A PAPER in a recent number of The Century Magazine, by Mr. Madison Grant, has suggested the thought of how little is known, and how little has been written, about the_game in the Province of Ontario. It is not improbable that there is no other region where game is so abundant near the habitations of civilization; yet, very little is known about the haunts and habits of our wild animals, except by the trapper and hunter.

With the exception of the able, and, as a book of reference, valuable report of the Fish and Game Commission, recently published by the Ontario Government, there has been scarcely an effort made by any writer to draw the attention of the public to the fact, that as a field for the sportsman, the Province of Ontario stands second to no province or state on this continent.

It is to be regretted that amongst the numerous newspaper correspondents and others of literary ability, who spend a considerable portion of every summer rusticating amidst the beauties of our northern wilds, scarce one seems to know anything at all about the vast hordes of the lordly moose, the caribou, and, although much smaller, the still more graceful red deer, which roam through our backwoods.

It is the opinion of most people that game is not now as plentiful in Ontario as it was in the early days of the century. This opinion is correct so far as it applies to the settled parts of the province. But probably the moose, the caribou and the red deer, and, with the exception of the beaver, the fur-bearing animals generally, were never more numerous in the back woods of the province than they now are. We must not overlook the fact that a century ago they formed. the staple food of the Indian tribes which peopled nearly the whole of our wilds. But this cause of the destruction of the game is now, in many parts, entirely removed.

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Some persons blame the Indians for the almost total extinction of the beaver during the last few years. But this is entirely erroneous. full-blooded aborigine, although noted for his improvidence, is not ignorant of the consequences of killing the goose that lays the golden eggs, and was ever careful, while he had the hunting-ground to himself, not to destroy in one season more than half the beaver in any pond or lake.

So, also, with the moose and deer; there was no slaughtering for the skins alone, leaving the carcases to rot in the woods and taint the atmosphere, or to be used as bait for bears and

wolves. But with the advent of the more provident, more enlightened and intelligent pale face, a sudden change took place. The white hunter seemed imbued with the idea that what he failed to take in one season might fall into the hands of some one else the next, and that rather than let another share in the annual harvest, it were better to do wanton destruction of the game. And the Indian, as a matter of course, seeing the reaping-hook of another at work in his harvest-field, and ever ready to imitate his white brother in evil, imitated him in this work, with the consequence that, where less than twenty years ago, scarce a creek was to be met with without its beaver dam, pond, and one or more families of beaver, one may now travel for days without falling in with a single fresh sign of that most valuable and interesting animal.

Our Government acted wisely a few years ago when they enacted a law prohibiting the killing of the beaver for a term of years. If that act is strictly enforced, our backwoods will be almost as quickly re-stocked with it, as they were depleted. For the beaver is one of the most prolific of creatures, and has few enemies which prey upon it. Here is an illustration of how quickly beavers increase in numbers, if left to themselves :

A Hudson's Bay post was located near a small pond, in which there were two beavers, a male and female. For four years in succession the officer in charge of the post caught four young ones, and in the fifth year three,nineteen in all, and yet the old couple had eluded his vigilance, and were still alive and free. They had intelligence enough to keep out of danger themselves, but lacked the ability to impart their knowledge to their young. Had none of them been taken, the natural increase of that one couple would, at the end of five years, have amounted to nearly fifty individuals It was only after the most thorough and careful enquiry that the legisla

ture passed the Fish and Game law of 1892. And, no doubt, some weighty reasons must have been impressed upon them before they enacted the clause allowing trapping, up till the 1st of April. That section should certainly be amended. All the fur-bearing animals bring forth their young between the middle of April and the middle of May, and to kill a female for at least two months before that date, simply means the wanton destruction of from two to six kittens in each case.

This clause seems to be almost universally condemned by trappers and all acquainted with the habits of the animals. The only reason I have ever heard urged in its favor is, that the fur of the muskrat is then at its best, and the animal is full-grown. But even if such be the case, the taking of the old females at that time, will more than counterbalance the enhanced value of the fur, which, at best, never exceeds 25 cents per skin. It is an admitted fact that the fur of the mink is at its best during the coldest winter months, and begins to fade as soon as the mild weather of spring sets in; and it is also admitted that the fur of a mink taken before it has begun to fade on the live animal, will last longer, before showing signs of chang ing color, than that of one taken later on in the season. If that section were remodelled, and the 1st of February substituted for the 1st of April, it would undoubtedly lead to a vast increase both in the number and quality of these animals annually taken.

The taking of the fisher is also prohibited for a term of years. The exemption of this animal was undoubtedly a mistake. Although yielding a valuable fur, it is a quest on whether or not the number of other fur-bearing animals annually destroyed by him, does not much more than make up for the saving effected by the preservation of his own skin. It might not be out of place to change his name altogether, and, instead of fisher, call him the pirate of the woods, for all is

fish for his net. Every animal he is strong enough to master, and can in any way lay hold of, he considers his lawful prey. And it is of daily occurrence, in sections of country frequented by him, for trappers, when going their rounds, to find they have been forestalled by the fisher, and the game eaten out of their traps and deadfalls.

The ominous title of Mr. Grant's paper, "The Vanishing Moose," is suggestive, and would lead to the belief that the animal is nearly extinct. This may hold good south of the St. Lawrence, but it does not apply, nor will it, I trust, to Ontario, for many decades yet.

