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THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A . KOFOID AND 
 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
THE PORTAGE. 
 
CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS 
 
 OR 
 
 A TRAPPING VENTURE IN MAINE 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY P. WELLS 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE AMERICAN SALMON-FIsnERMAN 
 "FLY-RODS AND FLY-TACKLE " ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 
 
 v U.^t: 
 
Copyright, 1889, by Harper & Brothers. 
 
 All rigliti reserved. 
 
TO 
 JOHN S. DANFORTH 
 
 OF PARMACHEENE LAKE, MAINE 
 
 IN MEMORY OF THE MANY HAPPY DAYS IN WHICH 
 
 PACK ON BACK, WE HAVE WANDERED TOGETHER THROUGH THE WILDERNESS 
 
 WHEREIN THE SCENE OF THE FOLLOWING PAGES IS LAID 
 
 <Jf)is Book is JDcbicateb 
 
 BY 
 HIS SINCERE FRIEND 
 
 THE AUTHOR 
 
qs't 
 
 to 
 
 ojj: 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 T)OOKS of hunting and trapping adventure for the young are su- 
 *-* perabundant. But whence do most of them derive their inspi- 
 ration ? Certainly not from nature. The toils and privations which 
 are the certain and continuous daily incidents of such a life are usu- 
 ally glozed over or ignored altogether, while purely imaginary, or 
 at best very infrequent, cases of good-fortune are grouped together 
 and follow one another as though of every-day occurrence. The 
 impression so produced on the minds of the young is an absolutely 
 false impression. That it is pernicious as well, the police records of 
 every large city bear witness. Hardly a week passes in which lads, 
 beguiled by such books, are not arrested on their way to kill Ind- 
 ians and hunt buffaloes in the far West. 
 
 This book is the outcome of a suggestion that a story truthfully 
 portraying the actual life of the hunter and trapper would be time- 
 ly. The author has succeeded or failed in his purpose, in the exact 
 proportion in which he succeeds or fails in impressing on the minds 
 of his readers the truth that a special education is as necessary to a 
 life in the wilderness as it is to navigate that other wilderness — the 
 boundless ocean. 
 
 H. P. W. 
 
 New York, September, 1889. 
 
 ffi313170 
 
CONTEXTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 DEPARTURE. — ARRIVAL. — A HUNTING TRIP IN THE FOREST. — DISCOURAGEMENT.— A 
 CHANGE OF PLAN Page 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE FOOD QUESTION AND ITS SOLUTION. — FRIENDLY ADVICE.— INTO THE HEART OF 
 THE WILDERNESS. — DEER. — THE TIMID MULE.— THE "BIG RIP." — THE FIRST CAMP. 
 — SUPPER. — " IT WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN A BAD IDEA IF WE HAD TAKEN A FEW 
 LESSONS IN COOKING." — SLEEP.— THE NIGHT ALARM 11 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BREAKFAST. — THE TRAPS ARE SET. — PASSING THE "BIG RIP." — DISASTER. — JOHN 
 
 DANT, THE TRAPPER. "HE WHO AIMS ALL OVER [AN ANIMAL] DON'T STAND 
 
 MUCH CHANCE OF HITTING ANYWHERE IN PARTICULAR.". 26 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TO THE SCENE OF DISASTER. — THE CAUSE OF THE NIGHT ALARM.— RUNNING A RAPID. 
 — NOTHING SAVED FROM THE WRECK. — "WHAT SHALL WE DO?" — A TIMELY IN- 
 VITATION.— THE "TIMID MULE" AGAIN. — A HINT ON TRAPPING. — POLING UP THE 
 "BIG RIP" 37 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PREPARING FOR A TRAMP. — LAYING OUT A SABLE LINE. — TRAPPING SABLE AND 
 FISHER 52 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LUNCH AT THE LITTLE RIVER. — CAMP-FIRES IN THE WOODS. — THE CARIBOU. — LOST. — 
 HOW A WOODSMAN FINDS HIS WAY IN THE FOREST. — A DEER-ROAD AND TRAIL... 70 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HACK AT DANT'S CAMP. — MOOSE-TALK. — A HUNTING ADVENTURE. — ATTACKED BY A 
 MOOSE 88 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THROUGH THE WOODS INTO CANADA. — HARD TRAVELLING. — THE BOUNDARY LINE 
 BETWEEN THE UNITED STATES AND CANADA. — ARRIVAL AT THE BOG.— A SHOT 
 AT A DEER 107 
 
vm CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 RIFLE -SHOOTING AT GAME. — HABITS OF DEER.— THE BOG CAMP. — VISIT FROM A 
 SKUNK.— HOW THE NORTH-EASTERN BOUNDARY LINK WAS LOCATED Page 125 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TRAILING A WOUNDED DEER. — "A CRACK SHOT." — ENCOUNTER WITH CARIBOU. A 
 
 DEAD DEER. A DEER-SLED.— A TUMP-LINE. — COASTING ON A DEER 142 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 VENISON. — THE TRAPPER'S REFRIGERATOR; ITS LOCK AND KEY. — BEAVER. — BEAVER 
 DAMS. — BEAVER FOOD. — THE BEAVER'S HOUSE. — THE BEAVER'S FOOD-PILE. — THE 
 BOAT THIEVES 159 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 BEAVERS' WORK.— BEAVERS' TEETH. HOW BEAVERS FELL TREES. — BEAVER CANALS. 
 
