Fifty Years a Hunter and Trapper Part 10

Pard, whom I call Co, and I went camping many years ago on a branch of the Susquehanna River in Lycoming County, Pennsylvania. At that time all that part of the country was an unbroken wilderness and we were several miles from the nearest town. Now Co was a good hunter but despised trapping, saying it was no gentleman's sport, yet he was always ready to do his share in camp life.

One evening in December Co did not turn up at dark, the usual hour for his return, still I did not worry much until eight o'clock, but from that time until about nine I kept going to the door and giving an occasional "Kho-Hoop," just to let him know the direction of the camp if he was within ear shot. As Co did not return, about nine o'clock I shouldered my rifle and started out in the direction that he had gone, shooting off my gun, and occasionally letting out a shout that echoed from hill to hill, but no answer came back in reply. The weather was growing extremely cold and I began to feel very much worried about Co for although I knew he was a good woodsman, I imagined all sorts of calamities had befallen him. At every high point I would fire my gun but never an answer could I hear. I kept this up till midnight, and then retraced my steps to camp intending to take an early start in the morning, when I could see to track my wandering partner.

Judge of my delight, when about half a mile from camp the sharp report of a rifle rang out on the clear night air, and I knew Pard had returned alive. I hastened to the shanty where I found Co all right but as mad as a hornet. As he raved around he exclaimed: "No one but a--fool would catch anything in a--steel trap. If you must trap things, get them in something that will stay put." When Co cooled off a little, I said: "Come old man, tell us what has happened." "What has happened," said he, "enough has happened, I should think. I went where you set that tarnal old bear trap and some critter has got into it and broken the chain and carried it off, and he makes a track bigger than an elephant. He's making for the big windfall and I followed him more than forty miles, and he was farther ahead of me than when I started, and I hope he will get into the old windfall and stay there till doomsday." Well, Pard felt better when he had eaten the hot supper I had left for him and we turned in for a few hours' sleep.

The next day we went to town and got a number of men and dogs and the following morning started out early on the track of old bruin. We soon struck the trail and located the beast in a big ravine.

Stationing the men around where the bear was likely to break cover, I went in with the dogs to drive him out.

Now there was one young chap among the crowd called Dan, who proved to be of rather a timid nature. The battle which soon followed proved very short owing to the number of guns opened on the bear the moment he broke cover and he was soon dispatched and nearly as soon skinned and cut up. But when I looked for Dan he was nowhere to be found. A searching party was organized and after beating the bush for some time, poor, frightened Dan was finally located in the top of a small beech tree and came tumbling down inquiring if the bear was "sure dead."

I have often thought I would like to relate some of my experiences in the woods while deer hunting. Many a time while following a herd of deer or a wounded one over ridge after ridge, has the sun set and the stars come out and I found myself many miles from my cabin or any habitation. Then I would find a large fallen tree, that laid close to the ground, gather a pile of dry limbs and bark, sc.r.a.pe away the snow from the log, often the snow being a foot deep, build a fire where I sc.r.a.ped the snow away. When the ground became thoroughly warm, I would rake the coals and brands down against the log, put on more wood, and then I would place hemlock boughs on the ground, where I had previously had the fire. Soon they would begin to steam and after frizzling some venison (if I chanced to have it) before the fire I would take off my coat, lie down on my stomach, pull the coat over my head and shoulders and sleep for hours before waking. Sometimes I would have the skin of a bear to put over me, and for doing these things my friends would scold me, but the reader will know, if he has the blood of a hunter in him, that I enjoyed it.

But this is not what I started to write about, it was of a day's hunt after a bear on the 16th day of December, 1903. On the day previous, the afternoon sun sinking to rest in the west, casts its rays for a moment upon a solitary hunter's cabin in the hills of old Potter, then the bright glows faded away, the sun disappeared behind the mountains and it was a soft beautiful twilight, while I stood just outside the cabin door meditating. Mart (that is an old liner who had come to my cabin to have a few days' hunt) came out of the cabin and I said, "old man, what are you thinking about?" The reply was, "just watching the sun set." "Don't you think the c.o.o.n will be out tonight if it holds warm?" "I don't know what the c.o.o.n will do, but I know we went around a bear over in that jam in Dead Man's Hollow. (This hollow is so called because a fisherman a few years ago, found the body of a man who had gotten lost and died in the snow the winter before).

