Fifty Years a Hunter and Trapper Part 15

We went up along a hollow that led to the top of a high ridge where we had a bear trap setting and where I thought was the most likely place to catch a bear, but found the trap undisturbed.

We next crossed a narrow ridge where we had another trap. The trap was set in a spring run and the banks on either side of the run were quite thickly grown up with low brush. Smoky was in advance a few steps so that when he came to the edge of the thick brush that grew on the bank of the run, parted the brush and looked through at the trap, he caught a glimpse of some black object moving in the run. He quickly stepped back and held up his hand, his eyes sparkling with excitement and he whispered to me, "By Moses, we have got him." Smoky being given to much joking, I asked, "What have we got?" for I had not heard any noise of any kind. Smoky said, "A bear, by long horn spoon-handle." I stepped past Smoky and looked through the brush and there was a large black porcupine moving about a little in the trap.

I stepped back and said to Smoky, "Well, shoot him." Smoky said, "No, I will miss him. You shoot him," at the same time handing me the gun.

I now saw that Smoky was in earnest and surely thought we had a bear and I burst out with laughter. Smoky was amazed and said, "You blooming simpleton, what is the matter with you?" The look of anxiety and the manner in which Smoky spoke still caused me to laugh the harder.

When I could cease laughing long enough to tell Smoky what was in the trap, Smoky's change of looks of excitement and anxiety to one of disgust was pitiful. Smoky began to condemn the country and tell how foolish we were to come to such a forsaken place as that was to trap where there was nothing but porcupines.

After resetting the trap we went on to the third trap, which was setting about a mile farther north. It was necessary to cross two narrow ridges in order to reach the trap. Smoky was in a moody state of mind and lagged along behind, hunting partridges, killing two or three.

When we reached the top of the second ridge and the trap was in the hollow beyond, I heard some sort of a noise where the trap was setting, but I was unable to tell what it was. Smoky was behind somewhere on the line, but while I stood listening he came on in great haste. He had heard the same noise and was hurrying up to inquire what it was.

I told him that I was unable to tell just what it was, but was afraid that some dog had got caught in the trap as the sound came from the direction in which the trap was. Smoky said that it was a different noise than he had ever heard a dog make.

I told Smoky that I feared that it was some hound that was in the trap and was making the pitiful sort of a howl and that we must hurry on and get him out of the trap. When we were half way down the side of the hill, the noise ceased, but I could now see that the noise came from some distance farther down the run than where the trap had been set and I knew that no dog could move the trap and clog. We now went a little more quietly. I soon got sight of Bruin rolling and tumbling in a bunch of small birch saplings where the trap clog was fast, good and stout.

Smoky had not got his eye onto the bear yet, when I stopped and pointed in the direction of the bear and said, "Smoky, there is the gentleman that you have been so anxious to see." Smoky had not yet got his eye onto the bear and he said, "That's no darned dog that makes that noise. What is it? I don't see anything." "No, Smoky, it is no dog; neither is it a porky; it is a bear this time all right."

I pointed at the clump of yellow birches and said, "Don't you see him down in the gulch there?" When Smoky got his eye on the bear, you should have seen them sparkle. This was the first bear that Smoky had ever seen outside of captivity. When I told Smoky that we would go up close to the bear and he (Smoky) should shoot it, he again reached the gun to me and again insisted that I should shoot it, saying that he would surely miss it, the same as he declared in the case of the porcupine. I told Smoky that he had plenty of cartridges and that it would be some time before it would be too dark to see to shoot and that he must shoot the bear. It took a great deal of urging to get Smoky to shoot, he declaring all the time that he knew he would miss it.

I said, "Smoky, you must not shoot at the bear but at the base of the bear's ear," which he finally did and Bruin was out of his trouble almost before the smoke from the rifle had cleared away.

The bear was a large one, measuring seven feet two inches from end to end. We were unable to get it out of the woods whole. Smoky insisted that he would carry it if it was as large as a mountain. He soon gave up that idea and we cut the carca.s.s into pieces and took part to camp and returned the next day after the balance. That night after we got to camp with the bear we had for supper bear steak, partridge, rabbit and bacon with warm biscuits and honey, baked potatoes, b.u.t.ter and coffee, with the necessary tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, which caused Smoky to remark that the country was all right for a living, but thought that society was rather limited.

