- ping, at Escoumains Mills. As he was rather short-handed at the moment, he could not send anyone to drive us down, but he supplied us with a horse and sleigh which we were to leave at Mille Vaches, the next parish, 15 miles east. From Escoumains to Mille Vaches the roads were dread- ful and our progress so slow that we frequently walked for a change. It was noon before we reached there. At Mrs. J. A. Pinze's, where we had been told to leave the horse, we were given a hearty recep- tion and excellent dinner. As we intended push- ing on further, she kindly supplied us with a fresh horse on the same terms, that is to say, that we were to leave it at Sault au Cochon Mills, 18 miles further on. Thanking her for her kindness we left, expecting to reach the latter place that night. This was not to be. The wind which had been from the east all day, began to increase and developed into a regular blizzard. Luckily I had travelled down that coast some years pre- viously and had no trouble in finding our way, but it was slow work in the heavy snow drifts. It was dusk when we pulled up at Mr. D. Trem- 260 OUR RETURN JOURNEY blay's, the lighthouse keeper of Portneuf , who re- ceived us in a most hospitable manner. Over eighteen inches of snow fell during the night. Towards morning the wind moderated and I had decided to start on snowshoes, but Mr. Trem- blay thought we had better take the horse to Sault au Cochon, which was and is still the terminus of the road on this coast. We left at about 8 a.m. Where there were obstructions near the road the snow had piled in immense drifts through which the poor horse floundered two or three times. I felt like taking him back, but, however, as this meant considerable delay, we kept on. On the first hill east of Portneuf river there was no ap- pearance of any track and we had to unharness the poor brute and break a slight road before we could get him up with the sleigh. Once on top of the hill we had no more drifts, as the road ran through the woods. With only our packs and guns in the sleigh we let the horse break the road, following ourselves, on our snowshoes. It was just noon when we reached Sault au Cochon, having taken over four hours to make nine miles. Here we left our rig. Mr. W. For- rest, the Manager of the lumber mills, invited us to lunch with him and stay overnight. We ac- cepted only the first part of his invitation, as we wished to try and reach Bersimis the next day. Our objective point that night was a lumber camp on the Laval River which I knew of, five or six OUR RETURN JOURNEY 261 miles further on, which we reached early. The man in charge of the camp, a Mr. Tremblay, lived there with his family. They were all very oblig- ing and did all they could to make us comfortable. There were a lot of spare bunks, which he told us we were welcome to use. There was an immense box stove, which the poor fellow, thinking we might be cold, kept filling up with wood all night. It was awfully hot at times. We got up very early, as we had a long and hard tramp before us, about twenty-nine miles of heavy walking, and we just managed to make it, arriving at Bersimis after dark. On the Bersi- mis river we met Mr. P. C. Dupuis, the Manager of the Bersimis Lumber Company, who had come to meet us with his horse and sleigh and drove us to his house, where we were well taken care of by Mrs. D. The effect of the soft walking told on the eldest Labrie (Alfred), and the next morn- ing he was laid up with a swollen knee, so we were forced to stay one day more at Bersimis. In the afternoon, Mr. Dupuis drove us over to the Indian Mission, where we were the guests of the Revd. Fathers Arnaud and Babel, the first of whom is not only a D.D., but an M.D. as well. He doctored Alfred's knee so well that the next day most of the swelling was gone. As the ice was set inshore for some distance, the Revd. Fathers and Mr. Dupuis insisted on driving us down about four miles over it, which 262 OUR RETURN JOURNEY helped us very much, leaving us twenty-three miles from Manicouagan. Shortly after noon we were at Point des Outardes and had a short rest and a cup of tea with Mr. J. B. Ross, who has a good old Scotch name, but is unable to speak a word of English. He was very desirous that we should remain there till morning and prophesied bad weather. This was just what I expected myself and what made me anxious to go as far as possible that night. We had twelve miles to go to the nearest settlement, which was the Govern- ment Telegraph Station at Point Manicouagan. Our friend's prophecy soon came through. About 3 p.m. a gale of S.-E. wind and snow set in. Beyond the discomfort, we did not mind this much, as I was travelling over very familiar ground and reached the station shortly after dark, in the midst of a blinding snowstorm. Going over the winter portage, there remained fifty-three miles more to cover in order to reach home, and this we had expected to make in two days. But this gale upset our calculations. As there were no settlements before we reached God- bout, we had to carry provisions for at least four days, in case of delay or accident. Mr. Pelletier, agent at Point Manicouagan, was very obliging and gave us a comfortable room, and we enjoyed a good night's rest. Next morning my wife ad- vised me by wire that most of the able-bodied men of the vicinity were to start out and break Mission House, Benimis Indian Reserve English Bay River, Manicouagan OUR RETURN JOURNEY 263 the road for fifteen miles, up to a trapper's camp which they would have ready for us, and that they would take provisions with them. This was good news, so we only bought enough food for two days and started. Owing to the very soft snow we only covered about twenty miles. We had also to stop early to have time to prepare for the night, which was in the usual camping style already des- cribed in a previous chapter. The next day we met our friends and relatives, and thenceforward it was easy travelling. We were relieved of our packs and guns and travelled light. We slept at the trappers' camp and were off at daybreak over a well beaten trail, arriving home at noon. Long before we got there we met, one after another, some friend or acquaintance coming to meet us. Some had walked over twenty miles, the goodness of which much affected us. Our reception on reaching home, I leave to the imagination of the reader. There were no firing of big guns and no fireworks that night. But the welcome was none the less warm. Our whole trip occupied thirty-two days, dur- ing which we met with a great deal of kindness and sympathy and I tender my thanks again to day to all who helped us in any way, no matter however little it may have appeared to them, under what were to us such trying circumstances. g>t)oulber ffilabe PMONG the many superstitious beliefs and practices of our Montagnais Indians, I think that what is known as "Shoulder Blade Reading" is one of the least known and most cur- ious. It is seldom practised in the presence of a "white brother" unless the latter is held in very high esteem or has lived among them. I suppose this is due to the fear that the secret may be re- vealed, to their prejudice. In the Montagnais dialect the custom is known as "outlickan mes- kina," the literal translation of which is "shoul- der blade track." The bones of various animals are used for this purpose, but the favorite, the most truthful, and most far-seeing, in their belief, is that of the caribou. As soon as .the animal is cut up, the shoulder blade is removed by cutting at the first joint. The meat is then cut away with a sharp knife as close to the bone as possible and the latter is boiled for a few minutes, just sufficiently to al- low of all the meat being wiped off. It is then hung up in the wigwam to dry, and in the even- ing after the children are asleep, the bone is read in the following manner : A small piece of wood is partially split, and in- SHOULDER BLADE READING 265 to the end of this the joint end of the "blade" is inserted to form a handle. It is then held over red hot coals for a few seconds. The intense heat causes the bone to crack in various directions, ac- cording, of course, to the amount of heat to which the different parts are subjected. As this can seldom or never be exactly alike, the reading var- ies. A long straight crack from end to end means death or starvation. A short zig-zag one with- out any branches means much trouble and hard- ships. Cracks like the branches of a tree with small roundish burnt spots on the edges indicate plenty. When these spots are close to the stern portion, it is a sign that the game they are seeking is close at hand. If they are at the extremities of the branches, the game is distant in proportion. It is wonderful what an amount of reading some of the experts can get out of these few cracks and spots. * The largest burnt spot always indicates the camp. If the bone burns very brown before * The illustration on the opposite page, from a photograph of a bone actually used by an Indian hunter as above described, shows what is considered a lucky burning. Fig. 1, is supposed to represent the hunter and his wigwam a large darK patch. Fig. 2 is a trail, in which direction it would be useless to go, as there are no markings to represent game. Figures 3. 3. show two trails, both of which lead to game, as shown by the brown portion between the two lines. Figures 4 and 5 indicate the tracks and direction in which the game is to be found. The hunter who owned this bone and read its signs, assured me that on his first day's hunt after the reading, he found and shot four caribou in the direction indicated and added that for miles around in every other direction there was no other game. The Indians' faith in this is unbounded. 266 SHOULDER BLADE READING cracking, it means a long spell of bad weather, and so on. This bone-burning is mostly prac- tised to find out things pertaining to hunting, although occasionally some of the "wise ones" pretend that it can foretell for them other events. I used to take much interest in watching their solemn faces while this reading was going on, and certainly no gospel truth was ever more firmly believed in than is this peculiar rite or practice. jBucfe I/THOUGH we have on our coast many kinds of ducks as immigrants, residents, or strag- glers * those that afford the best sport or are most sought after for food are the scooters, of which we have three species, the white wing, the largest Oedemia fusca, the black, 0. americana, and the surf, 0. perspicillata. They are very early mi- grants, first appearing towards the end of March, and remaining till December, when they go south. A few scattered birds breed along the coast line, but the majority go inland and further north. I have seen some breeding on most of the large in- land lakes and along the Labrador coast. They congregate in immense flocks wherever any pro- per food can be found, principally in the entran- ces of large rivers. Their chief food is a species of small black mussel Mytilus but they will also eat small fish of various kinds, and herring spawn. This last mentioned seems to be quite a tit-bit, and when the ducks are feeding on it a lot of shooting may be done before it drives them away. About the middle of May they leave the sea coast and fly inland at night in big flocks, and very high in the air, appearing no bigger than swallows. I believe that they do not breed * See List of Birds at the end of the book. 268 DUCK SHOOTING before their third year, as very large numbers of both males and females remain behind. These we here call "Moulters," and they remain in the Gulf and River St. Lawrence all summer. The favorite Indian method of shooting scoot- ers, is from a blind on a canoe, made either from cotton, or of the branches of the Canada balsam. In the latter case the bow of the canoe is first covered with these thin branches, and bound over strongly with twine. Two small saplings are then cut, an inch or two in diameter and eight feet long. One side is smoothed with an axe to obtain a level surface. It is then placed on the ground, and on this the fine branches are laid, the tops extending on both sides, and the stems rest- ing on the sapling. About two layers all along are required. When this is finished the other sapling is laid over the branches, and the two lashed solidly together with twine. It forms a flat blind of two feet and a half in width. A thin wedge is then inserted in the middle between the two saplings, to act as a short mast to hold the blind in position, the sides of the blind rest- ing on the gunwale of the canoe. A small aper- ture is left in the most convenient place for ob- servation only, the shooting being done over the blind. Such a blind is useful for all kinds of water fowl, and when conducted by a good and experienced canoeman the shyest birds are de- ceived. It can only be used in calm weather or DUCK SHOOTING 269 in very light winds. When not in use it is laid flat in the canoe. This mode of shooting, though very good for securing game for the pot, is rather tame, and both local sports and "city chaps," as my friend Bob McLimont and others are designated by the natives, prefer flight shooting. In some few places, where there are rocky points or small is- lands, this can be done from the shore by sitting on the rocks, but the usual and preferable way is from a canoe. Some projecting point or a sand pit near one is selected. Thirty yards from shore a canoe is stationed; then another one, eighty yards further out, and so on, till all the canoes are in position; the more the better; but three or four will suffice, if no others are avail- able. The main thing is to have them posted in the form of the letter "C," with the arms open to the direction from which most birds are known to come. As they fly here mostly to the westward, points facing east are the best. When a flock comes along the first canoe outside is the most conspicuous, and the birds deviate towards the land, where they get