 — THE PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF THE BEAVER. — HABITS OF THE BEAVER. — A 
 CHANCE ENCOUNTER.— THE TRAPPER'S FRUIT -TREE.— TRAPPING BEAVERS. — SET- 
 TING BEAVER-TRAPS. — THE FRONT-LEG SET. THE HIND-LEG SET. — MIDWINTER 
 
 TRAPPING 1/8 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MOOSE -CALLING PROPOSED AND ABANDONED. — THEY TRY JACK-HUNTING. — AN UN- 
 FORTUNATE ENCOUNTER. — "GOOD GRACIOUS ! WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?" 201 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE WOODSMAN'S AXE AND ITS DANGERS. — AN ACCIDENT.— " GRAB IT, THERE'S BUT- 
 TONS ON IT!" — MOOSE -CALLING. — THE TRAPPER CALLS. — A MOOSE AT LAST.— A 
 STARTLING ENCOUNTER 217 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 RETURN TO THE LAKE — "TIT FOR TAT." THE TRAPPER LECTURES ON CARIBOU. 
 
 APPEARANCE OF THE CARIBOU. — HABITS OF THE CARIBOU. — THE CARIBOU'S CU- 
 RIOUS TRICKS ON THE ICE.— FOOD OF THE CARIBOU. A TRIAL OF SPEED.— A 
 
 CHASE ON SNOW-SHOES.— A CARIBOU HUNT 240 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 STORM-BOUND. — PLANS FOR THE FUTURE. — THE TRAPPER COMMENTS ON LIFE IN THE 
 WOODS.— THE BOYS RETURN HOME 267 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A Wayside View 3 
 
 Forest and Field 6 
 
 The Last of Civilization 7 
 
 The River 8 
 
 The Last House 9 
 
 The Starting Place 12 
 
 Buying Supplies 15 
 
 The Boat 17 
 
 Head of Cow Moose 20 
 
 On the River 21 
 
 Another Bend 22 
 
 An Abandoned Camp-fire 23 
 
 The "Big Rip" 27 
 
 They proceeded "to Wade" the Boat 
 
 Up-stream 29 
 
 In the Trackless Wilderness 31 
 
 The Forks 32 
 
 " Are you Mr. Dant ?" 33 
 
 A Trapper's Camp 35 
 
 Snowed in for the Winter 39 
 
 On the Trail 41 
 
 A Screech-owl 42 
 
 Above the Forks 43 
 
 Miles of Swamp and Trackless Forest. 45 
 
 Poling up a Rapid 47 
 
 Running a Rapid 49 
 
 In the Woods. . 53 
 
 A Forest Highway 57 
 
 A Weasel and its Victim 59 
 
 A Spring-pole 63 
 
 A Mountain Brook 64 
 
 An Otter and her Young 65 
 
 A Turbulent Mountain Stream 71 
 
 Escaping from a Forest Fire 73 
 
 A Burnt Forest 77 
 
 " Where the Wind has Raked through 
 
 the Trees " 80 
 
 A Peculiar-looking Place 81 
 
 On the Little River 82 
 
 Along the Bank of the Stream 83 
 
 PAGB 
 
 An Obstacle to Travel 85 
 
 A Lone Fisherman 86 
 
 Still-hunting Moose 89 
 
 Head of Bull Moose 93 
 
 Moose at Bay 95 
 
 Our Meat 97 
 
 Following an Elk Trail 101 
 
 An Anxious Moment 103 
 
 A Long Shot 105 
 
 A Group of Elk 109 
 
 "We'd better Lunch here and Rest 
 
 for an Hour " 112 
 
 A Lumber Works 113 
 
 A Lumberman's Bivouac ..." 116 
 
 The Trail of the Lumberman 119 
 
 Good Travelling 121 
 
 A Monarch of the Forest 127 
 
 In Wait on the Bog 129 
 
 Skunk 131 
 
 The Bog Valley 133 
 
 A Trapper's Cabin 135 
 
 In the Boundary Range 137 
 
 On the Way to the St. Lawrence .... 140 
 
 Overlooking the Bog Valley 143 
 
 On the Bog Stream 146 
 
 Camp in the Woods 147 
 
 A Tenant of the Bog 148 
 
 ' ' We Camped near a Pond about Four 
 
 Miles from here " 151 
 
 The Edge of the Woods 153 
 
 Head of the Bog Stream 155 
 
 Below the Bog Camp 161 
 
 A Beaver Dam 165 
 
 The Stone Dam 170 
 
 Beaver Houses 172 
 
 In an Old Beaver-works 175 
 
 Cut Surface of Birch Log 179 
 
 Chip cut by Beaver (natural size) 180 
 
 Beaver's Skull 181 
 
 Beaver Teeth (half-size) 181 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Birch Log cut by Beaver 183 
 