Well what do you think you will do about it? I think we had better turn in early so as to get an early start in the morning and see if we can find where the bear is sleeping. "Agreed," said Mart, and we were soon in bed, but it was a long time before I closed my eyes in sleep for I was familiar with the woods in the neighborhood where the bear was supposed to be and I mapped out and laid every plan that was to be carried out the next day before I went to sleep.

At four o'clock in the morning we were astir and soon breakfast was ready and eaten, lunch put up and at the break of day we were on our way to where bruin was supposed to be, a distance of about five miles, which is no small job for an old cripple like myself. After about three hours we were on the ground where we were in hopes of finding bruin. Mart was to circle several points outside of where we thought the bear was snoozing; this was done to make sure that the bear was in there. I took a position where the bear was most likely to come out if he was there and should be started by Mart. My position was in an open piece of timber on the point of a hill and near a very thick jam of trees that had been broken down two years before by a heavy ice storm and near the bear track where he had gone in several days before. Mart was to make another circle somewhat smaller than the one he had previously made for we now knew that the bear was in the jam of timber.

After completing the second circle Mart was to drop below the jam where we were quite sure bruin was napping and work his way through the fallen timber. This worked all right, for soon I heard Mart cry out: "Look out, he is coming." Soon I heard the cras.h.i.+ng of the brush and could tell that bruin was coming directly toward me, and in another minute he broke into the open timber. My rifle was already pointed in that direction and bruin had scarcely made two jumps in the open timber when I fired. The bear made a loud noise like that of a hog and I knew that he was. .h.i.t hard and could already see a crimson streak in the snow. But bruin steadily held his course, in a few yards further he made an attempt to jump a large fallen tree and I fired again. This shot was more fatal than the first, and he fell to the ground and could not rise. I hurried up and fired a shot through his head which soon quieted him. Mart was soon on the scene and after a little rejoicing we soon had his hide off, and cutting the fore parts off and hanging them in a tree to be brought out the next day.

Mart took the saddles and I the skin and started for camp, which we reached shortly before dark, and as we had prepared things for supper before leaving in the morning, supper was soon ready which consisted of buckwheat cakes, wild honey, baked potatoes, bacon, bear steak and tea. Dear readers, do not tell Mart, but I think that he took a hot toddy after talking the hunt over and over. Again, we laid down to rest our weary selves and dream of the hunt which may never come.

CHAPTER XI

Pacific Coast Trip.

As I am always looking for taller timber to plant my traps in and as the drift of the trapper seems to be to the west, the Rockies and the Pacific Coast, and as I have had some experience in the Rockies, and along the Pacific Coast region, I will speak of some of the advantages and disadvantages that the trapper will meet with in that section.

The trapper will find the fur bearers more plentiful and many more kinds of animals to take, than is found in the East, which is a great advantage to the trapper. The hunter will find deer quite plentiful in many places in the Rocky Mountains and on the Pacific Coast. In 1904 I was in Humboldt and Trinity Counties, California and I found deer so plentiful and tame that it was no sport to shoot them. While the law limited the hunter to two deer in a season, the people in the mountains made their own laws, as to the number of deer that they should kill. Black and brown bear are plentiful all through the Rocky Mountains and in the Coast ranges. You see much written of the grizzly bear in this region, but it is doubtful if a hunter or trapper would see one or even the track of one during a whole season's trapping. The trapper will find marten, fisher and lynx in many places in the Rockies and in the Coast Range but nothing to what there was a few years ago.

Now one who is contemplating trapping in the Rockies or on the Pacific Coast, must bear in mind that the conditions that a trapper meets with in this region are far different from what they are in the East. The trapper who is planning a trip in that section before starting out should examine his feet close to see that there are no tender spots on them. The man who makes a success of trapping in this region must be a man who can stand grief and hards.h.i.+ps a plenty, for he will run up against it often. He will find the mountain streams hard to get along; he will have but little use for a boat as the streams are rapid and full of boulders. In most cases the trapper will be compelled to take his outfit into the mountains by pack horses, and in many cases it will be necessary for the trapper to be the horse.

The trapper to succeed in a financial way must take in a supply of provisions to last at least until the first of June, for it is during April, May and even June that he must do his bear trapping; for the bear holes up or goes into hibernation down in the lower land and does not show up much in the mountains until spring.

The trapper must provide himself with a good number of traps of different sizes from the No. 1 for marten to the No. 5 for bear; and that means a whole lot of packing and hard work. He must have at least one pair of snow shoes, and should have an extra pair in case of a mishap, in the way of breakage. One good gun is all that is likely to be needed, and don't load yourself down with a lot of revolvers, hunting knives, etc. A good strong pocket knife is all that I have found necessary, though one should have more than one knife no matter what kind he may use.