inside the "C," and then have to fly somewhere over the canoes. Sometimes if very shy, or in calm weather, they will at- tempt to turn out of the C, with the result that every canoe gets a shot at them. I have seen small bunches completely wiped out in a round like this. Firing into a bunch without selecting 270 DUCK SHOOTING some particular bird is about useless, and it is a mere fluke if one is brought down. It is surpris- ing what a lot of space there is around them. Early morning is generally the best time, but not always so, as they are very much influenced by the wind. South-west to westerly winds with haze or fog are the most favorable. On such days bags of fifty to sixty or even more were the rule in the old days. Since the introduction of breech-load- ers and pump-guns and the great increase of po- pulation and traffic on the North Shore, the num- bers have decreased or the birds have gone to other localities. Scooters are polygamous, and during the mating season are easily decoyed by waving a hat, black or grey, or any piece of cloth of that size and color and imitating the call. Bunches of ten or fifteen admirers chasing the same bird are frequent, and their evolutions in the air at such times are most extraordinary ; rising, falling and twisting about in every possible direction. If the female is brought down by a shot all the other birds will follow and light with her. I was out one day with the late Mr. Nazaire Turcotte of Quebec, and firing into such a bunch of about fif- teen, he chanced to kill the female, when the whole lot came down. "Holy Ste. Anne," he exclaim- ed, "I never made such a lucky shot before!" It took me a few minutes to persuade him that the others were unhurt. About the end of July the DUCK SHOOTING 271 moulters are unable to fly, and remain so for about four weeks. Previous to this they accumu- late to the number of many thousands together, near some good feeding grounds and remain there, unless driven off, till the first week in Sep- tember, when they begin to fly again. When in their half moulted condition the Indians and sometimes others, too chase them for food, and strange to say these strong diving birds are then easily drowned. The time selected for such a purpose is from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., when the birds have finished feeding. They then huddle to- gether in a big bunch and sit quietly on the wat- er. Calm and foggy weather is the most suitable, and it is noticed that they will drown much quicker in proportion to the density of the fog. Five or six canoes being ready they all start out, keeping as close a line as possible. As soon as the birds begin to show alarm and move out, which they do at first by flapping the water, the canoes are urged forward, gradually separating more widely, and two canoes getting on the flanks, the idea being to keep them in a mass as long as practicable. The birds soon tire of flapping, and the wings being almost featherless, their progress is slow. Then they begin to dive and disperse, if the canoes are not too close, or else they turn around and dive back to get behind. To add to their terror, the men begin to shoot, at ducks if they can see them, though if none are 272 DUCK SHOOTING near the shots are fired just the same. They are probably so frightened by the sight of the canoes so close to them and by the sound of the shots that they dive down too deep, and are drowned before they can return to the surface. Whatever may be the cause, after three or four dives they bob up in all directions, some quite dead, others part- ly so. These last, if they have time to rest, re- cover and get away, while others are picked up. Three or four hundred are often captured in one chase. Scooters seem to be the only kind of duck that can be drowned like this in wholesale quantities. Little attention is paid by our Indians here to the shooting of the black duck, anas obscura, or kindred species. They seem to prefer seabirds, possibly because they are much fatter and easier to kill, or rather, more easily got at, for sea birds will carry off more shot than fresh water ones will. Their mode of shooting these water fowl does not vary, and decoys, either artificial or alive, are never used by the natives. Very few people on the North Shore bother with decoys, relying on their ability to imitate the calls of the birds or lying in wait for them on their lines of flight, which are along the coast line, either up or down. In the winter season, eider ducks of two species, Somateria, Mollissina and Spectabilis, and the old squaws or long-tail, Harelda glacialis, and the golden eye, Buccphala, two species, Clangula DUCK SHOOTING 273 and Islandica are the chief birds that afford sport or are sought after for food. For golden eye and eider, blinds of ice are built near their resorts, mostly at the end of some point where the strong currents keep the water tree of ice. In this blind, all draped in white, the hunter stations himself, and at the first apperance of daylight the birds begin to come in. If the shooter is there for sport he will take them on the wing, but if food is the object he will wait for a pot shot and get ten, fifteen, or more. I have heard of fifty-two having been killed in a single shot. Years ago I killed myself twenty-six eider in one shot with a flint lock 24 bore. A can- oe painted white is kept near at hand to retrieve the dead birds and finish the cripples. The long-tailed duck seldom keeps near shore r seeking the open spaces of water among the ice, and never stopping long in any one place. There are immense flocks of them, so that at almost any time of the day, there are some on the wing. Sit- ting or flying they keep up an unceasing call. They are the noisiest duck that I know of. They are very fast birds on the wing and carry an aw- ful lot of shot. If not killed stone dead, it is sel- dom that they can be recovered. For winter shooting, Indians and most of the residents use double B Shot. It is the standard shot for almost everything. For my part I prefer No. 4. Shoot- 274 DUCK SHOOTING ing from canoes is about the only way to kill long-tails. The canoe should always be painted white and the shooter and steerer clothed in white cotton overalls and bonnet, so as to blend with the surroundings. feftootmg to big game hunting, in my estimation, there is no more fascinating sport than geese shooting. The birds are much shyer and more difficult to approach than many kinds of larger game. The uncertainty of the sport, which has become proverbial, lends interest to it. We have in the Province of Quebec several famous resorts for geese, at most of which I have shot. And it is noticeable that the methods pursued vary with each locality. Next to a first-class gun and good carefully loaded shells I find patience more essential to success than anything else. I have sat some days in a blind, or hid in the brush for hours, without even getting a chance of a shot, and the next tide or day, I have got fifteen or twenty. The following is a list of the princi- pal places referred to above. The Big Romaine, in Labrador, Victor and Nickerson's Bay, in the Betchuan group; the Great Peninsula, Seven Islands Bay, Manicouagan Shoals, Rimouski, Green Island, Goose Rocks and Seal Reef, oppos- ite T Islet, and St. Joachim, near Quebec. At the three last named places, large flocks of the wavy, or snow goose, are seen, but very few seem to be killed. I never went to St. Joachim, but 276 GEESE SHOOTING at Seal Reef and Goose Rocks the shooting is done from blinds or mud holes, in which you have to stay for hours waiting for the tide to drive the birds in. When within range one shot is taken sitting and another one as they rise, and this is about all you will get in one tide. I hear since I have shot there that live decoys are now used with more success and a chance of some flying shots. This last method is that practised at Green Island, principally in the spring. Snow and ice blinds are built at intervals along the edge of the batture ice. Straw or hay, and some- times an old blanket are laid down inside the blind, which is circular like an Esquimau hut. Outside, a few decoys, cut out of inch boards, are stuck in the snow. Then nine or ten live decoys are put out in a bunch twenty yards away. Generally an old gander is tethered by one leg near this bunch. At the appearance of any wild birds against the sky, this old chap begins to honk and thus lures them in, some actually settling down on the ice if not fired at. Strong N. or N.-E. winds are the most favorable. One has to be in the blind before daylight and from that hour to ten a.m. is the best time. With such con- ditions I once got seventeen geese in one morning in a blind that belonged to Charles Dion, a local hunter. At Rimouski there are very few people who devote any time to it, but the geese are there in thousands, both in spring and in the fall of the Young Sports who have been Goose Shooting. Goose Shooting Camp at Great Peninsula. GEESE SHOOTING 277 year. I am sure that with good management, some fair bags could be secured there. I never spent any time there, but killed an odd one in passing. On Manicouagan shoals and at Seven Islands, geese are mostly shot from canoes or by hiding near some point where the birds come up with the tide; what we call here pot shots. Shooting from a canoe is much preferable and flying shots are often obtained. The canoe is fitted up with branches of the balsam or spruce sufficiently high and thick to conceal both the steerer and the shoot- er. When a flock of geese is sighted, the canoe is quietly urged towards them by using the paddles and keeping them always in the water. Advan- tage is also taken of the wind, if any, to drift down on them, but it must be a very light wind, as if you approach too quickly, they get suspicious and fly off. If very early in the spring and ice is floating about, a cotton blind is the best. Shooter or steerer should also be clothed in white and the head especially should be well covered with a cotton bonnet. I have drifted on geese in this manner almost close enough to touch them with the canoe. As the season advances and trees and other rubbish come down the rivers with the spring floods, branches are the best for blinds, and late in the fall (September and October), dead grass. At the other localities mentioned, principally the Great Peninsula and the Romaine, 278 GEESE SHOOTING all the shooting is on the wing. There are large feeding grounds in the vicinity immense flats covered in places with goose grass. On the flats they feed at low tides, gradually near ing shore as the tide comes in. About half flood tide they be- gin to rise and fly in towards some lakes and the river. In one place they fly over a high rocky promontory with a gap of half a mile wide in it. Along this guns are stationed. Some mornings I have seen fifteen or twenty hunters taking part in the shoot and scarcely a flock passing by without some one getting a crack at it. With possibly the exception of loons, I do not believe there is any other bird at which so much ammunition is wasted, ninety per cent of the shots being fired entirely out of range! A frequent error, when birds are on the wing, is shooting from behind them, the large size of the bird making it appear slower and closer than it really is. The third barrel often goes off then, bang, bang, d always loaded with smokeless powder it brings down no birds, but they claim it is some satisfac- tion to let it go ! If the time of the tide suits, two shooting spells can be had the same day, because when the tide is about at half ebb, they will all return to the flats again. If one is careful not to molest them on the feeding ground, many days of fine shooting can be obtained, but if shot at by night or on the flats, they are soon driven away. GEESE SHOOTING 279 For flight shooting I use double B and treble A shot, and for pot shots Number 1 or 2, backed with the best powder I can buy. As to the best size of gun, this will depend on the fancy of the shooter. I use an 8 or 10 bore, but have seen 28 guage used. Tfif HAVE shot three swans in my lifetime and /3I have had chances of killing others, but I would not shoot any more of these fine birds unless I were starving. Young and fat birds may be all right, but old ones are not worth eating, and I consider it a sin to kill a bird or anything else unless some use can be made of it. It was in 1864 that I shot my first two swans, and they were the first I had ever seen on this coast or in a wild state anywhere. I was in- land trapping with my brother on one of the tri- butaries of the Pentecost River and we were about seventy miles from the sea shore. It was towards the end of September. During the previous day and most of the night it had been blowing a strong gale of south-westerly winds with hazy and some- what warmer weather than is usual at that season. We were getting our winter quarters ready and preparing dead falls for otter and searching for beaver. We had camped on the edge of a lake about a couple of miles wide, which the gale of the previous day had prevented us from crossing. Early next morning we were off and went direct to the outlet, where there was an otter slide over an old beaver dam. The outlet itself was pro- bably thirty feet wide, bordered by spruce and A LITTLE SWAN SHOOT 281 balsam trees of mederate height. After a short distance it widened out, forming a small lake, bordered with patches of long grass and quite shallow. From the dam one could see into this small lake. On landing I got a glimpse of these two white birds and mistook them for snow geese, Anser Hyperboreus , of which we occasionally killed a few, though they are never numerous here. Squatting out quickly, I pushed the canoe out, and we landed on the side where we could not be seen. We each had a gun, my brother a flint lock H. B. Co. gun, 24 bore, and I a double one of the same guage and make, but a percussion cap instead of flint I arranged that