 Beavers at Work 185 
 
 Beaver's Tail 187 
 
 Beaver- trap 189 
 
 Setting a Beaver-trap 193 
 
 Ground-plan of Beaver-trap 197 
 
 "After the Snow begins to Fall" 203 
 
 Home of the Deer 207 
 
 Hunting by Moonlight 209 
 
 A Likely Place for Game 211 
 
 Over a Beaver Dam 214 
 
 Between the Lake and the Forks 221 
 
 ' ' There's about Five Miles of those 
 
 Rapids— in places very Nasty". . . . 223 
 
 Dropping down a Rapid on Poles 225 
 
 "Made me Wish I was back at the 
 
 Lake " 227 
 
 PAGK 
 
 Moose-calling 229 
 
 Movement of the Horn in the Moose- 
 call 232 
 
 Moose-hunting by Jack-light 235 
 
 When at length the Lake appeared . . 243 
 " They are Spring Ponds, and mighty 
 
 Cold" 245 
 
 Head of a Bull Caribou 247 
 
 Head of a Cow Caribou 251 
 
 Caribou on the Ice 253 
 
 In Luck 255 
 
 Return from Caribou-hunting 263 
 
 "Instantly Everything is in Confu- 
 sion" 269 
 
 "The Thermometer 'way below Zero 
 
 and the Air filled with flying Snow " 273 
 The Last View of the Wilderness 275 
 
 Head and Tail Pieces to each Chapter. 
 
CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Departure.— Arrival.— A Hunting Trip in the Forest. — Discouragement.— A Change 
 
 of Plan. 
 
 TT^VERYTHING has a beginning — a rule to which this story is 
 -*-^ no exception. 
 
 The events of which it is the history arose from the following 
 incident : 
 
 Two middle-aged gentlemen, Mr. Henry Hildreth and Mr. Rich- 
 ard Halstead, sat facing one another in the library of the latter one 
 pleasant evening in early October. It needed but a glance at the 
 two gentlemen to convince the most careless observer that they 
 were men of mark among their fellows. Indeed, in wealth as in 
 social position and influence they stood second to none in the city 
 in which they lived. They had been school-boys and college chums 
 together, and the love and confidence in one another which had 
 then arisen had never diminished nor grown cold. 
 
 " So you think we had better let them go, Harry ?" said Mr. 
 Halstead. 
 
 "Yes, I am inclined to think so," replied his companion. "I 
 have talked the matter over with my boy, as you have with yours ; 
 and though, of course, we can forbid them going, I don't think we 
 1 
 
2 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 can talk the idea out of their heads. The boys have been brought 
 up so far by persuasion rather than force, and that plan hasn't 
 worked so badly that I am inclined to change it now.' If their 
 hearts are really set on this trapping expedition after all we have 
 said to them, as certainly is the case, why not let them try it '. If 
 they gain nothing else, they will surely get an idea of the rough 
 side of life, which will do no harm to boys brought up never to 
 know what it is to want a meal or to sleep on anything harder than 
 a spring-bed." 
 
 "Very well; we will consider that settled, then," said Mr. Hal- 
 stead. " They are tough and strong, fair swimmers, and used to 
 fire-arms; so I hardly think they will be likely to get into any 
 scrape so serious that they cannot pull through it somehow. But 
 as they are following their own judgment rather than ours, don't 
 you think it would be wise to give them a fair start ? Then, if the 
 trip does not turn out quite as they expect, they will have but them- 
 selves to blame." 
 
 " Certainly," replied Mr. Hildreth ; " that is, let them say how 
 much money they wish to complete their outfit and how much to 
 take with them, and let them have it, if not altogether unreason- 
 able. But except in that respect I should leave them entirely to 
 their own devices." 
 
 So the boys, who bore their fathers' names, received permission 
 to go. 
 
 The rail, a wagon, and time brought Dick Halstead and Harry 
 Hildreth, with their effects, to the margin of the Maine wilderness. 
 Seventeen years old, well- grown and able-bodied for their age, 
 their minds inflamed by much reading of hunting and trapping 
 books, they had at last their hearts' desire, and the region and the 
 life for which they had so long sighed now lay close before them. 
 But how different is a view obscured and mellowed by distance 
 from the same scene close at hand ! At home but the main feat- 
 ures of the enterprise had attracted their attention, and these 
 seemed simple and easily provided for. Now a thousand and one 
 
ARRIVAL. 5 
 
 practical and hitherto unsuspected details obtruded themselves, 
 each petty in itself, but upon which, they had still the sense to see, 
 hung the success or failure of their expedition. It was like an 
 army preparing for a campaign. The dullest may recognize that 
 centres where many roads meet are the points of importance, upon 
 the occupation of which depends the power to make every man 
 available in time of danger, and even with a smaller army always 
 to outnumber the enemy at the actual point of attack. This to 
 many appears to be all there is in the art of war. But between 
 the army and the places it should occupy lie streams and rivers to 
 be crossed. A single storm may convert the solid earth, churned 
 by thousands of wagons and a numerous artillery, into a quag- 
 mire. Yet despite every obstacle the men must be fed three 
 times a day, their ammunition must attend them closely, provision 
 must be made for the care and transportation of the sick and 
 wounded, and a hundred other contingencies must be provided for 
 which tax to the uttermost the foresight of the ablest com- 
 mander. 
 
