As the nights grow colder and the frost becomes a part of our morning greetings, I can’t help but think back to some of my hunting adventures with some of my friends and relatives. They all have their version of hew the tenderloin got to their tables, and as most of my stories go, there is a bit of a funny twist to the tale.
Now there’s nothing like sitting in a boat on a calm lake or hiding in or on a brush pile in the middle of nowhere listening to folks share their moose stories. Yes, and at the same time trying to keep calm while collecting frost on our little brown bottoms.
This time of year, most of the folks I know want to try to coax Mr. or Mrs. Moose out of the bush by using a variety of different calls. However, some of these moose calls didn’t exactly have the moose tripping over each other coming out the clearing. On the contrary, the moose are still out there. But, not to be discouraged, there was a response to the calls from other members of the animal kingdom.
A perfect example of the “non-moose-call moose call” was when I was sitting in an old weather-beaten canoe in the middle of a slow-moving stream with my cousin Dale. He did quite well in preparing himself for the hunt and was armed to the hilt with firepower but maybe needed a little practice in the area of calling.
Dale started out with a few grunts on the cold, calm sunny morning and was immediately rewarded with some rustling in the bush some distance away. He got pretty excited and I didn’t blame him. It was one of the first times he’d been out on an actual moose hunt and at the time he hadn’t shot a moose before.
It wasn’t long before he had his moose gun on his lap and ready to go. All we had to do was wait for whatever was coming out of the bush to show itself. Well, we didn’t have to wait long because out of the high weeds a short distance from the front of the canoe swam two full-grown otter.
I couldn’t help but almost tip the canoe over jiggling around laughing. I guess you can say I wasn’t exactly a confidence-builder that day, but I was enjoying the event. However, I did ask Dale to teach me that call so I can use it during trapping season.
After I was calm enough to paddle, I suggested we head on down the creek for a while and try different locations. Dale agreed and sat quietly as we paddled, letting the colour come back to his face.
We came to a stop sometime later near a beaver dam and this time we decided to sit on the shoreline and stretch our legs while we were waiting for Mr. Moose. Dale used one of his bull calls – at least that’s the way I translated – and we settled in to wait. However, once again there came an almost immediate response and, yes, it was again close-by.
This time a cute little snow hare decided to answer the call. I couldn’t hold back. I was in stitches rolling in the mud, laughing at Dale’s bull call. I really didn’t mean to laugh at my cousin the way I did, but if you were there and saw the look on his face you would have been in the mud rolling around right there beside me.
Dale wasn’t the only person I’ve gone moose hunting with that used the old “non-moose-call moose call.” My buddy Barry for instance did some calling just the other day and I just happened to be along to keep him company. The only response he received was from an old Great Horned Owl sitting in a tree about a hundred yards from his vehicle. I didn’t rub it in too much but he sure had the owl excited there for awhile.
Sometimes all it takes is being in the right place at the right time and using the right call. Most importantly, Mr. Big has to be in the area you are calling or you can call until you’re blue in the face and nothing will come, except maybe some other furry little critter.
To some of the people I go moose hunting with, moose calling can be a frustrating and humbling experience, especially if you have me along on the trip. Actually, I’m low-key compared to some of my older uncles. They will not only laugh at you all the way out of the bush, but they will continue to do so until you drop a moose steak on a plate in front of them. I speak from experience as I too have had my share of “non-moose-call moose calls.”
However, there’s the older folks like my grandfather who have their moose calling down to a fine art. He made a few grunts here, a few grunts there and then sat down and made a pot of tea. He’d sip down a cup, stand and straighten out his shorts, and calmly walk down the trail. We’d hear only one shot and some crashing around in the bush. He’d be back just as quickly to get us down the trail and cut up Mr. Moose. To tell you the truth folks, we still don’t know how he used to do it but he would perform the same trick year after year.
I’m still in the league with other “non-moose-call moose callers.” The good news is I’m getting better at it and I do get my moose. But it also gives me some good stories to share with you folks. My hope this year is that I get a chance to share my 1999 version of the story with all of you at a later date. Until next time, take care and good luck with your moose calling.