my brother was to make a detour through the woods and get to the eastward of them below the small lake, where he was to try and get a shot if possible, and if not he was to show himself and make them rise, in which case they would have to fly up the outlet and pass over the dam where I was stationed. All being ready he started off and some few minutes later I heard him shoot. Glancing down the out- let through the branches I saw the two birds com- ing. They were flying very low and looked awful- ly big, I thought. I soon recognized them, how- ever, and got ready. On they came, rising rapid- ly, till about opposite to me they were some thirty feet in the air. What a spread! It looked as big as a blanket. Aiming at the neck I brought the first one down. The other was lagging a lit- 282 A LITTLE SWAN SHOOT tie behind, and was bleeding. One pellet of AAA shot from my brother's gun had struck him in the breast. As he was passing over I knock- ed him down also. Golly! What two fine birds! I am sure they were about five feet long. We sat there, my brother and I, over half an hour, turn- ing them around and admiring them. When my brother had gone around, he had no trouble in approaching them as far as the edge of the tall grass below r . There he had fired at the two of them in a line, at what he thought was about fifty yards range but it was actually over a hundred. The birds were too heavy to carry around with us, so we hung them up in the trees and decided to do some work and come back to the lake that evening and have a grand swan feast. On our re- turn my brother set to work plucking one, while I got camp ready and cut some wood. Shortly afterwards, coming with a load, I found he had given up his job. He said it was like pulling out stakes, every feather held so hard. We had no time to waste, so we ripped the swan open with a knife and skinned it. Half of it was then cut and placed on the spit. It was very lean. After it appeared to have been well cooked we had our sup- per. My goodness ! English oak-tanned sole lea- ther was tender compared to this. We got a lit* tie down, with time, as we were pretty hungry, but voted that cooking on the spit was not the proper way for swan. In the evening we cut the A LITTLE SWAN SHOOT 283 other half into pieces and set it to boil, to make a sort of trappers' stew with flour and small pieces of bacon or fat pork. After being on the boil most of the night we found little difference in the morning. That was our last attempt ! Both birds were in very poor condition. We threw away the second one. I have read that swans live to a very old age. These must have been bred in Jacques C artier 's time. They were the ordinary trumpe- ter swan, Cygnus Buccinator. Arouse anb (^tfter Hanb E are supposed to have four kinds of grouse on the North Shore of the St. Lawrence; the ruffed grouse or birch partridge Bonasa umbellus (Mr. Hammond's friend) the willow ptarmigan, Lag opus Albus the rock ptarmigan, L. rupestris and the white-tailed ptarmigan, L. leucurus. The rock ptarmigan is hardly worth mention- ing, either for sport or food, for it is too rare and too seldom found near the coast. I have killed them inland, and on the barren mountains of the Labrador. In July and August, 1907, I found several coveys of young birds on the higher ranges east and west of the Washecootai River. Of the white-tailed species I have only killed one specimen (Dec. 7, 5 94)), and even of that one I am not quite sure, as it possibly may have been an albino of the willow ptarmigan. It was a smaller bird than the ordinary ptarmigan. The ruffed grouse may be classed as common, being found all over the coast as far north as the Mingan Islands. I have not seen nor shot any specimens further north than that. In some years they are abundant for a time, and then disap- pear. I have noticed that heavy sleet in winter will sometimes drive them away from certain GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS 285 tracts of country. Since 1905 they have been pretty scarce all over the country. I think this must be due to some kind of contagious disease, something similar, probably, to the " grouse dis- ease" of Scotland. There is no other way of ex- plaining their scarcity over such an immense extent of territory. Where the country is opened up, and there are only patches of wood here and there, it would be reasonable to suppose that they might have been exterminated by over shooting and snaring, but where there are thousands of miles of forests, and not one in a hundred shot over, it canot be put down to excessive shooting. As to natural enemies they do not seem to have been any more numerous here than anywhere else. Last season (1908), I was over six weeks in the wood with two of my boys, and we only saw six. From various points throughout the country, both inland and along the coast I receive the same re- ports, no grouse. Ruffed grouse shooting in this section is not sport, and is not regarded as such by the resi- dents, for the reason that neither the people nor the birds have been educated to it. I can count on less than the fingers of one hand all the men I know on this shore that will deliberately flush a grouse to shoot it on the wing. As for the birds themselves, unless they happen to be in an open spot, they will not fly any distance. In the woods, which are pretty dense here, when flushed 286 GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS they simply rise off the ground, perching in the nearest tree and stretching their necks to see you walking under them. If it happens that a covey is started, they will frequently be all killed with- out any of the others around taking flight. Many a time when in the woods trapping, we would not waste a shot on them, but simply go to work and cut down a small sapling, tie a noose or string at one end, slip it over their head and pull them off the branch. At other times for amusement we would go out with a bow and blunt-headed arrow and whack them off the trees at twenty feet range, which is about the usual one that they are shot at here. What a contrast to the educated ones! Some years ago I received an invitation from Mr. C. Beatty, of Plattsburg, Lake Champlain, to go and have a few days cf mixed shooting with him. It was late in September, but most of the leaves were still on the trees. The first day we had a grand duck shoot on Missisquoi Bay and after that an outing for woodcock. The last day had been re- served for partridge and grey squirrels. We had breakfast at daylight and were off. We had not far to go to reach our ground, patches of hard- wood trees, with a good deal of underbrush. We soon heard some, whirring off at our approach, but could not even get a glimpse of them. After a time I got a crossing shot at one over fifty yards away, which I bagged, and that was the only GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS 287 bird we got. But we surely heard a dozen or more rising. I was simply astonished that such a bird could be so shy. When I came back here and told the natives about my experience, they thought I was pulling the long bow. I believe it will take many years before our birds get so high ly educated. I have shot since that time in the vicinity of Three Eivers and at St. Raymond, near Quebec, and although the birds are considerably shot at and treed with dogs, I found them just about as tame as here. During the close season I heard that lots were snare'd in the way I have described, and also by setting snares on the ground, the absence of any noise making it difficult to detect the poachers. Half grown birds were also killed and eagerly bought up by the leading hotels, where they would appear on the bill of fare as imported quail or something similar. Of all the above species the willow ptarmigan is by far the most abundant, and of considerable value as an article of food during its years of passage. It is an irregular migrant, in this wise, that it does not come regularly every season, like most other birds, and sometimes we may be three or four years without seeing any. I have gath- ered considerable data on this subject and I find that about every tenth year is one of great abun- dance. Here are some of the dates : 1863 and 1864 Extremely abundant. 288 GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS 1867 Disappeared this year. 1871 A few were seen this year, but none be- tween 1867 and 1871. 1872 and 1873 Very numerous again and total disappearance in 1876. 1882 A few observed. 1883 and 1884, and 1885 Great abundance. 1887 Disappeared entirely. 1891 A few seen, gradually increasing each year till 1895, when there were considerable quanti- ties. 1897 None. 1903 and 1904 Abundant, and a few seen every winter since to date (1909). At one time it was supposed that these years of abundance on the coast were due to heavy sleet in the interior, covering up all the buds and prevent- ing the birds from feeding, and thus forcing them to seek food elsewhere. I have noticed that this will affect them to some slight extent, but the dates given show too much regularity for this to be the true cause. My belief is that it is due to the food supply. Having examined thousands of the crops of these birds I found that over ninety per cent contained the buds of a species of willow popularly known here as pussy willow, Salix artica ? The balance were buds of the birch, pop- lar and the mountain ash and its berry. I also noticed a few seeds that I could not identify. After a year or two of great abundance, all GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS 289 I 3 1 I I 0> I I cu 290 GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS the willows are destroyed by the breaking of the tips and the buds, and the shrub takes about two years to recover, which is generally by fresh sprouts from the root. As the food fails the birds have to move elsewhere. It would, therefore, ap- pear from my data that it takes about ten years to go round their circle of migration. I say circle because their line of flight seems to indicate this. They first appear on the Labrador coast line fly- ing south and continue so till they reach our large rivers like the Manicouagan, Bersimis and the Saguenay, seldom going west of this last. These large rivers are followed up in a west and north- westerly direction, the birds scattering inland over a tract that includes the Lake St. John and Lake Mistassini region, then down to the shores of Hudson's Bay, where Dr. Milne and Mr. Peter McKenzie told me they flew north all along the coast line to Ungava, then south again to the Lab- rador, and so on. The range of the flight on this side of Hudson's Bay would cover about ten de- grees of latitude and in round figures form a cir- cle around this big peninsula, of about two thou- sand miles. As this immense body of ptarmigan moves on during a season of abundance, stragglers are left behind, which breed, giving another and lesser batch to migrate the second year, when fewer stragglers are left, till the third or fourth season, when no more are seen for a time. Their total absence varies from four to six years. They GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS 291 seldom or never breed in the lowlands, always seeming to prefer high and bare mountainous sec- tions. In June, 1893, I saw a pair several times. They probably had their nest within a mile of our house (Godbout). The earliest appearance of any large migration was October 29, 1872, but as a rule it begins here from the 15th of November to December. The regular flight along the sea shore lasts about four to six weeks. After that the birds seem to scatter inland and feed. When on the move they fly very early in the morning, sometimes so early that it is impossible to distinguish them unless there happens to be some dark background. The morning flight, when abundant, will last an hour or two. The size of the flocks vary in or- dinary seasons from ten to fifteen or twenty. In years of great abundance, flocks of a hundred or more are common. On the 14th of November, 1885, I saw at Trinity Bay, six miles east of Pointe des Monts, one flock which contained many thousands. It was a continuous mass of birds over half a mile long and from sixty to a hundred yards wide. I had never seen anything ap- proaching this before, nor have I since. When in large flocks they are, as a rule, shy, especially if the weather is very cold or windy, and will rise long before one gets within ordinary range. On the wing, however, they do not seem to mind any- thing in their way, flying over and around one 292 GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS without apparently noticing him. They are very strong on the wing, not any faster than the ruffed grouse, but capable of sustaining much longer flights, occasionally going five to six miles with- out resting. In small bunches and in snowy and mild wea- ther they are quite tame, and when feeding in the thick willow bottoms it is hard work to get them to rise out of them. After feeding they congregate around some clump of willow, and scratching a small hollow in the snow, will lie per- fectly still for hours, the top of the head just level with the snow, the black eye and beak alone be- traying their presence. The popular idea of their diving in the snow to escape pursuit is most ridiculous, At night they will occasionally burrow in the snow, but only during high winds or very cold weather, the usual way of resting being the small hollow mentioned. Another rather re- markable thing in connection with ptarmigan is the apparent disproportion of the sexes. Out of the many thousands that I have killed and exam- ined, only about twenty-five per cent were males. In winter they prefer low valleys and the borders of rivers and lakes and dense willow patches, but as the season advances they seek the higher ranges, choosing those that face the midday sun. When flying over water, as they often do in cross- ing bays or large rivers, they keep very near the surface, just about