 And so the boys found it. They thought they had planned 
 their campaign with judgment and skill. Now they found that 
 few of their plans extended beyond the edge of the apparently 
 interminable forest which spread before them, unbroken except by 
 the hand of Nature almost to the St. Lawrence River. Another 
 hour would bring them not only to the small and scattered settle- 
 ment which here formed the outpost of civilization, but even to the 
 end of the last wagon-road. The time for action was at hand, yet 
 they knew not what to do. In their dilemma they appealed for 
 assistance to the driver of the wagon that bore them. He advised 
 them to stop at a certain farm-house, the last in the settlement, until 
 they had time to look around them and decide what w T as best. 
 
 They concluded to do so for that night, and then to camp just 
 within the edge of the w r oods, so as to rely on the settlement for 
 such food supplies as the town alone could furnish, and to hunt and 
 trap on foot through the forest. They soon learned, however, that 
 the settlers and their boys had trapped and hunted the immediate 
 neighborhood so closely that they must either go much farther into 
 
CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 the wilderness or give up all hope of a successful trip. If room for 
 doubt still remained, one day's tramp in the woods proved beyond 
 question that a change of plan was necessary. 
 
 They set out in high spirits, the one with a double-barrelled 
 breech-loading shot-gun, and the other with a Winchester rifle upon 
 his shoulder. Both carried ammunition enough for a 
 
 week's campaign, for what #u, burden could be more use- 
 
 less than an empty gun ? 
 
 UK 
 
 A large sheath -knife, gor- 
 
 FOREST AND FIELD. 
 
A DAY'S TRAMP IN THE WOODS. 7 
 
 geous with red leather and German silver, and a heavy revolver 
 hung from the waist-belt of each. To what use these could be put 
 for which their guns and pocket jack-knives would not better serve, 
 they neither stopped to think then nor when they drew so heavily 
 upon their treasury to buy them. Were not the hunters and trap- 
 pers of the books always so provided ? With these things, and 
 food for one meal, they entered the forest. 
 
 How little the reality resembled their anticipations ! Where 
 were the great trees with the pleasant shady lanes between their 
 gray trunks that the boys were accustomed to in vacation rambles 
 
 THE LAST OF CIVILIZATION. 
 
 in the country? Not here, at all events. Forest and shade they 
 found in plenty, but the pleasant lanes were altogether wanting. 
 Fallen trees lay in every direction, the larger crushing the smaller 
 to the earth in their descent, their roots and branches mingled to- 
 gether in an almost impassable tangle. Bushes and saplings threw 
 out their stems almost parallel with the ground, each a trap to 
 catch one's feet and throw him headlong. Large roots ran along 
 the surface of the earth as slippery as if greased, and many were 
 
8 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 the tumbles they occasioned. When a soft carpet of moss prom- 
 ised easier walking, the boys found that it but covered loose stones 
 and roots, among which was hidden many a pitfall. At every 
 few feet was a tree trunk to be climbed over or crawled under ; or 
 if they worked their way out of the timber, it was but to fare even 
 worse in an alder swamp. It was heart-breaking work. 
 
 THE RIVER. 
 
DISCOURAGEMENT. 
 
 9 
 
 After some four 
 hours of this labor 
 the boys, stream- 
 ing with perspira- 
 tion and bruised by 
 many a fall, halted 
 to rest. 
 
 "Well, Dick," 
 said Harry, " I have 
 had about enough 
 of this sort of thing. 
 What do you say ?" 
 
 " I don't think 
 there is much use 
 in going any far- 
 ther," replied Dick. 
 " We make too 
 much noise to 
 get near anything 
 worth shooting, 
 and I don't see 
 how we can go any 
 more quietly : do 
 you ?" 
 
 "No," said Har- 
 ry ; " and besides, 
 it's clear we can't 
 break our necks 
 and scratch our 
 eyes out through 
 this stuff every 
 day, and accom- 
 plish anything 
 trapping, either. 
 We can't cover 
 ground enough. Let's go back to the settlement and get a boat 
 
 THE LAST HOUSE. 
 
10 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 and take to the river. We can hunt and trap along that, and carry 
 everything we have with only the trouble of rowing." 
 
 " I'd rather row twenty miles than walk one here," replied Dick. 
 " But the boat will cost a good deal, and we may run short of 
 money to get home with if we buy one." 
 