Mr. Grant says: "Their extreme eastern limit, north of our southern border, is the Lake of the Woods and Dog Lake, in Manitoba, around which they are still numerous," and further on, "that a few may still be found in the once famous Muskoka deer country," but that "the best place to get one now is on the east side of the Ottawa River, above Mattawa."

Mr. Grant's paper, I make no doubt, is perfectly accurate, in so far as regards what we might call the geography of the moose to the south of us, but when he comes to deal with the moose in Ontario, he shows himself to have been wrongly informed, for at no period of our own known history were the moose so plentiful as now, in the Muskoka, Nipissing and Rainy River districts, and the unsettled parts of the Huron and Ottawa Territory.

It would seem as if our larger game had been in the habit of suddenly for saking certain sections of country altogether, for a term of years, and then as suddenly returning to their former haunts, for in nearly all parts of Ontario the decayed antlers and bones of both moose and elk are frequently found. But it is only within the last few years that moose were to be met with west of the Ottawa River, south of the Mattawa, French River and

Lake Nipissing No elk seem as yet to have returned to any part of that district.

Six years ago I met, at the head of Lake Temiscaming, an old Indian, who was then seventy-four years of age, but has since passed over to the happy hunting-ground. He had been born and hai spent nearly all his life in that locality. He said, in his own quaint, broken English: "Long ago, plenty deer, plenty beaver, plenty bear, plenty wolf no caribou, no moose. Now, no deer, no wolf a few beaver, some bears, a few caribou, p-l-e-n-t-y moose."

It may sound somewhat paradoxical, but is none the less true, that different families of the same species of animals, as well as distinct species, like man, seem to prefer having certain districts entirely to themselves, notwithstanding the fact that, both as regards food and climate, the country may be equally well adapted for all of them. Thus, while the otter, beaver, and nearly all the smaller fur-bearing animals are found all over the Dominion, of the different varieties of the bear family the only one found in Ontario is the common black bear, and the white polar bear, along the coasts of Hudson's Bay. And while the black bear roams all over, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, neither the brown bear or grizzly ever appears east of the prairie region of the west. And while there is abundant evidence that our woods were liberally stocked with both moose and elk at no very remote period in our history, I am not aware of any trace of the caribou ever having been found east of the Algoma District. Then, too, while the moose have returned in such vast ordes to their former haunts, the elk has failed to put in an appearance. It is a question if there are any at all in the province at present. They seem destined to be the next animals to follow the fate of the buffalo. This peculiarity of the four-footed animals belongs als o to some birds. The common partridge

is found all over the Dominion, but the prairie chicken has never appeared in eastern Ontario. They are fully as abundant as the partridge, all through the southern parts of the next district between the Manitoba boundary and the Nipigon river, but east of that stream they gradually become more scarce; at White River, they disappear altogether.

There is an unwritten law amongst hunters and trappers, by which, although no one has any legal right to a given district, each one has his own hunting grounds, which are never trespassed upon by any other one. In travelling through our northern and western wilds, and observing the signs of the different varieties of deer and other animals, one is sometimes tempted to think that wild animals have also a law amongst themselves, by which one variety will be barred from trespassing upon the preserves of another.

Take a map of the province; start out from the mouth of the White Fish River. Go northerly across Lake Penache, to where the Soo branch of the Canadian Pacific Railway crosses the Vermilion, then go west to "Big Bend," on the Spanish River; follow that stream to the Township of Cray; thence strike north-easterly by a point about twenty miles north of Wahnapitae Lake, then take a more northerly course by the head waters of the Blanche River, to the interprovincial boundary line, and we shall follow very nearly, the southern and eastern boundaries of the caribou country. Along this line there seems to be a belt of country, or feeding-ground, common to all, beyond which, although a single individual or family may be occasionally met with, the caribou never seems to penetrate.

A striking illustration of this was observed by me, a few years ago, in the township of Totten. It was in the month of November; the snow was literally all tracked over by moose, caribou and deer, in about

equal numbers. I saw a herd of eight caribou. They stood gazing at me as if questioning my right to intrude into their haunts, and showed no disposition to leave until I was within ten rods of them, then I stood still, looked long enough to satisfy my curiosity, and then clapped my hands and shouted.

It is not necessary to see the animals themselves, in order to determine their presence. The print of the hoof is sufficient to the backwoodsman. The beautifully moulded and dainty little foot of the red deer is familiar to everybody. That of the moose is its exact counterpart in shape, but is very much larger, while the foot of the caribou, both in size and shape, is like that of the domestic cow, with the addition that, in the track, the print of the deer claw is always seen also.

Another peculiarity of the foot is this, that while neither moose nor red deer can make any headway on clear, smooth ice, the outer edge of the hoof of the caribou is so sharp that it can trot as easily on ice as can a sharpshod horse, and will strike out boldly and freely across the most slippery field, small shivers of ice flying off with every stroke of the hoof.

Another feature of the caribou is, that while the females of the moose and deer have no antlers, with the caribou they are common to both sexes, while the moulies, or those having no antlers, are of common occurrence. The skin of the caribou makes finer leather than that of any member of the deer family, and snowshoes made of that material are excelled by none, except, perhaps, those made from the skin of the beaver, which is a rather costly material for common use.

Some writers assert that the construction of railroads will have a tendency to banish moose more quickly than almost anything else. This is an entirely erroneous idea. During last winter I saw several moose yards so close to the line of the C. P. R. that the whistle of the locomotive and noise of