a foot or so above it. Over GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS 293 land the reverse is the case, for sometimes they rise high over the tops of the tallest trees. The most remarkable thing about them, however, is their seasonal change of plumage. In 1885 I had the pleasure of attending the meetings of the American Ornithologists Union, in New York. At one of the meetings a very interesting paper was read by Dr. Stegneger on this subject. The Doctor exhibited two specimens which came from Newfoundland and which, in his opinion, were a sub-species confined to the island. This distinc- tion was based particularly on the coloration of the primaries. The birds shown had nearly all the tips of the primaries black. Since my return I have taken special pains to examine a great number of birds. On those killed prior to 15th November, I found the same coloration, more or less, as on the species shown, but after that date there was a gradual whitening of the primaries and in many cases only the shafts were white. During the last two migrations, taking the best years, 1895 and 1904, I took some trouble to try and find out approximately how many birds were killed between certain points. During the first year mentioned, between Mingan and God- bout (175) one hundred and seventy- five miles of coast, thirty thousand were killed. In the second (1904) fourteen thousand, but I am sure that during 1885 nearly sixty thousand must have been shot or snared. When a flight begins, every 294 GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS man, women and boy able to handle a gun is out. To avoid accidents, which are very rare, indeed, each gun occupies a certain point or station and shoots at all the birds that pass or light in his vic- inity. The ladies keep watch for those that may light near the houses. The bags vary, of course, according to the skill of the shooter and his meth- od of shooting. If he is there for business he will take all the pot shots. He can frequently get five or six in one shot. I have seen fourteen killed in a single shot. A few will only shoot on the wing, but there are many days when the wing shooter comes out ahead. The biggest bag I ever made (it was in 1885) shooting at flying birds, was eighty- two brace in one morning. At Caribou Islands that winter, nets were tried, but they were not very successful, more being got by shooting. In- dians frequently snare them by setting their snares around willow clumps where the birds feed. It is a very simple arrangement. A twig is stuck in the snow, a twine snare is tied to it, a very light support placed under it to hold it in position and it is ready. In walking around, the bird runs in- to it, then tries to rise on feeling the snare, only to tighten the noose. There is a little fluttering and it is all over. Like the poor Northern hare they have many enemies, chief among which are the falcons and owls, both horned and snowy, lynx, foxes, etc. We have no other winter birds worth mention- GROUSE AND OTHER LAND BIRDS 295 > ing as affording any sport, but during the spring and fall migrations, we have curlews and plovers of various kinds and snipe in some localities. Little shore birds and sand larks of several species are common, clouds of them at times where the sand bars are of any length, such as Portneuf , Bersimis and Manicouagan shoals. Dozens are killed in a single shot. Few or any of the natives shoot snipe, considering them too small to waste a shot on, and as it frequently happens that not only one shot, but many, are fired to hit one, they believe there is no money in that species of game and leave them for the "city chaps." Very considerate on their part! The best time for shore birds and waders is from the opening of the season on Sept. 1st to the 15th of October. During that period, near the entrance of any of our large rivers, on the sand flats or mud banks of the deep bays, good sport 1 can be had. of letting ffitrbst 3N reading the narrative of Hubbard's expe- dition in Labrador, "The Lure of the Labrador Wild," by his companion, Dillon Wal- lace, I noticed that apparently all its spare time in seeking for food was devoted to fishing. Little or no effort seems to have been made to snare or trap game. Snares are very easily and quickly set and game such as hares and grouse secured which would otherwise possibly never be seen. Steel traps will also help in procuring food that otherwise could not be killed, and a couple of light ones, of the kind known as jump- ing traps, will more than repay the trouble of carrying them. For all round use, the No. 2 or mink trap is the best. Two of these with chains will weigh about a pound and a quarter. Many large birds of the owl and hawk species can be secured by placing such a trap on the end of a pole, on any elevated ground. Although appar- ently there are no birds visible during the day, it is extraordinary what a couple of well set traps will secure. I know of a hunter who caught in one winter over a hundred snowy owls, and lots of grey and long-eared ones; besides, gyr-falcons and duck hawks, whisky jacks, etc. The total weight in meat caught in his four or five traps SOME EASY WAYS OF GETTING BIRDS 297 must have been nearly a thousand pounds. As most of these birds are very shy I am quite sure that a dozen good guns could not have secured half that quantity. I think such traps would be spe- cially useful to parties going on exploring trips in northern countries. Prominent points of land along a coast line or on lakes should be selected to set the trap on. Where there are no trees at all, the pole or stake need not be more than three or four feet high. In a case of need, aquatic birds, such as geese and black ducks, are easily trapped by placing the traps on their feeding grounds or where they congregate on the shore to sun them- selves. Gulls also can be trapped by using a bait and setting traps near it, or tying the bait on the pan. These birds are often caught by cod fishermen and Indians, by baiting the small hooks with some fat substance that will float. Cod livers are mostly used, but any other fat will do. On sand banks small fish or mussels, in fact anything edible, will answer. Most of the latter kind of birds are not considered worth eating, being classed as oily and fishy. Such little fancies as these do not stand much in the way of a hungry stomach. To persons not reduced to such straits, but desirous of having a little game for a change, I would ad- vise as follows: Clean the birds (removing intes- tines) as soon as possible after killing; then hang by the legs for from a few hours to two or three 298 SOME EASY WAYS OF GETTING BIRDS days in a cool place in warm weather, but not longer unless you can freeze them. When wanted for the table, remove the skin and all fatty pieces and then stew them. There is another way of cooking them which I think is preferable, but it is wasteful. After skinning as above, take a knife and remove the breasts only, cutting along the bone to the wing, but do not leave any bones on. This will form two nice little pieces of meat. Cook in a frying pan like a steak, using a very small piece of butter, pepper and salt. You will be surprised to see how palatable this is, and few people, unless they know beforehand, will be able to say whether they are eating fresh or salt water birds. Sea ducks should never be roasted in a pan or oven, as this brings out the oily taste. Murres, (lomvia troile) which migrate along the St. Law- rence in myriads, in some years, occasionally getting as far west as the Great Lakes, and are killed in thousands during these migrations, are mostly thrown away, being considered unfit for food. If they were cooked in the way last des- cribed, few would throw them away after having once tasted them. I have occasionally been asked why the Can- ada jay (perisoreus Canadensis), is called whisky jack. It is a corruption of the Indian name for this bird. Uiske-stian, in Montagnais dialect, means "fat-eater," or "one who hides fat" a SOME EASY WAYS OF GETTING BIRDS 299 very appropriate name, because the first thing it will do upon finding any fat is to conceal it. If the carcass of an animal is hung anywhere in the forest and there are any jays around, all the fat will soon be picked off. Snbian'g (Opinion of g>ir Cbmunb 3N 1859, while we were at Mingan, Sir Ed- mund Head came down to fish that river for salmon. My father, who was the Hudson Bay Company's agent there, had received orders to make all the necessary preparations for his recep- tion and transport to the fishing grounds near the falls. With this object in view, a lot of Indians and canoes had been hired to carry all the bag- gage, &c. over a short portage behind the post to the river and then up the stream. These men were under the guidance of a very smart and ac- tive fellow named Sam Meshkina 'The Track- er." He was about forty- five years old, a splendid hunter and trapper, and could boast of speaking fairly good English. It was principally for this accomplishment that he had been selected as the leader. Sir Edmund was greatly pleased to see how quickly everything had been attended to by Sam, and in the evening, after dinner, the latter was invited to the Governor- General's tent, where he was thanked for the able manner in which he had acquitted himself of his work. As Sam was not at all shy, he was asked many questions about the Indian mode of life, and especially about bea- AN INDIAN'S OPINION Ac. 301 ver trapping, of which he gave a good account, and which appeared to interest Sir Edmund very much. The next day my father heard of this from some one of the party, and meeting Sam, said : "I hear that you have been greatly honored by the Governor and been invited to his tent?" "Yes." "That was very nice on his part, and what do you think of him?" In a quiet and pitying tone, Sam answered: "Please don't mention this to anyone; but the poor fellow don't even know how to catch bea- ver.' Another story, though not quite such a good one, shows the Indian's idea of what a Governor- General is. In June, 1873, Lord Dufferin and the Countess were the guests for a few days of the Lairds of Godbout. As the sleeping accommodation was rather limited at the fishing camp, Lord Dufferin and the Countess returned every evening, after their fishing was over, to their steamer, the D. G. S. Druid, which was at anchor in Godbout Bay. I had been detailed by Mr. Allan Gilmour to attend to this part of the programme, and in the morning went to receive them at the landing in the Bay, and escort them to the river, a walk of about a quarter of a mile, where suitable boats and men were ready to take them up to "the pools." 302 AN INDIAN'S OPINION &c. Just about this same time there was a half- breed Indian named David Picard, a distant relative of the Picards of Lorette who had gone out with a surveying party some time before, and had been paid by them with a cheque, which was as good as gold. Picard had tried to change it, but as no one whom he had asked, had the necessary cash, they had refused, and he there- fore suspected that this was because the cheque was no good. Like everyone else in the place, he knew of the arrival of the Governor- General and thought this was his chance. On the second morn- ing, as we were walking up to the river, we saw Picard coming with the evident intention of in- tercepting us. When Lord Dufferin felt quite sure of this he stopped. "Bonjour," says David. Lord Dufferin returned his salute. "Conte done, c'est toi gouvernail" said David in bad French; equivalent to "Look here, are you the rudder" ? In the Montagnais language, Governor is ' 'tequi- gan," the literal translation of which in French is gouvernail, rudder. Lord Dufferin looked puzzled and asked me what he wanted. I said, "He wants to know if you are the Gov- ernor-General." Politely raising his cap, the Governor- General said, "I have that honor." f 'Well, look here," said Picard, "I have been employed on some of your work and been paid AN INDIAN'S OPINION &c. 303 with a piece of paper that is no good, so now that you are here yourself I want my money," and fumbling in his pockets, he drew out his crumpled cheque and handed it to Lord Duf- ferin, who examined it carefully, and asked me if I knew anything of this. I told him it was all right. "Mr. Picard," said he, in good French, "this is all correct. If you come on board the stea- mer to-night we will pay you, but I want you to remember that any cheque for my work is good," and smilingly he wished him "bonjour." He was very much amused at this incident. Picard felt so much relieved with the Gover- nor's assurance that he did not go on board for his money, and was paid all right later on for his cheque. (great ffiorneb 3 HAVE made mention in my bird list at the end of this book, of the boldness of this bird. In my opinion, not ^ven the eagle can approach it on that score. It is a well known fact that this owl will attack and kill porcupines, a feat that few animals will attempt. I once had a dog, a cocker spaniel, killed by one of them. It was in November, and there were only a few inches of snow on the ground. We had the dog with us for partridge shooting. We were at one of our permanent log camps. As camp stoves were not in use in those days we built open fire places and left a good sized aperture in the roof of our camps for the smoke to escape. When the fire burned brightly, it would shed considerable light on the surrounding trees. This frequently attracted owls of various kind, and it was no unusual thing to shoot them from the door of our camp. On the night in question, it was very dark and mild, and as we had been baking bread, it was very hot inside our camp and we had left the door ajar. Our dog was out poking around somewhere when suddenly it gave a yell of pain. It had not bark- ed previously, so I knew that no animal was the cause I was just going to the door to find out what was wrong, when the dog rushed in, with THE GREAT HORNED