 "I suppose we can hire one," said Harry ; "and even if we have 
 to buy, we'll have furs and moose and caribou hides enough when 
 we come back to make us all right so far as money is concerned." 
 
 Fortunately a range of hills on one side and the river on the 
 other confined the boys to a rather narrow strip of country, and 
 though they wandered from the shortest line considerably, they 
 reached the settlement at last, bruised and weary in body and dis- 
 couraged in mind. 
 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Food Question and its Solution. — Friendly Advice.— Into the Heart of the Wil- 
 derness.— Deer.— The Timid Mule.— The " Big Rip."— The First Camp.— Sup- 
 per. — " It wouldn't have been a bad idea if we had taken a few lessons in cook- 
 ing." — Sleep. — The Night Alarm. 
 
 THE bright morning sun brought fresh hope and courage to the 
 boys with the new day. The river headed somewhere up near 
 the Canadian boundary. They would inquire about it, and try to 
 hire a boat. Then there was the question of provisions, for hereto- 
 fore they had lived with a settler. What would they need % Per- 
 haps the keeper of the solitary little store might know. They 
 would consult him. 
 
 He did know. How long were they to be gone ? Six weeks ? 
 The store-keeper figured upon a sheet of wrapping-paper for a few 
 minutes with a very stubby lead -pencil, and then reported as 
 follows : 
 
 " They would need 84 pounds of flour, 20 of pork, 21 of butter, 
 32 of maple-sugar, 16 of white sugar, 16 of canned milk, 21 of hard 
 
12 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 tack, 16 of oatmeal, 3 of tea, a large box of matches, a small bag of 
 salt, and a package of pepper." 
 
 " Oh, I don't care much for tea !" exclaimed Harry. " Let's have 
 coffee instead ; and besides, we ought to have some potatoes — say a 
 bushel or a bushel and a half. I've heard there is nothing one 
 misses in the woods so much as potatoes. And onions — onions are 
 first-rate, and they won't let me eat them at home. Say half a 
 bushel of onions. And then we ought to have some beans. I have 
 heard there is lots of hard work in beans — say eight or ten pounds 
 of beans. And then there's rice — " 
 
 " Hold on, Harry, for gracious' sake," interrupted Dick, taking 
 alarm from a broad grin which was gradually overspreading the 
 leathery face of the store -keeper. "We don't want to keep a 
 restaurant. Let's draw a line at the beans until we see how much 
 weight we have already bargained for. How many pounds of 
 coffee will we need — twelve ? Well, wait a moment, and I'll figure 
 how much everything will weigh." He did so. 
 
HUNTING PROBABILITIES. 13 
 
 " Good gracious ! over three hundred pounds of provisions ! 
 How are we to carry these and all our other things ?" asked Dick. 
 
 "When -people are going into the back country trapping," the 
 store-keeper answered, " they generally spend quite a while before- 
 hand in carrying their food and traps to where they think game is 
 likely to be plenty, and in distributing them about. It's now the 
 10th of October, and you ought to begin to trap on the 15th. You 
 will have a pretty good load, but I guess you can get all your stuff 
 and yourselves into a boat, if it's big enough." 
 
 " But we intend to hunt," said Harry. " We heard that there 
 were lots of moose, deer, and caribou in these woods. Can't we 
 depend some on hunting, and take less of these things ? We came 
 up here to rough it. We don't care for many luxuries." 
 
 " Well, boys, I guess you will find it rough enough to suit you, 
 no matter what you take," replied the store-keeper, with a smile. 
 " Game is plent} 7 enough. But hunting is one thing, finding is an- 
 other, and to kill game when found is another thing still. The 
 game in this country, or in any other that I ever heard of, does not 
 come up to the hunter hollering to be shot. Until the ground is 
 well covered with snow you can't get through these woods without 
 making noise enough to frighten every animal within half a mile" 
 (the boys looked at one another, but said nothing), "and as the 
 woods are too thick as a general thing to see an animal over about 
 thirty yards, I don't think your chance of any very fat living at 
 their expense is really first-rate." 
 
 " Then you think we will not be able to find much game ?" 
 said Dick. 
 
 " Not unless you should happen to catch an animal at the water, 
 I should say, and at this season of the year they don't come down 
 very much. At any rate, I would not advise you to depend on it. 
 The allowance I have given you is just what those who trap for a 
 living take, and you may depend upon it they take in all the chances 
 at big game that come along." 
 
 The boys adjourned for consultation, and while still hoping for 
 much better luck, wisely concluded to follow the store - keeper's 
 advice, provided he would agree to buy back such supplies as they 
 
14 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 did not use. Not only was this easily arranged, but he rented them 
 a boat as well. They learned from him that there was good boating 
 for thirty miles up. There they would find the * k Big Kip," a rapid 
 they would have to " carry " round. Above that were other rapids, 
 but they could pass them in the boat. Thirty-three miles up, the 
 river forked. Here he advised them to establish their camp, for 
 above that were five miles of successive falls and quick-water to 
 where the main river emerged from a lake. 
 
 u Above the Forks," said the store-keeper, "is John Dant's coun- 
 try, where he lives the year round. Nobody else ever traps there. 
 John is a real good fellow, and knows his business as well as any 
 man living. He wouldn't care much for what you would catch, but 
 he would care a good deal for what you would prevent him from 
 getting by tramping about the country. He is up there now, and it 
 may be as well for you to know how to find him in case anything 
 happens and you need help. A plain trail comes out on the west 
 bank of the east branch of the river about three hundred yards 
 above the Forks. This will lead you to his camp on the lake. You 
 can't miss it. You will find him almost any Sunday. At other 
 times he may be away on his trapping lines." 
 
