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same time, we have seen a reasonable number of bull moose killed by sportsmen without disturbing in the least the general equanimity of the general moose population! And at this moment, the moose population of New Brunswick is almost incredible. Every moose hunter who goes there sees from 20 to 40 moose, and two of my friends last year saw, "in round numbers, about 100!" Up to date the size of adult antlers seem to be maintaining a high standard.

In summer, the photographing of moose in the rivers, lakes and ponds of Maine and New Brunswick amounts to an industry. I am uneasy about the constant picking off of the largest and best breeding bulls of the Mirimachi country, lest it finally reduce the size and antlers of the moose of that region; but only the future can tell us just how that prospect stands to-day.

In Alaska, our ever thoughtful and forehanded Biological Survey of the Department of Agriculture has by legal proclamation at one stroke converted the whole of the Kenai Peninsula into a magnificent moose preserve. This will save Alces gigas, the giant moose of Alaska, from extermination; and New Brunswick and the Minnesota preserve will save Alces americanus. But in the northwest, we can positively depend upon it that eventually, wherever the moose may legally be hunted and killed by any Tom, Dick or Harry who can afford a twenty-dollar rifle and a license, the moose surely will disappear.

The moose laws of Alaska are strict—toward sportsmen, only! The miners, "prospectors" and Indians may kill as many as they please, "for food purposes." This opens the door to a great amount of unfair slaughter. Any coffee-cooler can put a pan and pick into his hunting outfit, go out after moose, and call himself a "prospector."

I grant that the real prospector, who is looking for ores and minerals with an intelligent eye, and knows what he is doing, should have special privileges on game, to keep him from starving. The settled miner, however, is in a different class. No miner should ask the privilege of living on wild game, any more than should the farmer, the steamboat man, the railway laborer, or the soldier in an army post. The Indian should have no game advantages whatever over a white man. He does not own the game of a region, any more than he owns its minerals or its water-power. He should obey the general game laws, just the same as white men. In Africa, as far as possible, the white population wisely prohibits the natives from owning or using firearms, and a good idea it is, too. I am glad there is one continent on which the "I'm-just-as-good-as-you-are" nightmare does not curse the whole land.

The Musk-Ox. —Now that the north pole has been safely discovered, and the south pole has become the storm-center of polar exploration, the harried musk-ox herds of the farthest north are having a rest. I think that most American sportsmen have learned that as a sporting proposition there is about as much fun and glory in harrying a musk-ox herd with dogs, and picking off the members of it at "parade rest," as there is in shooting range cattle in a round-up. The habits of the animal positively