The day after we had brought in the remainder of the bear, we could see the smoke from the forest fires that were burning away to the southwest, loom up thick and black. It was plainly to be seen that the fire was steadily working in the direction of our camp and was getting in close proximity to where we had a bear trap setting. I was afraid that the fire would burn sufficiently hard to spoil the trap unless it was taken up, so Smoky said that if I would "mix the muligan" (get supper) that he would go and get the trap, which I readily consented to do, telling Smoky to bring the trap down to a small creek and put the trap in the water.

Smoky got back about the time I had supper ready. He came in and put his gun up and washed ready for supper without saying a word. I saw that Smoky was looking down-hearted but thought that he was a little tired and homesick, so I did not say much to him, but after a little I said, "Charley, did you get anything in the trap?" He answered very short, saying, "If I had you would be likely to see something of it, wouldn't you?" so I said no more.

After supper was over and the dishes washed, Smoky took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me with the remark, "What do you know about that?" I unfolded the paper and found that it contained a lock of bear's hair. I said, "Smoky, what is it? Another one of your jokes?" I thought that Smoky had taken the hair from the bear that we had caught two days before. Smoky remarked that he thought that the joke was on him as much as anyone, and then explained that a bear had been in the trap and he got out.

He described the circ.u.mstances, and it was plain to be seen that the guide or stepping stick had been placed a little too close to the trap which had caused the bear to step his foot partly over on to the jaw of the trap and had only been caught by the heel, which was not sufficient to hold him, although Smoky said that the bear had put up quite a fight before it had got out. Smoky said that when he came to where the trap was set and found it gone, he thought he would have the biggest time of his life. A bear all by himself, and when he found that the bear had got away, he felt like throwing himself into the creek along with the trap. I told Charley not to take the matter to heart so, for if he followed the trap line and the trail very long that he would have many a slip just at the time that he thought he had the game bagged.

The next morning the fire was sweeping over the whole country so we hustled around and pulled all of the traps that were not setting in the water or that were not out of reach of the fire. The fire put an end to trapping for everything but a few mink along the stream.

I wish to speak of one of Smoky's dry remarks. Smoky is a strong Republican. A few days after the Presidential election we were going up a small draft to look after three or four traps that I had set for fox. The first trap that we came to was undisturbed. The second one was lying at the side of the brook all in a bunch, chain and all.

Plain to be seen that it had been dropped there by human hands. As soon as I saw the trap I said, "Smoky, some one has dropped that trap there." "There has been some animal in it and it has gotten out, see, there is blood on the jaws." "Very true, Smoky, there has been some animal in the trap, but human hands took it out, for no animal leaves a trap, clog and all, lying free in that way, with the trap chain slack in that way." It only required a glance about to see that there had been a c.o.o.n in the trap and had been fast. Just up on the bank there lay the club that they had used to kill the c.o.o.n with. After giving my opinion of the gentleman that had taken the c.o.o.n, I began to reset the trap again where it was before.

Smoky objected to again setting the trap there only for some one else to get the game again, but I told Smoky that lightning rarely struck twice in the same place so we would set the trap again. We started up the hollow and were soon discussing politics again until we came to where the next trap was setting. Just before we came to the trap, Smoky picked up an empty cartridge sh.e.l.l. A few yards farther on lay the second trap which had had a fox in it, as was plain to be seen by the tooth marks on the small brush and by the fur on the trap. That the fox had been shot was evident by the amount of fur that was lying on the ground where the animal had been caught.

This was more than I could stand without giving vent to my feelings.

After trying for some time to find words to give the case justice, and failing, Smoky remarked with all the coolness imaginable, that there was one thing certain about it, that it was a Democrat that took the fox and c.o.o.n. I was astonished at the remark and asked what he meant. "Well, if it had been a Republican that had taken them, he would have taken the traps, too."

We were now getting our trap line down to a few traps along the main creek, and we now worked those traps to the best of our skill, as we wished to get our share of the mink. We had not put out any mink traps until the first of November. The weather had been very dry and warm but as it had now turned cold and I found that I could not stand the cold as I once could, I told Smoky that we would take what mink pelts we could get in a few days and pull stakes. Smoky replied that that sort of "chin music" suited him. So after ten or twelve days of mink trapping we pulled the rest of the traps and went home, having to my idea a pleasant time.

Smoky agreed that the time was all right but he thought that the society was a little slow for him, saying that if it had not been for the boys on the c.o.o.n hunt we would not have seen a half dozen persons since we had been in camp. We had not made a large catch of furs but I thought that we had done fairly well, all things considered (one old played-out trapper and a kid who had never set a trap for anything greater than a muskrat or a ground hog).

