CHAPTER XVIII.  AN EXCITING MOOSE-HUNT.
1826.
An interesting group of gentlemen was seated round a table covered with maps and papers in the dining-room of the Chief's house, arranging plans for the building of the Rideau Canal. They had been discussing for over an hour the relative merits of three different points at which the canal should diverge from the Ottawa River.
 COLONEL BY 
COLONEL BY
"Anyone with half an eye could see that there is but one spot where the locks of the new canal should be constructed, and that is at Rafting Bay, between Nepean Point and the Western Bluff," said a soldierly-looking man, about five feet ten in height, with dark hair, florid complexion, and portly form, who wore the uniform of an officer. It was Colonel By, a Royal Engineer sent out by the British Government to overlook the work of strengthening the military defences of Canada. "The men who made the survey," he continued, "did not count the cost of such works if constructed at the mouth of the Rideau. Think of the height of it! We want a connecting point with the Ottawa River which will be less steep and abrupt."
"In my opinion," said the Chief, "you should follow the natural undulation between the Rideau and the Ottawa River above the Chaudiere Falls, and surmount the cataract by locks, which could easily be constructed on the south side of the river, as the north side is not available owing to the existence of our lumber slides. This would throw the upper Ottawa open for navigation."
"I assure your Excellency," said the Colonel, ignoring the suggestion and addressing a dignified and thoughtful-looking man of courtly manners, "there is but one place for the junction of the canal with the Ottawa River, and that is the place I have designated. The cost of constructing the connecting link for a mile southward to the Rideau will be as nothing compared with the cost of building the locks at the Rideau Falls."
"I am quite convinced that your conclusion is a sound one," said Lord Dalhousie, "but I would like to have Colonel Durnford's opinion in the matter."
"Since inspecting the proposed route this morning, gentlemen," said the Colonel, "I quite agree with Colonel By, that the attempt to construct locks at the mouth of the Rideau would be highly undesirable; but that is not the only fault that I find with the plans. The specifications provide for a canal which would be so narrow as to be entirely unsuited for military service as well as for the commercial requirements of the country. It would seem desirable, therefore, that your Excellency should urge upon the War Department the necessity of making the canal sufficiently wide to take vessels from one hundred and ten to one hundred and thirty feet long and forty to fifty feet wide and drawing eight feet of water."
"I agree with you," said Lord Dalhousie, "We are building for the future of the country. Let us build well. What is the expenditure of an additional amount of twenty or thirty thousand pounds to the British Government when we consider the issues at stake?"*
* In the eyes of the parliamentarians of London, who knew nothing of the country or the work, the sum seemed enormous. A Committee of the House of Commons was appointed, before whom Colonel By was summoned. The members treated him with scant courtesy, and no acknowledgment of his valuable services to the Empire was made. Colonel Durnford, R.E., an officer of unusually high character and great experience, was treated in a manner ill-befitting his rank and services. The only charge against him was that he had expended twenty-two thousand pounds in excess of the parliamentary grant, a most trivial offence, as he had been instructed "to proceed with all despatch consistent with economy." Colonel By was deeply hurt by such criticisms, and died a few years later from a disease directly attributable to the unjust treatment he had received.—Edwards.
Among other matters of importance discussed at the meeting was the desirability of uniting the two sides of the river—the two provinces—by a bridge. It was finally decided to call for tenders the following day, when the formal ceremony of turning the first sod in the building of the canal would be performed by Lord Dalhousie.
The visitors had accepted the invitation of the Chief to go on a moose-hunting expedition up the Gatineau. It was early morning in the first week of October when a party of eight left for Bearie's farm on the banks of the Gatineau. As they drove through the orchard which sloped gently eastward to the creek below, the trees presented an unusually gay appearance bending under their weight of mellow apples, some of crimson and some of a rich golden hue.
Following the Columbia road through groves of brilliant maple and sombre pine, they arrived in due time on the banks of the river opposite an island, where men, canoes, and provisions were waiting for them. Their destination was the vicinity of a large cave at Wakefield, sometimes called the "mammoth cave," where they had arranged to camp for several days.
The party consisted of Lord Dalhousie, Colonel By, Colonel Durnford, the Chief, Bearie, Christie, a Frenchman named Joe Leclaire, an Irish cook named Michael O'Flanagan, and Ephraim Meyers, a Yankee, who had the reputation of being the best shot in the settlement.
The Governor was the life of the party, and related many amusing incidents connected with his varied experiences in the wilds of Canada, which kept the men in good-humor, notwithstanding the numerous and difficult portages.
On reaching the camp-ground all hands were soon at work pitching tents, building a fire and attending to other necessary preparations; after which they sat round the fire while Michael prepared the evening meal.
"Well, Mike," said Colonel By, "what do you think of this country? How does it compare with ould Oireland?"