OWL 305 the owl fastened to his back, and sought refuge behind my brother. The latter threw his coat over him and twisted the owl's neck. Both claws were fastened in the back of the dog, causing injuries from which he died two or three days later. A great horned owl weighs between five and seven pounds, according to its condition, and this one had tackled an animal about six times its weight. One evening while we were living at Trinity Bay, a great horned owl dashed through one of the windows of our house and dropped on the floor, having injured one of its wings on the shat- tered glass. The size of the pane was 16 x 14. I chanced to be sitting in front of the stove, and grasping the poker, I smashed its head with it. It had apparently tried to pounce on my sister's head, as she was sitting only a few feet from the window, the reflection from the lamp on her shin- ing flaxen hair having no doubt attracted it. I know of two similar occurrences of the smashing of windows by this bird since I have been here. One of our Godbout Indians, "Old Michel," was badly lacerated on the head by one of these owls. The old man, who was a French half-breed, had a fine head of grizzled curly hair. Going out of his camp bareheaded one evening, the bird pounced on him, its sharp claws pen- trating the scalp. Immediately putting up his hands, the old man grasped the bird by the legs 306 THE GREAT HORNED OWL and tried to loosen its hold, but finding this very painful, he entered the camp, and stooping near the fire, with the aid of his son he put the owl in the flames, which soon loosened its hold and burned the bird to ashes. Ever afterwards, when this old chap went out of his camp at night, he used to put an old Hudson Bay Company's copper kettle over his head ! Of the two cases referred to as attacking human beings, one happened at our neighbour's at Trinity Bay, and I saw the bird and the place where it was killed. Mr. P. Bilodeau was out chopping dry wood in a burned-over patch of spruce near his house. It was about December, and the day was cloudy and dark. While engag- ed in collecting the cut pieces, he noticed a large horned owl perched on a dry tree about twenty feet from him. He had not seen or heard it com- ing. Cutting a piece from the branch, he threw it at the bird, not with any intention of killing it, but for the fun of seeing it fly away. Very much to his surprise the bird did not move. A second stick followed, and then a third one, with the same result, the bird simply watching the sticks as they went by him. The old fellow was illiterate, and crammed full of superstitious beliefs of loup garou and chasse galeries, and concluded that one of these wan- dering spirits was there under the form of an owl. He devoutly crossed himself, and picking THE GREAT HORNED OWL 307 up his axe, started for home, keeping an eye on the bird as he went. He had not gone far before the owl arose, took flight, and alighted upon a tree a few yards ahead of him, watching his ap- proach. This was getting serious. The old man vowed to pray for the lost soul ; and hurried his steps. As he passed under the tree where the owl was sitting, it swooped down upon him. Bilodeau, who had partly expected to be attacked by this evil spirit, had his axe ready, and with a stroke of its sharp edge, he cut it down, and leaving both axe and bird there, ran home. He could never be persuaded to use that axe again, it being stained with the blood of the loup garou, which he had delivered from bondage. The belief which he shared was that for some misdeed such souls are condemned to wander under different forms until delivered by a second death. The old gentleman always dressed in the old- fashioned style of grey homespun, etoffe du pays, and wore that morning a cap made of muskrat fur, which was probably the cause of the attack. The second instance above referred to occurred at Manicouagan, and I obtained the particulars of it from the man himself who had been attack- ed, a trapper named Thibeau. He said he was leturning to his camp one evening just about dusk with a red fox slung over his shoulders. It was blowing a gale of east wind with snow, and 308 THE GREAT HORNED OWL he was stooping forward, making his way through the deep drifts, when without any warning he received a blow in the back that nearly felled him. Straightening up, he turned around to see the cause. He was just in time to meet a second attack from the owl, which he killed with his hatchet. During the spring time, which is mating sea- son, these birds give regular concerts, at which I have assisted a couple of times. There are gen- erally four or five performers, and although the music is rather monotonous, it is very interesting to watch the birds, apparently vying with each other in producing the loudest note. It seems to require a considerable effort, because the bird throws itself forward, stretching its neck and partly spreading the wings and tail, as it emits its peculiar hoot, "whoo-hoo-whoo-oou." A min- ute or two, and another responds, and this is kept up for more than an hour if they remain un- disturbed. When one is near the birds, the sound does not seem very loud ; yet, in calm weather, it can be heard at three or four miles' distance and sometimes more. I shall sum up these owl yarns with the narration of a trick I played upon my brother Firmin. It was a common thing to shoot owls at night, while they were perched on the outhouses, fence posts and trees in the vicinity of the house. Going outside our door one evening I saw one of our cats crouching on the gable end THE GREAT HORNED OWL 309 of the house. Opening the door, cautiously, I said, "Quick, Firmin, your gun, a horned owl on the roof." As he came out I told him to shoulder his gun all ready and back out, and as soon as he saw the head of the owl to shoot, which he did. We heard the cat rolling down, and while he ran to pick it up, I cleared out of the way, and had to do so for sometime afterwards whenever "cat" was men- tioned. ffitjree (gotben Cagleg ARLY one morning I started out after wild geese. On the previous day I had located several large flocks, noticing where they came in with the tide and rested on the sand banks at high water, cleaning their feathers and sun- ning themselves. On the previous evening, after dark, I had built a blind by digging a hole in the sand and lining it with dead grass and branches, so that it would harmonize with the surroundings. I had to be in my blind before day- light so that the geese would not see me go to it, and this meant a long wait of nearly four hours for high tide. I had provided myself with a heavy light grey blanket, which blended well with the color of the sand, and also possessed the advantage of being more quickly thrown off than an overcoat could be. One feels rather encumbered when shooting with a heavy overcoat on, which, moreover, renders it extremely awkward for shouldering the gun, unless it be one with a short- ened stock. I wrapped myself in the blanket and lay down in the hole, trying to get a few winks of sleep to help the time pass more quickly There were hundreds of geese feeding, and every now and again I would hear the "honk" of some old sentinel, a sort of "all's well." THREE GOLDEN EAGLES 311 I had been alternately dozing and watching for three hours. The first ranks of the geese were about one hundred yards from me and many more were gradually coming in. I had two guns with me, one a double barrelled ten bore, by Dougall, a first class shooter, a handsome present to me from the late Colonel Allan Gilmour of Ottawa. My other was a single barrel 8 bore, made to or- der, by Greener, of Birmingham, and specially bored for large shot for seal and geese shooting. This gun was christened by my friend, Mr. Robert McLimont, as "sure kill." On such oc- casions I would use old "sure kill" first, reserv- ing the ten bore to finish any cripples. I saw that both were properly loaded and then lay back, de- cided to wait half an hour more. By that time the leaders would be about forty yards off. I was still wrapped up in the blanket, making myself as comfortable as the cramped position would allow, and thinking about how many geese I was likely to get, when, all at once, there was a roar of wings and "honks." I jumped up, throw- ing down the blanket and grasping "sure kill," but it was too late. The geese were nearly out of range, and I refrained from shooting. I quickly discovered the cause of my troubles. It was a golden eagle, sailing around on the watch for a crippled or sickly bird. I do not habitually use profane language, but perhaps I said something just then. In any case there was vengeance in 312 THREE GOLDEN EAGLES my eye, and as the eagle came within range I brought him down with the 8 bore, and reloading ran out and picked him up. He was a handsome bird, and I sat down in the blind, examining his beautiful plumage and powerful talons. Suddenly I heard a shrill cry overhead, and looking up saw two other eagles come together in the air, either fighting or mating. It was then early in May. Hastily raising the 8 bore again I fired, just as they were separating, and both came down. One was well hit and stone dead, and a stray pel- let had broken the wing of the other. Three gol- den eagles in about as many minutes was an am- ple revenge for the loss of my shot at the geese ! I remained there a few days more, and being troubled no more by eagles I got seventeen geese and one pot shot of five with "sure kill." The measurements of the eagles were: 1st: spread of wings, 5 feet 11 inches. 2nd: spread of wings, 6 feet 7 inches. 3rd: spread of wings, 6 feet 9 inches. The two last mentioned were those killed at one shot. I had no means of weighing the birds. The date was May 7th, 1895. The golden eagle is not common on this coast, but the bald headed Haliatus leucociphalus is. Both of them are terrors to geese and black ducks. On the water they do not seem to mind them, but if sitting on the shore they will invariably rise if Three Golden Eagles Snaring Hares. The Result. THREE GOLDEN EAGLES 313 an eagle comes near. I never saw them attack an uninjured and full grown goose or duck, but it is quite possible that they kill many young birds. They also kill many kinds of small mammals, and the young of some of the larger species. They are regular gluttons, and will gorge themselves till they are unable to rise. I have killed three or four with a stick, in that condition. One of them had stowed away the whole of a twelve pound sal- mon. They are very powerful on the wing, and will lift and carry off a salmon of about ten pounds. They feed largely on dead fish also, picked up at low tide on the reefs and shoals. The large green lump fish, cyclopterus lumpus, is a favorite morsel. They are shy birds, but easily caught in steel traps baited with fish. Both spe- cies nest here and winter on the coast. anb ast> ffioli fount NE afternoon about the end of September, 1885, I was sitting in my office sending telegraphic messages. Without any rap or other warning, a young half-breed Indian boy rushed in. He was bare- headed and barefooted and I immediately saw by his excited appearance that something serious had happened. I thought at first that some gun acci- dent had occurred. Before I could question him, he exclaimed excitedly: "Meigan! Meigan!" (Wolves! Wolves!) adding in his own language, "your rifle, quick !" I hurriedly asked him if any person had been attacked or killed, to which he answered, "No." As his excitement cooled down, I found that he and his uncle had just come from the river, where they had seen the tracks of a pack of wolves about fifteen in number, and that they were still quite close, as they had heard them howling fear- fully. My rifle was a good one, the old Kentucky Ballard, 46 cal. rim fire, but it was a single load- er; and tackling fifteen wolves was, I thought, perhaps a little too much for a single gun. I therefore preferred taking my 10 bore Greener double-barrelled gun, for which I had a lot of car- A SHORT AND EASY WOLF HUNT 315 tridges loaded for seals with AAAA and SSG shot. Finding the boy was willing to come, too, I gave him the empty rifle to carry, for which I took about twenty more cartridges. As soon as I had everything ready we started off. On reach- ing the river I found his uncle there. He in- formed me that the pack was still very close, as he had just heard them again, but that he believed they were going up the river along the shore. This was on the west bank. The old man refused to come, as he had only a flint lock muzzle loader, H. B. Co. gun. I must explain that the west side of the river forms a wooded peninsula of a mile and a quarter long and varying in width from one to two hun- dred yards. On either side of it there is a sandy beach, rising abruptly on the river side, and form- ing a bank eight to ten feet high. Jumping into the Indian's canoe we paddled quickly over the river, being only a hundred yards wide. Upon landing on the sand pit I saw that it was indeed covered with the tracks of some very large and some smaller wolves, but there were cer- tainly less than stated. "Muskrat," the In- dian boy was sure, however, that there were fif- teen; his uncle had counted them. While cross- ing the river we had again heard the howls of the wolves, which appeared to be half a mile up the inside bank of the river. I determined to try and head them off, by running up the inside beach of 316 A SHORT AND EASY WOLF HUNT the peninsula, then crossing the wooded belt, and laying in wait for them as they came up on the main river shore. This would also give me the advantage of a steep bank, supposing the wolves wanted to be nasty. We had both started on the run, and I had gone about five hundred yards, when I noticed that the boy was not with me. The little Beggar had sneaked off to take a look across the woods. In a few seconds I saw him coming back, waving his hand to me. I ran up. "They have got scent of us," he exclaimed, "and I have