Here I will say a word as to a gun especially for the trap line. The manufacturers of guns have as yet failed to make it. The Marble Game-Getter comes the nearest to it of any now made, but that is not just to my liking. We would do away with one of the barrels, and have a single barrel, 44 caliber straight cut, with cartridges for both ball and shot with 15 inch barrel, skeleton stock, similar to the Stevens Pocket shot gun. Mind, I am speaking of an arm on purpose for the trap line, and this kind of a gun would do the work and be light to carry.

Now the expense for an outfit to go into the mountains for a season's campaign is necessarily a considerable item. It is quite necessary that the trapper has a number of camps on his line at advantageous points, for the trapper cannot cover sufficient territory from one camp to make it pay; besides, a number of camps on the line will relieve the trapper of much hards.h.i.+p. I mention this matter thinking it might be of some interest to some one whose feet are itching to get into a big game country, and are thinking of only the game, and not of the hards.h.i.+ps they are sure to meet with. Another thing that is well for the trapper who is looking for a happy hunting and trapping ground to remember is, that he will no longer find game as plentiful as it once was, in any place that is in any way easily accessible. If the trapper will take into consideration the expense and hards.h.i.+p that one must put up with in going on one of these outings, it might be that he can find quite as much pleasure and profit in looking up a trapping ground nearer home.

I will mention one or two places where one can find some sport where it will not require the hards.h.i.+p nor expense, and at the same time will find deer and some other game quite plentiful, with a fair sprinkling of the fur bearers.

In Humboldt County, in California, on Redwood River, deer and bear can be found quite plentiful, and there are some marten, fisher and a few lynx, c.o.o.n, mink, skunk and fox. The fox are mostly grey and you may by chance meet occasionally with a mountain lion. To reach this section the best way is from San Francis...o...b.. boat to Eureka, then by rail and wagon.

Another section where game and fur bearers are fairly plentiful and of easy access, is in the vicinity of Thompson's Falls, in Northern Montana.

But if only a good outing is wanted, that can be had in Pecos Valley, New Mexico. You will not find much to trap other than muskrats and c.o.o.n on the river and lakes, but they are quite plentiful, especially the latter. You will find coyotes and some grey wolves, and some antelope, which are protected. Duck shooting is good, the climate is mild, only freezing ice the thickness of window gla.s.s in the coldest weather, which is all thawed out and gone by ten o'clock. This section is easily reached by rail.

In July, 1902, I was spending a few days at Spokane, Wash. Nearly every day I would take an old cane fish pole and go to the river just above the falls and fish for ba.s.s. I would s.h.i.+ft my post from one point along the bank of the river to another and sometimes I would go out on the boom timbers and fish among the logs. Some days I would get a ba.s.s or two, but oftener I got nothing further than the pleasure of drowning a few minnows.

Nearly every morning I noticed a man would come down along the bank of the river and go in the direction of the mill. Sometimes he would stop and watch me for a few minutes, and then pa.s.s on without saying anything. But one morning he came along when I happened to be sitting close to his path. I looked up and gave the usual morning nod. The gentleman, for such he proved to be, inquired what luck I was having.

I replied that I guessed it must be fisherman's luck, for I got but few fish. He replied that he thought that there were very few ba.s.s in the dam, as there was so much fis.h.i.+ng done there.

I was quite sure that he was right from the number of fish I caught, and I could see a number of others scattered about the pond, and some on the logs, some on the boom timbers and some in boats. The next morning I was back at my old post, and this man came along as usual.

He stopped, laughed and said that I seemed to have plenty of faith. I replied that the occasion demanded great faith. He inquired if I lived in the city. I told him that I lived in Pennsylvania and was only out in that country to see the sights and get a few fish and a little venison and later might try to get a little fur.

He informed me that his name was Nettel (Charles Nettel) that he was a lumber inspector and that he was going to have a vacation the next week. He intended going to the North Fork of the Clearwater on Elk Creek, where he had a camp, and that if I wished to fill up on trout and venison, I had better join him, as he had no one selected to accompany him yet. I said, "Thank you, I would be pleased to do so,"

as quick as I could, for fear he would change his mind. I now dropped my ba.s.s fis.h.i.+ng and would drop into the mill where Mr. Nettel was at work and catch a few minutes chat with my new-found friend, as an opportunity would occur, until the time came to go to Mr. Nettel's camp. As I had a complete outfit, including blankets, tin plates, cups, knives, and forks, a takedown or folding stove with the necessary cooking utensils, which I had not yet unpacked, we concluded to take the whole kit along so that if anything had happened at Mr. Nettel's camp we would have a tent as well as the other camp outfit, but we found Mr. Nettel's shack all right. We took a train to near a place called Orofino on the Clearwater River in Idaho where we repacked our outfit, putting it into sacks.

