Mt. Moosilauke (1803) - The Last Moose
". . . Early in the spring of 1803 the last moose ever known in this section was killed. Joseph Patch's supply of moose beef had run short, and he tried to get his grown sons, Joseph and Daniel, to go with him after more; but as they refused, he took his son Jacob, then about seventeen years old, who wanted to go. At the East-parte Stephen Flanders joined them, and the three on snow shoes, for the snow was four feet deep, proceeded through the forest, up the Asquamchumauke on the north bank.
Joseph Patch place, Warren, N.H., 1768
They crossed the Big brook near where the bridle-path up Moosehillock crosses it now, and half a mile beyond on the plain through which rushes Gorge brook, they found where moose had browsed. Following the trail they crossed the latter stream, now buried in snow, and Patch sent his son and Captain Flanders around the spur of the mountain (sometimes called Black hill) after more browse, and following on they all came together on the crest where they found "floats."
It was now late in the afternoon, and the little party stopped to consult. They were far in the woods, and young Jacob thought it was a lonesome place to spend the night. . . . From the appearance of the "floats," Joseph Patch knew that they were in the immediate vicinity of the moose, and for fear of frightening them they did not dare build a camp nor light a fire. So they made a large bed of evergreen boughs, thick and warm, and when night came on, they wrapped their blankets about them and with their dogs lay down to sleep. Nice bed, beautiful place, and splendid night. . . . Jacob Patch said in his old age that he never enjoyed a night's rest better in his whole life than that one in the winter snow, and that he ate his breakfast from their almost frozen provisions with as keen a relish as he ever knew.
At the earliest dawn they started on the trail, keeping their dogs quiet behind them, and traveling two miles they found the moose in a large yard beside a little mountain stream. There were three of them, a bull, a cow and a calf. Patch shot the calf, Flanders fired at the bull and missed, when Patch fired again and killed him. The cow started off at a fast trot down Baker river. The dogs followed, a bull dog and a hound, yelping, yelling, and baying, till the woods rang with echoes, and the men running after as fast as they could. A mile away, and the old moose turned to fight the dogs and Patch coming up first, shot her.
As they were dressing them, three other men, who by a singular coincidence were hunting in the valley, came up and claimed the moose. Patch was a little covetous, and as his neighborly hunters from over the mountain were exceedingly saucy, he would not give them a bit of the meat. But our hunter and Captain F. had to stay and watch the captured game while young Jacob went for sleds and help with which they brought home the product of their morning work. Thus perished the last of that race of animals in our mountain valley, so many of which at one time lived around Moosehillock mountain. . . ."
From "The History of Warren, A Mountain Hamlet Located Among the White Hills of New Hampshire" by William Little, 1870.