just seen three of them coming back down the river. They are not very far away." Not expecting to go into the woods. I had left home with a pair of heavy soled boots. Hastily re- moving them, so as not to make any noise, I went across with only my stockings on my feet. I cau- tioned Muskrat to keep near me in case I should need the rifle, which I kept empty, as I was afraid to trust him with it load- ed, behind me. Nearing the bank I peered cautiously over. Sure enough there were three in sight, sixty yards or so away, and coming towards us as the boy had said. Two of them were big, hungry-looking brutes, with a smaller one ac- companying them. I looked around carefully for the rest of the pack, but could not see it. At all events there were enough to begin with. I had both barrels of my gun loaded with SSG., and I was now quite sure of one or two wolves at that A SHORT AND EASY WOLF HUNT 317 range, but I felt greedy and wanted the three, so decided to wait till they either got wind of us and turned, or else came very close to us. The brutes had evidently wind of something or had heard some noise, for they were on the alert. Whatever was the cause of their alarm it did not prevent them from coming on till they were with- in twenty yards of us. Barring a miss-fire a kill was now a sure thing. Getting a sight on one of the big ones, I dropped him stone dead with the left barrel and almost on top of him killed the other one with the right. The small one gave a couple of leaps, stopped and turned round, facing me. By that time I had reloaded, and before he could get away I had doubled him up with my third shot. I gave a hurrah and turned to "Muskrat": he was gone. I shouted to him, meanwhile going down to the bank to have a look at my game and to see if there were any others in sight. That was the whole pack as I soon saw by the tracks. There were a dog, a she wolf and probably one of their pups. They were of the kind known here as the grey timber wolf, Canis lupus. "Muskrat" having returned, I sent him for the canoe. He took time to advise his uncle of our success, and when we landed, the whole family was there. On the way home I asked the little lad why he had deserted me. "Well," he said, "I had no gun, only your empty rifle, and I thought they were getting too close." 318 A SHORT AND EASY WOLF HUNT He had run away while I was getting ready for the first shot. He showed more pluck some years later, tackling three bears together, single-hand- ed, with a muzzle-loading shot gun. Two of these he killed, and the third got away from him be- fore he could reload. The skins of the two largest wolves measured seven feet and a half after being stretched and dried. The smallest was about a foot less in length. I kept them for a time as a trophy, and sold them afterwards to Mr. R. B. McLellan, a lumber merchant, of New Brunswick, who had taken a fancy to them. Three wolves within as many minutes, within a mile of one's house, is about as easy a hunt as one can wish for. It leaves Mr. Armstrong's annual wolf hunt "out of sight." Wall %mnt in ffipoming N October, 1882, during a hunting trip in that region, we camped one evening near a little spring on the northern slope of the Owl Creek Range a kind of spur of the Wind River Mountains in Wyoming. The altitude of our camp was about eight thousand feet above the sea level. Next morning I took a stroll around and found signs of game, elk and deer. Baron de la Grange, whose companion I was, decided that we should stay there for a few days in order to secure some meat for our own use and also to bring or send out some for the Officers' Mess at Fort Washakie. That same afternoon we shot two mule deer, which we packed down whole on our horses. On arriving at our camp I skinned and divided up the carcasses, and according to the usual trapper style I erected a small platform with fork trees to hang and lay the meat on, as it was then quite cold in the mountains. Next forenoon I killed another deer, and going to clean and prepare it in the same place, I noticed that all the scraps and feet which I had thrown away had disap- peared. On making a closer examination I saw tracks of either wolves or coyotes, but the ground was too hard and grassy to distinguish well. We went out together in the afternoon, but had no 320 ANOTHER EASY WOLF HUNT luck, and coming back along a small wood patch I flushed a covey of what the people there called blue grouse. It was in fact the dusky grouse, Tetrao obscurus. We had no shot gun, but with my revolver we got four and tied them to the strings of my saddle. On arriving at camp I told Lannigan, our cook, that we wanted them for our breakfast in the morning. I laid the sad- dle near a box outside of the cook's tent and went away to picket my horse. We had our supper, and shortly afterwards turned in, as we were to go out early next morn- ing. About half-past three a.m. I heard our cook around, and after a while he came to our tent to find out what we had done with the grouse. I told him that they were tied to the saddle as I had not touched them after laying them down with it. He said that they were not there, and when I had got up to see about them, I found that he was right. The strings were there, with the knots still in them, but the birds were gone. Feathers were strewn around, showing that the grouse had been stolen by some animal. Some- thing else was cooked for breakfast and we went away, but I swore that I would get even with that thief in the evening if possible. We got one more deer that day, and the Baron got two shots at an elk, through the woods, but had missed it. I followed the tracks for some distance in the hope that he might have been hit, ANOTHER EASY WOLF HUNT 321 but found no trace of blood. This, however, had delayed us, and we got into camp just a little be- fore dusk. I threw off the deer and saddle and laid my rifle down alongside and hurried to go and picket the horses. As I was walking along with the lariat in my hand I pondered what sort of a contrivance I would rig up that night for my grouse thief. I had no suitable size steel trap for a wolf, so I thought I would set a snare, which was quickly made. Suddenly, within ten feet of me, up started a coyote. I saw a whitish streak going through the grass, and pulling my Colts revolver I fired two shots, which I regretted im- mediately afterwards, as the light was too dark to shoot decently at such a fast moving target I was sorry, too, because I had scared the animal away, and thus lost my chance of getting it, as I felt sure that it must have been my grouse thief coming for more. When the weather was fine we always had our meals outside the tents, near the camp fire, both for comfort and cheerfulness. There was a. good blaze to the fire on this particular nighty shedding the light around for some distance. Chancing to look towards the west side of the gully I saw a large coyote sitting on his rump on the edge of a small ridge. He was about fortjr yards from us. Eeturning to the fire I pulled my revolver. I took careful aim and fired. There was a yell of pain and the whitish form went out 322 ANOTHER EASY WOLF HUNT of sight over the ridge. I ran for my rifle with the intention of trying to find the coyote with a light, when to my surprise I started another one near our saddles. This was getting rather excit- ing. My rifle was not loaded, so the animal sneaked away before I was ready. I did not hear the first one any more, and thought best to leave it alone for the moment and to try and get the last one, as apparently the shot at the first had not frightened it, and I imagined that it would come back. The idea occurred to me to try and bait it. I took the neck part of a deer and tied it securely by the middle with one of our lariats of half inch rope and sixty feet long. Laying the bait down at one extremity of the rope, to which it was fastened, I tied the loose end to one of the saddles and watched. I did not have to wait long. Soon there was tugging on the rope and I had a glimpse of the coyote in the dim light, for we had allowed the fire to diminish on pur- pose. I had my rifle this time. There was to be no more pop-gun business. I fired and there was not even time for a groan. There was a hole in the coyote's neck, almost cutting it clean through. The rifle was a 50 cal. Winchester Ex- press ! The sport was too good not to be kept up ; and from that time till half-past ten I killed two more coyotes and one cross fox. Next morning I went to look for the first one and found him ANOTHER EASY WOLF HUNT 323 dead in the grass a short distance away. The bullet had struck him on one side, breaking the shoulder bone and some of his ribs, going out at his back. We had frequently heard coyotes howl- ing during the night, apparently pretty close, (such howls at night are very deceptive as to distance), but I had always believed them to be too cowardly to come up near a fire, or a tent. Possibly our stock of deer meat attracted them or they were pressed by hunger. The wolf skins were prepared for mounting and taken home by the Baron, but the cross-fox I sold to Mr. J. K. Moore, post trader of Fort Washakie, for twelve dollars. I have been on a wolf hunt at other times, but these two hunts were the easiest and most successful I ever had. jftloreau CHARLES was a half-breed Montagnais In- dian, originally belonging to Escoumains, Saguenay. While still a baby, his father was drowned while out seal hunting. Gabriel Ash- ini "The Rock" and his wife, Charlotte, adopted the boy as their own and brought him up, and this was how it happened that much of his later life was spent at and around Pointe des Monts. I knew him intimately. He and I were great friends, and for some three or four winters we hunted within a few miles of each other and often met. Sometimes I and my partner would go and spend a Sunday evening at his camp and he would return the visit later. At such times the best he could afford was spread before us. A standing dish was porcupine cooked on the spit, and smoked or fresh beaver. Hares, grouse and fish were only served when larger game was not avail- able. They were considered too ordinary food for such special occasions. Charles was not cele- brated as a "mighty" hunter, although he was not a bad one either, but he was a celebrity in an- other way. He was a "mighty eater." His gas- tronomic performances were something extraor- dinary. I have heard and read of better ones, CHARLES MOREAU 325 but I never saw any. I will just cite a few which I witnesed, some at his own camp and some at our's. I saw him several times eat at one meal a whole porcupine cooked on the spit, a yearling beaver, or the tail and hind quarter of a large one. None of the above contained less than seven pounds of solid meat and fat. Besides this he would eat a good sized galette and drink three or four cups of tea to wash it down. On another occasion, in summer, I made him a present of a nine to ten pound salmon, which he polished off in one meal. He was once hired by Mr. Gaudet, a land surveyor, who was making some Government survey in this section. The poor fellow had probably been hard up for some time before and thought this was a fine chance to fill up, but unfortunately it did not last very long, as Mr. Gaudet had to discharge him, because he would otherwise have run out of provisions before completing his work. It appears from the cook's statement, that he used to eat from five to seven large sailors' biscuits and two pounds of pork per meal. He even stated and I believe it that on one occasion he had eaten about five pounds of pork in one meal! So it was no won- der that Mr. Gaudet did really fear that he might run short of provisions. One day at Pointe des Monts, several of us, who were seal hunters, were together, and Charles was of the number. As these feats of his were well known and frequently 326 CHARLES MOREAU talked of, some one asked him how many golden eye ducks he could eat at a sitting. Then some one else mentioned another bird, and so on, and Charles frankly told them how many of each he thought he could use at a meal. Finally some one asked how many snow buntings he could eat. He pondered a little and then said quietly, "If I had nothing else to do and was allowed to go out now and then, I could eat them forever !" Speak- ing about Indians with the late Col. Allan Gil- mour, while he was here one season, I happened to mention to him some of the above facts. He was not incredulous about it, but he said that he would like to see such a performance. As Charles and his family came to Godbout every year in July for the Mission, I determined I would do my best to satisfy him. Some time later Charles came along. I notified Mr. Gil- mour that Charles, my man, was on hand. It was arranged that he was to be invited next day for dinner, and the cook, Rodgers, was to keep note of what was disposed of. Going home that evening I called at Charles' wigwam, as I want- ed to prepare things so as to have no failure the next day. I said to him, "You are going to be invited to-morrow by Mr. Gilmour to dine at the camp, and I want to advise you what to do. When gentlemen like Mr. Gilmour invite a guest it is "Indian etiquette" or its equivalent that pre- vails. You must eat all you can of every dish CHARLES MOREAU 327 set before you; otherwise, if you eat too little, it will be considered a slight or an insult. "If I were in your place/ 5 I added, "to be quite sure of success I would have no breakfast to-morrow, and then I would be sure to have a fine appetite." He said it was all right and that I could rely on him. Next day about noon he strolled into the camp. I introduced him to Mr. Gilmour, and he was sent to betaken care of by Rodgers, whose report was as folows: "Three salmon steaks about one and a hal pounds, one ox tongue weighing two pouncs, about two pounds of cold ham, bread and potatoes and five cups of tea were disposed of. Then, for dessert, a one pound pot of Keiller's marmalade was set