"Och, sur," said Michael, respectfully touching his hat, "I niver seed the loike. Them skeeters bates all that iver I seen—the knaves!"—rubbing his hands and arms vigorously—"shure they drive me narely mad. I niver shall forgit the furst time they swarumed around me like a a swarum of bays, an' I tuk me blankits and ran down to the river an' roulled mesilf up and went to shlape on the rocks. Well, sur, d'ye think they'd lave a poor crathure alone? Not thim, the brutes! Shure as you're alive, sur, they came out with their lanterns an' ye'd see a flash here and a flash there; an' kill 'em? ye moight as well try to kill the divil himsilf, for soon as I could get nare them, out would go their light, an' they'd all cum buzzin' round tazin' and tormintin' me.
"Sez I to mesilf, 'Begorra, whin I get yez I'll finish yez; so I will, begorra, I will.' Well, sur, I'm tellin' yez the truth whin I say that they began pipin' out: 'Begorra! begorra! begorra!' and their mates cried out, 'Ye will? Ye will? Ye will?' till I cud shtand it no longer, so I put for the shanty as quick as me two legs could carry me."
By this time all the men round the camp-fire were in fits of laughter, in which the Irishman joined heartily. His superstitious dread of 'skeeters,' was modified when they explained to him that fire-flies, frogs and tree-crickets had contributed each a share to the tragic drama.
"Could you not give us a few suggestions which will assist us in becoming successful moose-hunters?" said Lord Dalhousie, addressing Meyers, who stood bare-headed, sheltering with his hat a faint flickering flame on a piece of "punk," which had been kindled by a tiny spark from his flint and steel, while he tried to light his pipe.
"Wal," he said, "I reckon there's only two ways to shoot a moose: one is to coax him within range by imitating the call of his mate; the other way is to make a salt lick for him. At this time of the year the buck begins to harden his horns, and he lies on the sides of the hills in the sun and rubs his horns against the bushes to get off the bark or velvety skin. If you want to get a crack at him you'll have to be mighty sly and keep to leeward of him, for if the wind blows from you to him he will scent you. Always hunt against the wind, and when you sight one aim at the knee of the fore-leg. Then raise the muzzle slowly until you sight the body following up the leg. Don't hold your breath or it will make you tremble. Breathe freely until you are ready to pull the trigger."
Meyers paused for a moment to take a few whiffs from his pipe.
"What do you mean by a salt lick?" asked Colonel By, who sat with his back securely gummed to the trunk of a spruce tree, with both hands thrust into his pocket.
"It's just an easy way of gettin' a shot at a deer," replied Meyers. "You choose a place where he'll be likely to pass, and put some salt in the hollow of an old log, or in a hole near the foot of a tree. Then you climb the tree and sit there and wait, and when the deer comes to lick the salt you may safely unhitch the contents of your rifle, for they rarely observe anything higher than their heads."
"There is one important fact which applies not only to moose-hunting but also to hunting in general, and which should not be forgotten," said Bearie, who lay full length on his blanket with his chin resting on his hands. "Never go to see what you have shot without first reloading your gun. The animal may not be badly wounded, and may run away or may attack you."
"If you happen to get sight of a buck, a doe and a fawn together, for they generally keep together at this time of the year," said Meyers, "aim at the doe first, for the buck and the fawn will both stay round; then aim at the buck, and you will probably secure all three."
Several days passed. The party had not sighted anything in the way of large game, though they had discovered numerous evidences that the neighborhood was frequented by moose.
One evening they had all returned to the camp save Colonel Durnford and Christie. Overcome by their exertions, the remainder of the party, with the exception of the Chief, had retired early and slept heavily. A low moaning wind had arisen and was sobbing round the camp.
"What was that?" said the Chief, rousing Bearie, who was on his feet in a moment. "It sounded like a shriek, followed by a strange laugh, like the laugh of a maniac. Colonel Durnford and Christie have not returned yet, and I fear something has happened."
They listened intently. Nothing could be heard but the wind whistling through the half-naked branches of the trees and rustling the dead leaves that covered the ground. The moon fell in slanting rays across the Laurentian hills. Dark clouds were hurrying up from the horizon, and soon the whole scene was plunged in darkness.
"Hush! there it is again," said the Chief, in a state of breathless expectancy. "It seems to be coming nearer. Could either of them have met with an accident, I wonder?"
Rousing the others, they seized their guns and followed the narrow path along the bank of the river in the direction whence the sound seemed to come. All was darkness—utter darkness. Suddenly there was a wild scream from the forest on the opposite bank. Its echoes had hardly ceased when it was answered by a similar cry from the trees above, followed by the same strange laugh. It proved to be the voice of the white-headed eagle calling to his mate.
What had become of Christie and the Colonel was the question which perplexed the mind of every man in the party. They called and called again, but there was no answer. They penetrated into the woods with lighted torches, but could find no trace of them. They discharged an old Queen Anne gun, which had the reputation of making the loudest report of any of the firearms in their possession, but there was no response.
At the first glimmer of daylight they organized a search-party, but not until late in the afternoon was suspense relieved by the return of the missing pair to the camp.
"We must have walked five miles," said the Colonel, "following the course of a small stream. On ascending a low hill we looked cautiously over its crest. Before us was a scene I shall never forget. Several huge animals were standing within range under a clum............