[Ill.u.s.tration: WOODc.o.c.k AND SOME OF HIS CATCH.]

We had caught while in camp one bear, ten mink, eight c.o.o.n and some other furs as shown in the accompanying picture. After we left I set a few traps about home, catching three fox and a few skunk and four more mink, making fourteen mink in all. We got $4 and $4.50 for the fox, and $4 to $6 for the mink, and from 80 cents to $2.25 for skunk, and about the same for c.o.o.n. We got 30 to 40 cents each for muskrats.

This will about complete the story of my trapping for the season of 1908. I am sorry that I am no artist, as I could have sent some fine pictures, consisting of the bear in trap, as well as many other animals in traps, and other pictures that would have been interesting had I been able to take them at the right time and place.

CHAPTER XVI.

Hits and Misses on the Trail.

Many years ago when deer were plenty in this section of the country (North Central Pennsylvania) and dogs were allowed to run deer at their will, there being no restriction by way of law against hounding deer, I started from the house about 10 o'clock in the morning to go to some traps that I had set for mink along the creek in a swamp not far from our place. There was an old road or path that led from the wagon road down through the swamp to the creek. Along this path it was thickly grown up with laurel and other underbrush that nearly shut out the path.

I was accustomed to follow this path to the creek when going to look after my traps. On my way up to the road I heard dogs barking as though they were on the trail of something, but thought nothing of it as it was a common occurrence to hear hounds running nearly every day. I was following this path and had got within a few rods of the creek and was just about ready to climb over a fallen tree that lay across the path.

The tree lay up from the ground about a foot or so and it was perhaps three feet from the ground up to the top of the log. I was just in the act of climbing this log when a good-sized buck deer went to jump the log also and we met, head on. I had no gun and if I had would have had no time to use it. I seized the deer by the horns and forced him back from the log with a startled cry at the same time. The deer, instead of trying to get away, seemed bound to come over the log to where I was, so I held to the deer's horns, not daring to let loose.

I could keep him from raising over the log and after he tried several times to jump the log, he then tried to break loose from me, but I had the advantage of the deer owing to the log being so high that the deer could not pull me over, neither could the deer get in shape to strike me with his feet under the log. I think that I was so badly frightened at the sudden meeting with the deer, that I did not know what to do so I hung tight to the buck's horns and called as loud as I could for help, thinking that some one might possibly be pa.s.sing along the road, which was not so far away, hear my call and come to my a.s.sistance, but no one came. A man by the name of Nelson lived about a fourth of a mile away, who had a large bulldog. The dog's name was Turk. This dog would follow me at every chance that he could get. As no a.s.sistance came, I had about made up my mind to release my hold on the deer as my strength was fast leaving me, when I thought to call for Turk. I began calling as loud as I could and it seemed that the dog had heard my calling before I began, for almost before I was aware of his presence the dog sprang over the log and seized the deer by the hind leg, but the dog had barely grabbed the deer when the deer kicked him away from the path into the laurel.

In an instant the dog, with an angry yelp, jumped and seized the deer by the throat and in a moment the deer ceased to struggle and began to settle to the ground. As soon as I dared to release my hold on the deer's horns I got my pocket knife out and sprang over the log and ran the knife blade into the deer's throat. The deer did not seem to notice the knife. I think that the dog had choked the life out of him. The battle was over and it was only a few minutes but it was the hardest battle that I ever had and the dog came to my a.s.sistance none too soon for I could not have held on much longer.

This did not end the fight, for I had hardly begun to dress the deer before two dogs that were in pursuit of the deer came up. I was compelled to use sticks, stones and clubs to break up a fight between the bulldog and the hounds, though I finally got the row broke up and drove the hounds off in order to keep peace.

Boys, I am not sure whether the incident just related would be called a hit or a miss. I will tell of an incident that I call a hit. A man by the name of Wells and a brother of mine were camping near the old Jersey Sh.o.r.e turnpike and were trapping, also hunting deer. One day they had been off on the west side of the turnpike setting marten traps and had built a number of deadfalls and had also set several steel traps for foxes. On their way home to camp they had to cross several low ridges which were good sections for deer. It was nearly sundown and just the right time for deer to be on their feet feeding so we spread out along one of the ridges in hopes that some of us might get a shot. There was a good tracking snow and deer tracks were plenty. We were on the last ridge before we dropped off into the hollow to where the camp was and it was beginning to get dark in the heavy timber. I had come out onto a short spur of the ridge and was standing looking over the ground very carefully to see if I could not see a deer feeding, when I heard a shot fired by one of the boys. In a few moments a bunch of five or six deer came in sight, making their way around the point at breakneck speed.