before him. He took about hilf of it, and then calling Rodgers, he said, 'I an very sorry I cannot eat the whole of it, but I dm't like the bitter taste!' Needless to say tie performance was considered quite satisfac- tory. Mr. Gilmour was always in the habit of giving sane slight present to any Indians who came to visit him, and on this occasion he gave Charles a par of blankets, adding, aside, that he hoped he wmld live long enough to use them! Meeting hin a day or two afterwards, I thought I would hive a little fun with him on the subject. So I said, "Well, Charles, what was wrong with you a1 camp the other day ? You did not make half 328 CHARLES MOREAU a meal ! They were pleased with you because they did not know what you can do sometimes/' "Well," he said, "I will tell you. That morn- ing I was awfully hungry and I held off till about nine o'clock, and then I had breakfast before go- ing up! I hope you are not vexed with ne." The poor chap was always afraid of doing any- thing that would displease me. Indians are said to be ungrateful, but ingrati- tude was certainly not one of his traits. ( The reason of his great friendship for me was tjiat I had saved his life on one occasion. He was bath- ing with another Indian boy of his age in the Godbout river, The shores are pretty steep, and in some places there are deep pools with a strong current. Neither he nor his companion could swim, but with the help of two small cedar pad- dles, Charles would float himself for a minute dr two. Coming down to the river, I saw theft there, and hiding behind some bushes I sat theie watching them, for they would neither bathe to- fore me nor with me. After he had splashed arouid for some minutes, the current drifted Charles o t into the channel. Letting himself down to res the water went over his head and he found deeper as he drifted. This so surprised him th he let go his paddles, striking the bottom with h feet. The first time he rose, his head came o^t of the water and he went down again almost quickly. His companion on the shore did not a CHARLES MOREAU 329 pear to notice anything wrong, thinking he was playing "seal." I rushed down the bank just as he disappeared for the second and last time. I had partly stripped while runing down the bank and jumping in I soon reached the place where I had last seen him. Looking around in the water I saw his long hair spread out looking like a jelly fish (Medusae). I dived and got a good grip of his hair and raised him out of the water. While I was doing this, he turned and got a grip on my arm which I felt for some time. I soon had him ashore. He was already unconscious, but soon re- covered, as I had first given him a good shaking face down, holding him by the middle of the body. The other chap had run away in the meantime, calling out and crying that Charles was drowned. In a few minutes the whole Indian population was down on the beach and Charles was carried up to his wigwam. Five years later I saved him a second time. It was in the month of April at Pointe des Monts. The day was fine and we were out sealing some three miles or so from the shore. There were a few scattered pans of ice here and there, and among these we were on the watch for hooded seals. Charles and a young Indian boy were about half a mile to the eastward of us. I heard him shoot, and standing up in my canoe I saw him harpoon his seal. When there are no pieces of ice around, it is customary for another canoe to 330 CHARLES MOREAU go and help to ship it in, as it is impossible for one canoe alone to ship such a large seal. Small or medium sized seals can be managed alone without much risk. In this case there was plenty of ice and no need for our help. He towed his seal to a nearby piece where he and his partner hauled it up on the ice. The canoe was then brought up alongside and partly turned over, one man holding it while the other rolled the seal over the gunwale. Then the canoe was righted again and the seal placed in a good position to balance the canoe evenly. While they were at work doing this, the united weight of seal, canoe and the two men, was too much for the strength of the ice they were on and it broke up, upsetting the canoe at the same time and scattering the pieces. They managed with a little wetting to get on one of the largest pieces, with the canoe, paddles and seal drifting away. They shouted with all their might, but it was too far to hear them. I chanced to see them, however, waving their arms and hats. I knew there was something wrong. We paddled with all our might towards them till we saw how they were fixed, and as there was no immediate danger we eased off a little. We got them both in and afterwards recovered the canoe and outfit, and also the seal, which being a fat one, was still floating. This second incident increased Charles' friend- ship still more and he could not sufficiently ex- CHARLES MOREAU 331 press his gratitude. Alas! poor fellow! he was bound to be drowned. Two years later, one fine and calm morning in May, he was out ducking in a bark canoe. The same young lad was with him, a son of William Jordan, the poacher. They were off Pointe des Monts lighthouse, about a quarter of a mile from shore. They fired a good many shots, and Mr. Ferd. Fafard, sr., who was then the lighthouse keeper, watched them for a long time through his telescope while they were shooting. The last time he saw them they were apparently chasing a wounded bird. Having something to attend to he entered the lighthouse, hearing a shot as he went in. A few minutes afterwards he returned and was rather surprised that the canoe was not in sight. He looked around carefully, but could see nothing. He then presumed that he had been away longer than he thought and that the canoe had gone ashore in one of the several little bays in the vicinity. They had gone out early in the morning. About one o'clock in the afternoon, seeing they did not return, old Gabriel got anxious about his adopted son. So he went to the lighthouse where he thought he might possibly be. He was then in- formed by Mr. Fafard of what he had seen, and it was thought that he might have gone to Trinity Bay, six miles east, for some goods or ammunition, as a store was then kept there to which they often went. Night came, however, 332 CHARLES MOREAU without any tidings of them. Early the next morning several canoes went out searching for them in every direction. Other people went on foot along the beach, but no trace of the missing hunters or their canoe was ever found anywhere. Some persons supposed that the canoe was cut or capsized by a large shark, but personally, I think the fatality was due to a gun accident. The young lad Jordan, who steered the canoe, had a gun as well as Charles, and I believe that his gun,, either accidentally or otherwise, went off and burst the bottom of the canoe or killed his com- panion, who may have upset the canoe in falling. Old Gabriel was very much affected by this loss and showed more grief than is usual amongst Indians. Charles had married a tall Nascapis woman, called Marie, when she was christened by the missionary. No one knew her by any other name. With her he had five daughters, only one of whom is now living. The accompany- ing photo shows all the then sorrowing members of the family. It was taken a year after the death of Charles. ANGELIQUE MICHEL A Montagnais Woman who Died at the Age of 106 Years (Photo by J. G. Bruneau) Old Gabriel, sitting; Behind him Charles Moreau's Widow and Child ; in the Middle, Charlotte, Gabriel's Wife. The Others are Daughters of Charles. Of this Group, Charles' Widow, and the Girl on the Right, are the only ones Living. (l9- ly preponderate over the females in this species, and Mr. Comeau tells me that the proportion is always about seven males to one female. 123. Mergus merganser. SHELLDRAKE. Tolerably common breeding about the fresh water. (Breeds early, nest found May 12th, 1884, contained five eggs. N.A.C.) 124. Mergus serrator. RED-BREASTED MERGANSER. Very com- mon, frequenting both fresh and salt water. (Some times win- ters and when not wintering an early migrant. N.A.C.) 125. Sula bassana. GANNET. Occasional. I have found it breeding in numbers at the west end of Antioosti, but do not think it nests farther up the gulf. (Breeds abundantly on Perroquet Islands. Some years abundant here, following her- ring and mackerel. N.A.C.) 126. Phalacrocorax carbo. COM if ON CORMORANT. Rare, but Mr. Cbmeau has shot several here. 127. Phalacrocorax dilophus. DOUBLE-CRESTED CORMORANT. Mr. Coineau shot a female May 19th, 1882. (Rare, does not breed here. N.A.C.) 128. Stercorarius pomatorhinus. POMARINE JAEGER. Rare. (Seen occasionally in August and September. N.A.C.) 129. Stercorarius parasiticus. PARASITIC JAEGER. Rather rare. Mr. Oomeau shot six in one day about the middle of May, 1874. (Seen frequently end of May, then August and September. A parasite of the kittywake gull and the terns. (N.A.C.) 130. Larus glaucus. GLAUCOUS GULL, ICE GULL. Rather LIST OF BIRDS* 429 rare. Usually seen in February, March and April. I have a handsome male which was shot by Mr. Comeau April 29th, 1882. 131. Larus leucopterus. WHITE- WINGED GULL. Not common. Commonly appears and disappears with the last. Mr. Comeau has shot it as late as May 1st. (Said to breed on the Seven Islands. N.A.C.) 132. Icarus marinus. GREAT BLACK-BACKED GULL. Breeds and is tolerably common. It is absent only in January and Febru- ary. July 17th, 1882, I found one of their nests on Great Boule, one of the Seven Islands. It consisted of a little coarse grass, placed in a slight depression in the rook and was lined with a sort of pad, about four inches in diameter, of beautiful soft down, on which reposed a single egg. The egg had been in- cubated, but failed to hatch. (Generally lays three to four eggs. N.A.C.) 133. Larus argentatus Smithsonianus. HERRING GULL. Very abundant, breeding plentifully on suitable rocks. Arrives about the middle or latter part of April, remaining into November. 134. Eissa tridactyla. KITTYWAKB. Breeds abundantly. Ar- rives late in April or early in May, remaining into December. This and the preceding are the commonest gulls along this part of the coast, and are constantly seen, both singly and in im- mense flocks. They follow tihe receding tide and cover the sand fiats that are exposed at low water, feeling upon the molluscs and other marine animals that abound in such situations. I have seen more than a thousand at one time. 135. Pagophila ebumea. IVORY GULL. Very rare. Mr. Co- meau shot a male in April, 1877, at Pointe des Monts. The speci- men was presented to the Museum at Bersimis Mission, where it is now preserved. (Dec. 9th, 1895, March 7t(h, 1906, Jan. 5th, 1908. N.A.C.) 136. Chroecocevhalus Philadelphia. BONAPARTE'S GULL. A tolerably common summer resident, arriving late in May. 137. Sterna macroura. ARCTIC TERN. Very abundant at cer- tain places where it breeds. Mr. Comeau once killed sixteen at one shot flying. It arrives early in June. (A very regular mi- grant, seldom varies more than a day or two in the date of ar- rival. N.A.C.) 138. Cymochorea leucorrhoa. LEACH'S PETREL. Common in 430 -LIST OF BIRDS summer (Probably an error. Not common May 21st, 1889, Sept. 25th, 1895, June 3rd, 1904. N.A.C.) 139. Colymbus torquatus. LOON. Common. Breeds about the fresh water lakes of the interior. I saw many, and heard others in the gulf near Pointe des Monts in July. Earliest seen, April 12th, 18S2. 140. Colymbus septentrionalis. RED-THROATED DIVER. Com- mon, breeding with the last, but not arriving so early, usually coming in May. (Height of the migration about first week in June. N.A.C. 141. Podicipes griseigena holbcelli. RED-NECKED GREBE. Rare. One shot in September. (October 19th, 1904. N.A.C.) 142. Podilymbus podicipes. DAB CHICK, HELL DIVER. Not rare. Killed both spring and fall. 143. Fratercula arctica. PUFFIN SEA PARROT. Not common as far up as Pointe des Monts, but very abundant on the Mingan Islands, where they breed by thousands. (Irregular stragglers up the St. Lawrence. Shot one near Tadousac in September, 1906. N.A.C.) 144. Alle nigricans. DOVLKIE. Very abundant in flocks dur- ing some winters, arriving early in December, and continuing till some time in February. During other winters it is rare or does not occur at all. (October 20th, 1883, October 28th, 1895, earliest recorded arrival. In November, 1904, there was a a ex- ceedingly large migration, which continued for about two weeks. They were flying westwards. For two or three hours each morn- ing large flocks would be passing up about as fast as we could count them. Millions passed during these two weeks. N.A.C.) 145. Uria grylle. BLACK GULLIMOT. SEA PIGEON. A com- mon resident, breeding not only here, but even on the islands off the mouth of the Saguenay, a hundred and fifty miles further up the St. Lawrence. (Nest found with four eggs, June 10th, 1889. Godbout N.A.C.) 146. Lomvia troile. FOOLISH GTJLLIMOT. MURRE. Like the Dovekie the Murre is sometimes very abundant here in winter, while during other winters it does not occur at all. It is not wary and does not even know enough to keep out of the way of dogs along the shore. It is well named the "Foolish" gullimot for both its habits and appearance deserve this appellation. In fact it looks like a perfect idiot, swimming over on one side as if one leg were broken and staring vacantly at its enemies with- LIST OF BIRDS 431 out attempting to eecape. Its tout ensemble is stupid and gawky. During the winter of 1875 they were so exceedingly abundant that Mr. Comeau shot about a thousand for their fea- thers, and his dog caught over fifty. They were all in very poor flesh, some being little more than animated skeletons, and a great many died and were washed ashore. (During the last few years there has been some extraordinary migrations of tihis bird, following the St. Lawrence to Lake Ontario and possibly fur- ther. Countless thousands died, apparently of starvation or ex- haustion, flying till they dropped down. Anywhere in the woods or on our lakes and rivers one was sure to find them dead. A large migration of snowy owls followed in their wake each time, feeding on them extensively. Last November (1908 I saw large numbers of Murres near Quebec. N.A.C.) 147. Utamania torda. RAZOR-BILLED AUK. Not common here but breeds on the Mingan Islands. (Fairly abundant some years, moves south in November. Much shyer bird than the murre and a very strong diver. Considerable numbers seen August 20th, 1890. N.A.C.) From BULL. NUTT. ORNITH CLUB, Vol. 8, No. 4, Oct., 1883, p. 244 ADDENDUM to list of birds ascertained to occur within ten miles of Pointe des Monts, Province of Quebec, Canada, based chiefly upon the notes of Napoleon A. Comeau. Mr. Comeau has recently sent me skins of 1he following species, that were not in the original list. They were all killed at Godbout in May and June, 1883. 