One day, I met a large gentleman on four legs with dark brown fur and a magnificent pair of antlers. I had just started to photograph him when I was surprised by his saying, “How do you do?” “I am very well,” I answered, “But who are you?” “I, as you can tell, am a moose, one of the tribe which is largest of all the deer family.” “Thank you, so I thought – but would you please tell me a bit about yourself?”
“With pleasure,” The moose answered, “I and my very extended family live in Canada and the northern United States, most notably Alaska as far as the U.S. is concerned. We are quite high in the wilderness pecking orders in most areas, except for perhaps the grizzlies and wolves, and even those will rarely attack us in our full strength. Cowards that they are, they have found that they have better success with the young, the old, and the weak, and these they separate from the rest of their herds before attempting anything.
“Unfortunately, you humans have an unpleasant habit of shooting my kind, and have learned to imitate the call of the moose quite well, so that sometimes when we go a-courting and hear sounds as of other bull moose looking for the same lady, and go along to find the intruder, there is no moose, but only one of your people with one of those frightful stick-things you shoot with, and a sort of horn made of birchbark. Many of our greatest moose have been lured to their deaths this way, but the advantage is not all on one side. Due to our large size, weight and strength, we can often turn the hunt around, and chase your little human hunters. I myself [he swelled with pride as he said this] have treed several, and hung around helpfully offering to help them out of their perches. For some odd reason, however, they never took me up on my offer.”
There was a wicked glint in the moose's rather beady eye as he said this, and I backed away a little. “Go on,” I said, “What sort of things do you like to do? Do you swim? What do you eat?” “Well,” the moose said, “I do swim, but when I am in water I generally prefer to root around for the delicious roots that grow about on the bottom of lakes. Do you really say you have never tried them? Well, I highly recommend lake-bottom roots to you. I hold my breath quite well, and so can remain underwater, with only the tips of my antlers poking out, for good periods of time. Lakes and good sized rivers are also very useful as fly and gnat deterrents in summer. In addition to roots both by land and lake, I eat a variety of green stuffs, and find the bark from trees palatable.
“Really, though, I ought to tell you more about the fights we moose can have over our ladies. They are tremendous! We clash together, using both feet and antlers, and they really are grand both to watch and participate in. Our fights are not always bloodless, and sometimes one moose gives the other fatal injuries, or their antlers can become locked together, and, as neither moose can eat, they die of starvation. Speaking of 'watch', though, what time is it? Oh my, really? I must be going!”
As my large friend (would 'friend' be the right term?) crashed off through the trees, trumpeting something or other about apologies of being late to the lady I assumed he was going to see, I watched him, dumbfounded. I had just held a conversation with a moose, one of the largest land mammals in North America – or had I? You don't believe me either, do you?
We had some end-of-term exams recently, and one of my tasks was to “Tell all you know about moose”. I got rather carried away.