I opened fire on the bunch without taking aim at any particular deer, as it was too dark to get down to real business and the deer were in too much of a hurry to change their feeding grounds to give me very much of a show. I was not stingy of my ammunition and pumped lead at the bunch as long as I could guess where the deer were. As soon as I had ceased to waste ammunition I heard my brother calling for me.

When I got to him he was at work taking the entrails out of a good sized buck. We dragged the deer down to where the deer were when I began shooting to see if I had chanced to hit one of the bunch. It was too dark to see much but we found a little blood on the snow in one place but concluded that I had not done much damage.

We dragged the buck that my brother had killed to camp, got our supper and made plans for the next day's work. It was agreed that I should look after the bunch of deer and see what effect my shots had on the deer that we had found that had bled some. I was to work this bunch of deer while the other boys went to look after the marten traps, being quite sure that there would be a marten or two in the traps, for we had built some deadfalls where we saw fresh marten signs quite plenty.

The next morning I was up early and had breakfast before daylight and ready to start out and carry out the work as already planned. It was about one-fourth of a mile from camp to the turnpike and as the deer which I was going to look for were making their course, the last I had seen them, in the direction of the road, I was going to go to the road and then go north along the road to see if they had crossed. The boys would take the same path to the road that I did when they would go south of camp to look after the marten traps.

I had my gun and stood in the cabin door waiting for my brother and Wells to get ready as I would accompany them as far as the road. The boys were having some trouble belting their leggins and creepers on to their satisfaction. I became tired of waiting and made the remark that I could go and kill a deer before they could get their feet dressed. My brother said that I had better be going then, so I started on up the path to the road. It was thawing a little, just enough to make the snow pack. I had gone about a hundred yards from camp when I saw a track of a deer where it had stepped into the path, then had turned back about forty yards to the left of the path. A large birch tree had blown down, knocking one or two smaller trees down so that it made a little jam. Seeing that the tracks were so fresh I knew that the deer was close by and as the woods were open I was quite positive that the deer must be about the jam of trees, when a large doe stepped out in sight and it was only the work of a moment to let her down in her tracks. When the gun cracked out jumped a yearling buck that was lying down just in the edge of the jam and bounded over the trunk of a large birch and stopped broadside to me and I let him down. Thinking of what I had said on leaving the cabin and what my brother had said to me I ran back to camp as quick as I could go without even stopping to cut the deer's throat. As I came around the corner of the cabin I heard my brother say to Wells, "I bet a gander that he has killed a deer all right, for he would not shoot twice so quick at anything else."

Well, the boys had not got their feet dressed yet, but chance had allowed me to make my word good only I had killed two deer instead of one. The boys helped me to hang up the deer and then went to the marten traps while I went in search of the deer I had started after.

Soon I struck the trail of the deer and shortly saw that one of them had a broken leg and I did not follow the trail far when the wounded deer dropped out and left the others. I began doing the creeping act and soon found the deer lying on his trail. I hung the deer up and went back to camp thinking that I had enough sport for one day and would let well enough alone.

When the boys came in at night they brought in two marten skins.

CHAPTER XVII.

Lost in the Woods.

One writer contends that the pocket compa.s.s is but very little use to a man in a dense forest. This, I think, depends largely upon circ.u.mstances. While the writer has spent a good portion of fifty years almost continuously in the woods, he has seldom found it necessary to use a compa.s.s to guide him out. Now this is due partly to the natural faculty of locating any particular place. This faculty of locating any certain place or point by giving or knowing the proper direction to take after one has traveled all day or for several days in the woods, I am inclined to credit to a sort of natural instinct.

I have often thought of the story of the Indian who was met by a man in the woods who asked the Indian if he was lost. The reply was, "No, me ain't lost, wigwam lost, me here." Now I can say without boasting that it is seldom that the camp or a given point gets lost with me, while it is not an uncommon occurrence for the writer to get lost or rather bothered himself in a strange locality. But after a moment's thought, I say the camp or the point I wish to reach is in that direction, and it is not often that I miss my calculation.

As I have had several occasions to search for parties lost in the woods, I wish to relate a particular instance of one man who was lost. It was an uncle of mine by the name of Nelson, and the writer went in search of him. To ill.u.s.trate that those who are lost lose their heads as soon as they find that they do not know where they are.