148. Dendrceca ccErulescens. (BLACK-THROATED BLUB WAR- BLER. Not common. June 7th, 1883. N.A.C.) 149. Vireo flaviviridis. YELLOW GREEN VIRES. For further remarks upon this species, which has not previously been record- ed from Northern North Am-rioa, see page 213. (A Southern bird accidental here, May 18th, 1883. N.A.C.) 150. Dolichonyx oryzivorous. BOB-O-LINK. Rare. Not known to breed here. (June 2nd, 1884. N.A.C. June 6th, 1883.) 161. Scolecophagus ferrigeneus. (RusTY GRACKLE. Toler- ably common spring and fall. May 2nd, 1883, May 3rd, 1885, and November 9th, 1900. N.A.C.) 152. Empidonax minimus. (LEAST FLY-CATCHER. Common and from dates seen probably breeds. June 6th, 1883. N.A.C.) 432 LIST OF BIRDS 153. Empidonax trailli. (TRAILS FLY-CATCHBB. Tolerably common. August 6th, 1883. N.A.C.) 154. Contopus borealis. (OLIVE-SIDED FLY-CATOHER. Rather rare bird. June 6th, 1883, June 3rd, 1888. N.A.C.) 155. Tryngites rufescens. (RED-BREASTED SAND-PIPER. Rare. August 7th, 1883, August 28th, 1883. N.A.C.) 156. Tringa alpina americana. DUNLIN Ox- BIRD. Rare. Aug. 28th, 1883, Sept. 7th, 1888. N.A.C.) (From THE ATTK, Vol. I, No. 3, July, 1884.) SECOND ADDENDUM to list of birds, by C. H. Merriam. Mr. Comeau has sent me skins of the following named species, taken by him at Godbout, and not previously recorded from that locality. 157. Saxicola wnanthe. (.WHEAT-EAR. A straggler from Eu- rope via Greenland. I have established beyond any doubt that this bird breeds here, as the following dates of capture will show: May 17th, May 18th, 1884, two female birds. May 24th, 1885, Sept. 19th, 1885, Sept. 30th, 1889, Oct. 17th, Oct. 19th, 1889 two young birds. Nov. 9th, 1886, Sept. 14th, 1891, Sept. 9th, 1894. Ten birds shot to be absolutely sure of its identity, and I saw probably as many more that I did not shoot. N.A.C.) 158. Passerella iliaca. (Fox SPARROW. Not common. (Oct. llth, 1883, May 21st, 1888. N.A.C.) 159. Spizella monticola. (TREE SPARROW. Tolerably com- mon. August 7th, 1883, June 1st, 1885. N.A.C./ 160. Passer domesticus. (ENGLISH SPARROW. Apparently do not migrate very fast in this direction, as I have only seen one other specimen since I shot the present one mentioned. May 27th, 1884. N.A.C.) 161. Empidonax flaviventris. (YELLOW-BELLIED FLY-CATCHER. Rather rare. August 9th, 1883, June 6th and 15th, 1884, June 9th, 1885. 162. Tringa canwtus. ROBIN SNIPE. KNOT. Rare. Two specimens August 7th, 1883. Not seen since. N.A.C.) 163. Accipiter fuscus. (PIGEON HAWK. Tolerably common. Breeds May 2nd, 1884, August 25th, 1889. N.A.C.) 164. Melospiza lincolni. (LINCOLN'S FINCH. Rare. June 2nd, 1884. August 25th, 1885. Seems to go much further north. LIST OF BIRDS 433 Saw on specimen at Kegaska, Labrador, in August. 1897. N.A.C.) 165. Melospiza palustris. (SWAMP SPARROW. Tolerably com- mon. June 2nd, 1884. N.A.C.) 166. Falco peregrinus ncevius. (DucK HAWK. I have shot several of these hawks, but they cannot be considered as com- mon. June 2nd, 1884, Nov. 20th, 1884, Sept. 8th, 1906. N.A.C.) 167. Passerina cyanea. (INDIGO BUNTING. Rare. Straggler. June 8th, 1884. N.A.O.) 168. Siurus auricapillus. (O\BN-BIRD. Not very common. Breeds. Its loud note often heard in the evening. June 9th, 1884. N.A.C.) 169. Sphyrapicus varius. (SAPSUOKER. Not rare. June 13th, 1884. N.A.O.) 170. Picoides tridactylus americanus. (BANDED WOODPECKER. A resident. Species not very common in summer. Nov. 10th, 1883. June 2nd, 1895. April 12th, 1899. N.A.C.) C. Hart MERRIAM, M.D., Locust Grove, New York. Since the original list and the two addenda have been publish- ed I have added the following species, all taken within the ori- ginal limit described by Dr. Merriam. The Nomenclature and order followed is that given in Coue's "Key to North America Birds," 1872. 171. Turdus palassii. HERMIT THRUSH. Not common. Nov. 10th, 1886. 172. Anorthura troglodytes. WINTER WREN. Tolerably com- mon. ' Breeds. July 7th, 1884. 173. Dendrceca castanea. BAT-BREASTED WARBLER. Appar- ently rare. M y 25th, 1885. 174. Dendrceca palmarum. PALM WARBLER. Not common. May 25th, 1885. 175. Cotyle riparia. SAND MARTIN. Common. Breeds. May 26th, 1885. 176. Progne purpurea. PURPLE MARTIN. Not common. May 20th, 1896. 177. Pooecetes gramineus. GRASS FINOH. Irregular migrant. April 24th, 1885. 178. Spizella so^ialis. CHIPPING SPARROW. Rather rare here. June 1st, 1905. 434 LIST OF BIRDS! 179. Molothrus recoris. COWBIRD. Rare. Only two specimens shot. July 7th, 1884. 180. Sturnella magna. FIELD-LARK. Rather rare. Breeds. April 19th, 1900, May 4th, 1902. 181. Milvulus forficatus. SCISSOR-TAIL. Rare. Only speci- men seen and shot. August 14th, 1894. 182. Sayornis sayus. SAYS FLYCATCHER. Apparently rare. October 19th, 1895. One specimen only. 183. Trochilus colubris. RURY-THROATED HUMMING BIRD. Rare. August 10th, 1885, July 16th, 1895. A few others seen. 184. Coccyzus erythrophthalmus. BLACK-BILLED CUCKOO. Rare. August llth, 1885. Only one other bird of this species seen since. 185. Scops asio. SCREECH OWL. Tolerably common. A very noisy bird and easily attracted by a fire. Can bark, whistle and yell and make the most unearthly sounds. Many a tender foot has been frightened by its howls in the middle of the night. Often shot specimens. One date, Nov. 9th, 1889. 186. Syrnium cinereum. GREAT-GREY OWL. Not rare. Feb. 6th, 1889. March 10th, 1902. 187. Accipiter cooperii. CHICKEN HAWK. Tolerably common. May 12th, 1884, May 8th, 1885. 188. Falco colombarius. PIGILON FALCON. Not common. May 21st, 1889, May 2nd, 1894. 189. L^teo pennsylvanicus. BROAD- WINGED BUZZARD. Toler- ably common. Seems to breed further north. Southern migra- tions begins about end of September. October 8th, and 9th, 1884. 190. Cathartes aura. TURKEY BUZZARD. Very rare. I know of only one specimen which I identified. It was caught in a steel bear trap by a hunter here August 27th, 1894. 191. Lagopus l^ucurus. HITE-TAILBD PTARMIGAN. Appar- ently a very rare bird here. I shot one on December 7th, 1894. The bird was somewhat smaller than the ordinary willow ptar- migan, but possibly an albino of the same? 192. Philohela minor. WOODCOCK. Very rare. Shot the only on I ever saw here on August 17th, 1886, after a very strong gale of southwesterly winds. A year or two later I killed an- other at Manicouagan, thirty miles west of here, some time in September. LIST OF BIRDS 435 193. Limosa hudsonica. HTJDSONIAN GODWIT. Bare Sept 17th, 1895. 194. T&tanus semipalmata. WILLBT. A few stragglers. Aug 21st, 1886, Sept. 19th, 1895. 195. Actiturus bartramius. FIELD PLOVER. Not common. May 12th, Aug. 20th, 1883, May 15th, 1887, Sept. 2nd, 1906. 196. Porzana Carolina. CAUOLANA RAIL. Not common. Breeds. August 24th, 1906, August 17th, 1907, August lOth and 15th, 1885. 197. Anas boschas. MALLARD. Not common. Sept. 18th, 1889, Oct. 9th, 1907, Oct. 21st, 1908. 198. Anas obscura rubripes. RED-LEGGED BLACK DUCK. Com- mon. Since the issue of "Distribution and Migration of North American Ducks, Geese and Swans," U. S. Dept. of Agriculture, 1906, I have given some attention to this variety of the "black duck," and find that about one half the birds we kill here have the red legs, which to me seems to be the only difference between the two species. Nov. 19th, 1907, I saw several large flocks of black ducks migrating south. Have seen some stragglers later than that. 199. Aix sponsa. WOOD DUCK. Very rare. Have seen a straggler now and then. May 17th, 1895. 200. Fuligula marila. BLTJE-BILL. Tolerably common in Sep- tember and October. Often seen with golden-eye duck. Sept. 23rd, 1895. 201. Somateria stellerii. STELLBRS EIDER. Rare. I sent the skin of this bird to Dr. Merriam for identification, and giving him the date which unfortunately I have either lost or mislaid. March, 1895? 202. Erismatura rubida. RUDDY DUCK. Rare. May 8th, 1896. 203. Mergus cucullatus. HOODED MERGANSER. Rare. Sept. 4th, 1885. Sept. 10th, 1889. 204. Tachypetes aquilus. MAN-OF-WAR BIRD. Only one speci- men ever seen here, and that on August 13th, 1884. The bird seemed very shy and I could not get within range. The next day, August 14th, it was observed at Manicouagan, from the light ship by Captain Leblanc. 205. Sterna hirundo. COMMON TERN. Common during the migrations. Breeds further north. May 20th, 1884. Is an early date for them. 436 LIST OF BIRDS 206. Thalassogeron culminatus. YELLOW-NOSED ALBATROSS. Accidental. This bird was killed at Moisie, seventy miles east of Godbout, on the 20th of August, 1885. It was shot by Mr. Couillard Despres, a fisherman and acquaintance of mine. I aw the bird three or four days after he killed it. I advised him to send the skin to the Laval University Museum, Quebec, where it is now preserved. I enter this bird in my list as being of special interest, although not actually taken within the ori- ginal limit given. Mr. Montague Chamberlain has published a short article on this specimen which he saw >at Laval Universi- ty Museum. See AUK for Jan. 1888 p. 107, and for July, 1888, p. 318. 207. Procellaiia pelagica. STORMY PETREL. Not common. May 18th, 1885, October 6th, 1889. 208. Puffinis major. GREATER SHEARWATER. Rare. August 11, 1896. Only one seen. NOTE. The dates given in the above list indicate when the birds were shot for identification and only these are entered. Where many specimens were secured or witih the most common birds, the earliest or latest dates were entered in preference. I have also shot here the following Albino birds : RED-THROATED DIVER One specimen. RTTFPLED GROUSE " LONG-TAILED DUCK. Harelda glacialis " DOVEKIE. M ergulus alle " VESPER SPARROW. Pooecetes gramineus ONE SURF SCOOTER. 0. perspicilldta The five fijret were sent to Dr. C. H. Merriam, and are all in the Smithsonian Collection, I believe. The last was sold to Mr. Wm. Couper, Taxidermist, of Montreal. Besides this I have seen here one albino eider and another scooter, probably of the species of 0. Americana. Hist of ^lustrations Author's Portrait Frontispiece PAGE Bird's-eye vi^w of the Lower Godbout Facing 54 Falls at the Upper Pool of the Godbout " 54 Lynx in Trap " 66 The late John Brown " 66 Glacial Bed at St. Pancras Cove " 66 "Entogan" (Bone spear) on 114 "Negog" (Indian salmon spear) " 115 Harp Seal Facing 126 Newly-born Harbor Seal " 126 Hooded Seal " 126 Hauling Seals Ashore " 126 Falls of the Mistassini River '. . . " 172 Salmon Pool on the Mistaasini River " 172 Pic-nic at a Salmon Net Station " 184 A Lobster-fishing Party " 184 Major and Mrs. Scott with Trophies tnd Guides.. " 222 Mr. Joe Comeau " 230 Pointe des Monts Lighthouse " 234 Flaying a Seal " 234 Entrance of the Mistassini River " 234 Mission House, Bersimis Indian Reserve " 262 English Bay River, Manicouagan " 262 Shoulder Blade Reading " 265 Goose Shooting Party " 276 Goose Shooting Camp " 276 Map showing migrations of Willow Ptarmigan on 289 Three Golden Eagles Facing 312 Snaring Hares The Result " 312 Angelique Michel " 332 438 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE Old Gabriel and Chas. Moreau's family Facing 332 SS. Aranmore, the N. S. mail boat of to-day " North Shore Mail Boat of 50 years ago " Founders of Weymahegan Salmon Club Fishing the "Shay" Pool, Godbout River " The Lairds of the Godbout " Head of Male Salmon (Spawning Time) on 346 346 406 406 406 438 The end of the salmon spawning season finds many an old male salmon with a hooked lower jaw, similar to that from which the artist has made the following draw- ing, and so the end of the book finds a Head for a Tail piece. (See Page 179.) Cable of Contents PAGE Dedication 3 Introduction 5 Preface 11 Early Life 18 My Return from School 29 "Unaccountables" and other shots 36 Shooting accidents 46 Appointed Guardian of Godbout 61 I commence Trapping 69 Trapping Lynx 66 Beaver 70 Marten and other small Mammals 76 Pennant's Marten or Fisher 80 Bear stories 86 Poachers 109 A True Ghost Story 116 Seals and Seal Shooting on the St. Lawrence 126 An Old-Time Caribou Hunt 161 A Tragedy on the North Shore 161 On Angling 168 The Salmon and its Migrations 175 Lost in the Wilderness 196 The Death of Robitaille 216 Major Hy. Scott and How He Lost his Cane 218 What to do if Lost in the Woods 223 Across the St. Lawrence 234 Our Return Journey 267 Shoulder Blade Reading 264 Duck Shootii g 267 Goose Shooting 276 440 TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE A Little Swan Shoot 280 Grouse and other Land Birds 284 Some Easy Ways of Getting Birds 296 An Indian's Opinion of Sir Edmund Head 300 The Great Horned Owl 304 Three Golden Eagles 310 A Short and Easy Wolf Hunt 314 Easy Wolf Hunt in Wyoming . . 319 Charles Moreau 324 Dr. W. H. Drummond 333 Mail Service 337 Trout 347 What is a Sea Trout? 352 A Lucky Cast 356 Salmon $frvers 359 Salmon 'Records on our Best Rivers 368 " " on the St. John 368 " " " " Moisie 374 " " " " Trout River 378 Fifty Years' Salmon Fishing on the Godbout 380 Bird List 417 Liot of Illustrations . 437 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY BERKELEY Return to desk from which borrowed. This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 2 1954 LD 21-100m-7,'52(A2528sl6)476 1 YC 09906 M312322