We engaged a man with two pack horses to take our plunder to camp which we found to be all right, and I wish to say that this was the farthest up the gulch in the Rockies that I had been at that time.

I found my friend all right on the trout question, for trout were so plenty it was no sport to catch them. The next morning after we were in camp we climbed to what Mr. Nettel called the bench, but I thought it was the moon. We had hardly got to the level, or bench, when we say plenty of elk tracks so we followed in the direction in which the fresh trails seemed to lead.

We had not gone far when I noticed something moving in the underbrush, which might have been taken for a rocking chair for all that I could tell. We stood still a few moments when three elk came out in sight. We watched them feed for a few minutes, then made a noise like a deer blowing, and the elk stopped feeding, stood and listened and looked about for danger; Mr. Nettel again snorted and the elk trotted off.

We now separated a little and began walking across the bench. We had not gone far when I saw two buck deer feeding and shot one of them.

Mr. Nettel soon came to me and we took the entrails out of the deer and drew the carca.s.s down to camp where we sure had venison as well as trout.

The man who packed our outfit up the gulch for us had a little whiffet dog with him, and in some manner he neglected to take the dog back with him. We were a little worried at first because the man had left the dog with us, but later I at least was pleased that the dog was with us.

We had dressed the deer and hung the meat up on trees near the shack.

The second night after we had the deer hanging up, along in the night the dog kept growling so that after a time, as the moon was s.h.i.+ning, I thought I would get up and see what was worrying the pup. When I opened the shack door the pup lit out like shot from a shovel, and I could see the outline of some animal taking up a tree. I could hear the bark from the tree falling to the ground like hail.

Mr. Nettel was still sound asleep, so I said nothing but took my gun and stepped outside the shack. I could see the outlines of something standing on a limb of the tree. I took the best aim I could owing to the dim light and fired. The tree stood on the side of the gulch, which was very steep, and when the gun cracked the object in the tree apparently flew right up the side of the gulch from the tree.

The pup gave chase and within fifty yards I could again hear the bark from the tree and soon again I could see the outline of the animal on the tree. I was working along out towards the pup, when Mr. Nettel, close to my side said, "It is a lion; be careful and take good aim this time and kill him, if you can." I got up to the tree where I could see the cat fairly fell, and with all the care possible, I fired. The cat lit out from the tree, but this time he went down the hill instead of up, and when he struck the ground it was broadside instead of on all fours. As good luck would have it, I had hit him square through the shoulders.

The cat was a little over seven feet long, and Mr. Nettel said that it was not a large lion, but as it was the first one that I had seen then I thought it was longer than a twelve-foot rail. We pulled the cat up to the shack and turned in again. It was only eleven o'clock and Mr. Nettel was soon sound asleep, but I had too much cat excitement for me to do any more sleeping that night.

In the morning we skinned the cat, gathered dry leaves and stuffed the skin and had a stuffed cat in camp. Later, we sold the skin to a party for three dollars. We stayed in camp two weeks, feasting on venison, trout, grouse, and other game. Some of the time we spent prospecting for gold, but we failed to strike it rich.

At the end of the two weeks allotted Mr. Nettel, he was obliged to return to his work, and I can say that I never spent two weeks' time with more pleasure than I did with the friend I found while fis.h.i.+ng for ba.s.s.

CHAPTER XII.

Some Michigan Trips.

Owing to the recent fires (1905) in the northern portion of Michigan, which have undoubtedly killed many of the smaller fur bearing animals in that section, has called to mind experiences I had trapping and hunting in both the Lower and Upper Peninsulas of that state. In the fall of 1868 on the first of October, a party of four of us took a boat at Buffalo, New York, and went to Alpena on Thunder Bay, Michigan, where we purchased provisions for a winter's campaign hunting and trapping.

We engaged a team to take our outfit up the Thunder Bay River, a distance of about twenty miles, where the road ended. The road was an old lumber road and rather rough over those long stretches of corduroy. We camped at the end of the lumber road the first night and the team returned home the next morning. We took our knapsacks with some blankets and grub and went up the river to find a camping ground to suit our notion.

Mr. Jones and myself took the one axe that we carried with us and began clearing a site to build the camp on. Mr. Goodsil and Mr.