By far the best place for calling, if one is in a moose country, is
from a canoe on some quiet lake or river. A spot is selected midway
between two open shores, near together if possible. On whichever side
the bull answers, the canoe is backed silently away into the shadow
against the opposite bank; and there the hunters crouch motionless
till their game shows himself clearly in the moonlight on the open
shore.

If there is no water in the immediate vicinity of the hunting ground,
then a thicket in the midst of an open spot is the place to call. Such
spots are found only about the barrens, which are treeless plains
scattered here and there throughout the great northern wilderness.
The scattered thickets on such plains are, without doubt, the islands
of the ancient lakes that once covered them. Here the hunter collects
a thick nest of dry moss and fir tips at sundown, and spreads the
thick blanket that he has brought on his back all the weary way from
camp; for without it the cold of the autumn night would be unendurable
to one who can neither light a fire nor move about to get warm. When a
bull answers a call from such a spot he will generally circle the
barren, just within the edge of the surrounding forest, and unless
enraged by jealousy will seldom venture far out into the open. This
fearfulness of the open characterizes the moose in all places and
seasons. He is a creature of the forest, never at ease unless within
quick reach of its protection.

An exciting incident happened to Mitchell, my Indian guide, one
autumn, while hunting on one of these barrens with a sportsman whom he
was guiding. He was moose calling one night from a thicket near the
middle of a narrow barren. No answer came to his repeated calling,
though for an hour or more he had felt quite sure that a bull was