Bill, here's the story of the moose hunt as saved in my computer.....
"I've had a lot of exciting hunts with my flinters but one or two stand out.
In 1979 I had custom gun maker Jud Brennan make a .62 Jaeger for me to go on a moose hunt in northern Ontario. The man I was going with on this hunt had hunted moose in the area for 17 years and had taken 9 bulls with his modern cartridge rifle.
He didn't realize that I wasn't taking a modern gun and had a fit when I insisted on taking ONLY my flintlock. We drove through Ontario to the farthest point we could go by road then unloaded our two canoes and our gear. A 21' square stern Grumman and a 17' square stern. The larger canoe had a 10horse and the other a 7 1/2. We carried as much gas as we could because we were going north downstream towards James Bay, 40 miles as the crow flys. Going in we could drift/ float but coming back we would need the motors.
An all day float brought us to our hunting area and we set up camp in the dark. We were far enough north that the nights were very long and the days short. We were up hours before daylight, had a good breakfast and packed some food in our packs anticipating an all day hunt.
My partner told me to follow the river and not to go too far into the bush. He said it was easy to get turned around in there. I worked my way slowly down the shoreline as it started to get light. After about a mile I came on a small stream that dumped into the river. I decided to follow along the stream knowing I could always find my way back if I stayed close to it. After a few hundred yards I started seeing moose sign, rubs and browsing. Soon I saw a clearing ahead and going very slow and quiet I worked my way to the edge. It appeared to be a large beaver flooding that had dried up. As I stood there looking across the 200 yd clearing I felt the wind shift and blow towards the heavy brush along the end of the clearing. Suddenly there was a loud crashing sound coming from the thick brush and then it sounded like someone running along a picket fence with a baseball bat...clickety clickety clack! I knew I had jumped a moose but I couldn't see a thing through the brush. The gun was at my shoulder, hammer back when suddenly the moose broke out into the open in front of me. For an instant he was broadside and then he turned and was going straight away at about 40 to 50 yards. My sights were centered on his rear end when the hammer fell....KaBOOM and the 200 grains of 2FF sent the 613 round ball on it's way.
The smoke hung in front of me... I had to kneel to the ground to see under it. To my suprise the moose was standing about 100 yd's away looking back at me. He coughed a few times and I remember thinking maybe I slipped my ball under the ribs and got a lung. I frantically poured in the premeasured powder and shakinly tried to center the ball in the loading block over the bore. The load was down and I primed the pan as the big bull walked toward the edge of the clearing....KaBOOM....more smoke, the bull was gone!
As I followed up I started seeing a lot of blood on the grass. It was an easy blood trail that took me into the woods on what looked like a well used runway. I was going slow, looking ahead when this bush about 35yd's ahead moved. The Bull was down and turned his head to look at his back trail. I froze until he looked back the other way then the .62 spoke one last time as I put a ball in the back of his head.
My partner had heard all the shooting and he showed up when I was trying to figger out how to move this dead horse so I could gut him. My pard had a small block and tackle in his pack and soon I was up to my armpits in moose. We found that the first ball had hit the inside of the left ham, traveled through the stomach, liver, lungs and came to rest under the hide just right of center in the brisket. The second ball hit the meaty part of the neck and did no damage.
The next several days were spent butchering and packing the meat and horns out to the river. We loaded the canoes and started back up stream. What took one day going downstrean took three days and two nights going back upstream......But... it was worth every agonizing minute of it."