Last Sunday evening Snuffy and I were walking up our road to the brook, when a pickup truck pulling a flatbed trailer stopped beside me. The driver, Ron Fournier, who lives just up the hill from us, told me to look in the trailer behind his truck. In there I saw the biggest moose head I’d ever seen; just the head almost filled the trailer! I told Ron I thought that was the biggest moose I’d ever seen. You didn’t shoot him today did you? He said, “Yup. Dee and I shot him today over in New Hampshire! We both had moose permits. The bull weighed 840 pounds, and his rack measured 62 inches tip to tip! We’re having him cut up in New Hampshire. Now we’ve got to find a big enough wall to hang him on!” I guess New Hampshire allows hunting on Sundays.
One day last week Mona and I were talking to friends, when one of them told us another fellow, whose name I forget, was hunting up near the Canadian border. He shot a moose, which strayed over the border into Canada before it died. The fellow then was unable to get permission to cross the border to retrieve his moose. I’m not sure if the story is true, but it sounds logical to me.
Another Rupert hunting story: One day when Rupert was walking to his job in the woods up back, he shot a deer with the rifle he almost always carried with him into the woods. Instead of dying right away, the deer ran down hill until it came out of the woods behind neighbor Myron Morrill’s barn. The deer died in the clearing within plain sight of the windows in the back of the barn.
Rupert could see the deer from the edge of the woods, but he could also hear Myron tending his horses in the barn. Now, Myron had the habit of talking to the horses, and he often used a high pitched voice, saying, “Hee yah!” when he wanted a horse to move a foot, or something. This day Rupert started out from behind a fir tree to retrieve his deer, when suddenly Myron said, “Hee yah!” Rupert ducked back into the woods, thinking Myron had seen him. After hesitating for a few minutes, he again decided to try and get his deer. Again came “Hee yah!” Again Rupert retreated. He finally decided that Myron was indeed talking to the horses, and he grabbed his deer and quickly snuck it back into the woods. I don’t think Myron ever found out about Rupert and the deer.