 In the first gray of the next morning the two boys loaded the 
 boat, and taking the oars in turn every half-hour, proceeded up the 
 river. 
 
 Neither had ever seen such a stream. Beyond the settlement it 
 entered the forest like a tunnel, but little wider than an average 
 city street from house to house. The water was dark brown, slug- 
 gish, and apparently bottomless. The abrupt banks were too high 
 to enable them to look into the surrounding woods. Fallen trees, 
 which storms or the washing away of the banks had thrown into 
 the water, were passed at every few yards, some mere skeletons, 
 some looking as though they had met their fate within the hour, 
 while others leaned out over the stream tottering to their fall. 
 
 For some two hours they rowed on, always hoping that in the 
 next of the many bends of the stream they would see large game, 
 and keeping as silent as possible that no act of theirs might give 
 
BUYING SUPPLIES. 
 
INTO THE HEART OF THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 17 
 
 it alarm and lose them a shot. As turn after turn was passed 
 without result, expectation gradually changed into hope, and hope 
 gave way to discouragement. 
 
 " This is not what you would call a really cheerful watercourse, 
 Harry," said Dick, at last. 
 
 " Keminds me of the river Styx," replied Harry ; and relaxing 
 the caution of which they were both heartily tired, they began to 
 
 THE BOAT. 
 
 talk freely. It was just too soon. On opening the very next reach 
 of the river, while Harry was in the middle of an earnest harangue, 
 there were a splash and a crash, and a buck and doe vanished from 
 a small grassy cove into the woods. Owing to repeated changes 
 from oar to paddle, Harry's rifle was then with Dick in the stern 
 of the boat, and Dick's shot-gun near Harry on the rowing seat. 
 Warned of danger as the animals must have been by the noise 
 2 
 
18 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 the boys made before they came in sight, even had each seized the 
 weapon in reach, it is doubtful if he would have had time to fire 
 except perhaps at random. But instead each jumped for his own 
 gun, meeting midway, and almost spilling themselves and all their 
 possessions into the river. By the time they were ready to fire, the 
 animals were, by a moderate computation, about a mile away. 
 
 At noon they landed, ate a cold lunch brought from the settle- 
 ment, and were soon off again. The river now changed in appear- 
 ance. An alder swamp, dotted with elms, seemed to extend with- 
 out limit east and Avest from either bank. Some current was now 
 felt, and the stream narrowed and grew shallower. Through this 
 they rowed hour after hour, until it seemed as though the end of 
 the swamp had been lost. They were now not only depressed in 
 spirit, but weary in body as well, and labored on in silence. 
 
 Bounding a sharp bend of the stream, Dick, w r ho was steering, 
 exclaimed, " Harry, just look there ! What do you suppose that 
 big mule is doing 'way up here ?" 
 
 Harry turned. There sure enough was the long head of a 
 brown animal furnished with enormous ears staring at them over 
 the bushes, not twenty yards away. The boys stared at the ani- 
 mal, and the animal stared at the boys. Then like a flash it dis- 
 appeared, and they heard it crash through the bushes in flight. 
 
 " That was a mighty timid mule, Dick," said Harry, at last. 
 
 " I wish I was as sure about the mule as I am that we are a 
 couple of asses, Harry. I believe that was a moose." 
 
 " A moose ! Why, it didn't have any horns." 
 
 " Cow-moose don't have horns. Why, we must be nearly thirty 
 miles from the settlement. How could any tame mule get through 
 all the woods and swamps between here and there ? I tell you it 
 was a cow-moose ; I feel sure of it. AVe've had our chance, and 
 lost it like a couple of idiots. It makes me sick. Everything 
 seems to go wrong somehow. Let's camp at the first good place. 
 I guess the Forks will wait for us until to-morrow." 
 
 At the head of the next bend they saw a wide pool, into which 
 the river fell in quite a heavy rapid. At the foot of the pool 
 was a small grassy island. They concluded they had reached the 
 
THE FIRST CAMP. 19 
 
 " Big Kip." An abundance of drift-wood was lodged on the upper 
 end of the island ; so with wood and water close at hand, and 
 plenty of grass for a bed, a better camping-place could hardly be 
 hoped for. 
 
 Their tent was soon pitched. The next thing was a fire and 
 supper. Assured by an obliging dealer that a camp stove (in which 
 a lot of joints of stove-pipe, pots, kettles, and plates were packed 
 like a Chinese puzzle) was indispensable to their welfare in the 
 woods, they had bought it. An axe -head and its handle were 
 hunted up. How they wished they had put them together be- 
 fore ! but it was no use to think of that then. 
 
 " You put on the axe-head, Harry, and I will set up the stove, 
 and try and make some bread or slapjacks. Which shall it be ?" 
 
 "Oh, slapjacks are good — that is, if you know how to make 
 them ; and we've got plenty of maple sugar. 1 " 
 
 " I have never tried," said Dick, " but I suppose it's easy enough. 
 It wouldn't have been a bad idea if we had taken a few lessons in 
 cooking before we left the settlement, but I never thought of it." 
 
 " No more did I ; but I guess we will get along somehow,'' 
 replied Harry. 
 
 It was a longer job than they thought to get the axe - head 
 fitted ; but it was done at last. Then Harry advanced to the 
 pile of drift-wood with all the confidence of youth and inexperi- 
 ence. He had seen others chop, and it seemed so simple that no 
 doubt entered his mind but that he could cut all the wood they 
 needed in a very few minutes. He attacked a log about six inches 
 through. He chopped and rested, and chopped and rested again. 
 Do what he would, he could not make the axe strike twice in 
 the same place. Then he strove to make up for lack of skill 
 by force of muscle. At last he gave it up. The log looked 
 as though a rat had gnawed it, but it was still far from cut 
 through. 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! if Ave had only brought a saw ! An axe isn't 
 good for anything, anyway, except to split wood with. I've been 
 doing my best at this log for nearly half an hour. At this rate 
 we won't get wood enough for supper before morning." 
 
20 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " Never mind, Harry ; try some of the small limbs. They will 
 be better for the stove, anyway." 
 
 Thus a fire was at last had. In the mean time Dick had 
 mixed up some flour, water, and salt, which he fondly thought 
 would make his "slapjacks." He greased the frying-pan with a 
 
 HEAD OF COW MOOSE. 
 
 piece of pork, filled the teapot with water, threw into it a hand- 
 ful of tea, and put it on the stove. 
 
 " It will be dark soon, Harry. We ought to have brought a 
 lantern. We shall have to make some kind of a camp-fire, or 
 we sha'n't be able to see anything in a little while." 
 
THE FIRST ATTEMPT AT COOKING. 
 
 21 
 
 Everything else was dropped for this. They wasted no time 
 with the axe, but pulled from the heap of drift-wood such pieces 
 as they could handle, piled them together, and after much trou- 
 ble made them burn. Then the cooking was resumed, for they 
 were now as hungry as wolves. Dick poured a charge of his 
 flour paste into the frying-pan, put it on the stove, and both 
 watched the result with breathless interest. The mixture began 
 to solidify. Dick picked up one corner, as he had seen the cook 
 
 
 
 s»i 
 
 ON THE KIVER. 
 
 do at home in making buckwheat cakes, and studied the under- 
 side. It did not look very hopeful, but it might eat better than 
 it looked, so he turned it over to give the other side a chance. 
 Soon that too seemed to have had all the fire it could well stand, 
 and the so-called slapjack was put on a tin plate. 
 
 " We might as well eat it while it's hot, Harry." So the boys 
 divided it, dosed it with maple syrup made from their sugar, and 
 began. The first bite was enough 
 as leather, the inside was perfectly raw 
 
 Though the outside was hard 
 
22 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 ANOTHER BEND. 
 
 "We must have cooked it too 
 quick; we must use a slower heat," 
 said Dick. And so they Avent on 
 experimenting, first in one direc- 
 tion and then in another, with a hot fire, with a moderate fire, 
 and with a weak fire. But do what they would, the result was 
 simply uneatable, for of the necessity of baking-powder, or some- 
 
A FEW EXPERIMENTS. 
 
 23 
 
 thing of the kind to make the flour rise, they were utterly igno- 
 rant. 
 
 Suspicious now of everything, they tried their tea, It had 
 boiled down till it was as bitter as gall. 
 
 " It seems to me I have seen tea made by heating the water and 
 then putting the tea in," said Dick. " Suppose we try it that way, 
 and not put in so much V 
 
 AN ABANDONED CAMP-FIRE. 
 
 " I am ready to try anything different from what we have 
 tried," said Harry. " I had no idea there was any trouble in cook- 
 ing such simple things as we have. If you took the rest of the slap- 
 jack mix, and thinned it down well with water and then boiled it, 
 don't you think it would have to cook ?" 
 
 " We might as well try it," replied Dick. " We will have to do 
 that, or bod some potatoes. There can't be any secret in boiling- 
 potatoes. Do you think there can?" 
 
 " I don't know," replied Harry. " I should have said there was 
 no secret in making slapjacks. The flour will be quickest ; so let's 
 trv that," 
 
24 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 So they tried the flour. The result was burned considerably, 
 and though it did not pamper their appetites much, still it could be 
 swallowed. They began camp about five o'clock. It was nearly 
 ten before they had finished eating. ISo dishes were washed. 
 " Wouldn't they have to be used again in the morning ?" 
 
 With hearts like lead, and in perfect silence, the boys folded up 
 their coats to serve as pillows, and rolled themselves in their blank- 
 ets within the tent for the night. Tired as they were from their 
 long day's work, sleep came but tardily to their relief. It was all 
 so strange, so lonely ! Except for the roar of the river in the rapid 
 above, no sound could be heard. Even the wind was still. But 
 fatigue at last overcame their despondency, and they slept. How 
 long they had slept they could not tell, when a shriek rang out 
 through the quiet night which brought the boys into a sitting post- 
 ure in an instant. Dazed by their sudden awaking, each could ask 
 the other in startled whisper, " What was that ?" but neither could 
 reply or indeed assign a cause for the horror which thrilled him. 
 That something dreadful had happened they knew, since it had 
 aroused them both ; but what it might be neither could tell. They 
 had not long to await a solution. Again the shriek rang out, so 
 loud, so near, so appalling in character, that it seemed to freeze their 
 very blood. 
 
 For a moment the boys fairly gasped for breath. Then Dick 
 whispered, " For Heaven's sake, Harry, what's that ?" Harry's 
 tongue clove to the roof of his mouth with terror, and it was only 
 alter some effort that he managed to reply, " I don't know — I guess 
 it must be a panther." "It sounds like the shriek of something 
 dreadful," said Dick ; " but if it is a panther, let us stand to our guns 
 and prepare to defend, ourselves. Oh, how dark it is ! If we had 
 only brought a lantern!" It was indeed dark within the tent, and 
 more by the sense of feeling than of sight the boys buckled on their 
 knives and revolvers and found their guns. This done, they again 
 relapsed into silence, both anxiously awaiting, yet with dread, a 
 renewal of the sound which had so startled them. 
 
 Again it came, this time evidently not quite so near. " This will 
 never do, Dick," whispered Harry ; " we might be attacked here 
 
THE NIGHT ALARM. 
 
 25 
 
 before we had a chance to use our guns, and then it is so dark that 
 if we did have time we would be almost sure to miss or shoot one 
 another. It is plain it is not on the island, and I've heard panthers 
 don't like to cross water. We must go outside and stir up the fire. 
 Then if anything does come we can at least stand some kind of 
 a chance to do something." It was with trembling fingers they 
 loosened the flap of the tent. A few smouldering embers and 
 unconsumed brands only were left of the fire, and these Harry 
 proceeded with nervous haste to collect and fan into flame, while 
 Dick stood guard over him with his loaded gun at full cock. The 
 fire having been coaxed into new life and well replenished with 
 fuel, the boys resumed their watch. For an hour or more it lasted 
 without result, nothing but the roar of the stream and the soughing 
 of the wind through the trees breaking the stillness of the night. 
 
 " It must be gone now, whatever it was," said Dick, at last. 
 " Let's build up the fire again with lots of wood, and try to sleep 
 once more." They did so, and though not again disturbed, their 
 sleep was fitful and unrefreshing. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Breakfast. — The Traps are Set.— Passing the "Big Rip."— Disaster. — John Dant, the 
 Trapper. — "He who aims all over [an animal] don't stand much chance of hitting 
 anywhere in particular." 
 
 \\T HEIST morning at last came to them, the boys concluded to 
 * * try boiled potatoes for breakfast, and having started a tire 
 and put them on to cook, they awaited the result with anxious im- 
 patience. Though neither spoke, each thought of home with a sigh 
 of regret, and of the good breakfast that always had awaited him 
 there as soon as dressed. Nor strive as they would, could they alto- 
 gether avoid the reflection that if in the future it took them five 
 hours to cook one meal, as it had done the night before, even if they 
 contented themselves with two meals a day, the hours of daylight 
 which they would be able to devote to hunting and trapping would 
 be few indeed. But though the outlook was none of the brightest, 
 still the boys were by no means devoid of pluck. If the idea of 
 abandoning their enterprise did occur to either, he kept it quite to 
 himself. 
 
 " There's no use in watching that pot boil, Harry," said Dick, 
 after some time had been thus spent. " Let's jam the stove full of 
 wood, and go ashore and set our traps. We can't be more than 
 two or three miles from the Forks, and we ought not to lose any 
 chance of fur, or we may not have money enough to get home 
 with." 
 
THE TKAPS ARE SET. 
 
 27 
 
 " What shall we do for bait ?" 
 said Harry. 
 
 " Oh, a piece of pork will an- i 
 swer well enough until we can I ii(0V> ' 
 shoot something," replied Dick. 
 
 So they took their dozen traps, the ' ' big rip. " 
 
2S CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 and carefully tied a small piece of pork to the trencher (the plat- 
 form pressure upon which springs the trap) of each. Then, land- 
 ing, they proceeded up the river, setting a trap wherever they saw 
 a convenient root or tree to chain the trap to. They found a steel 
 trap a lively article to handle, and quite indifferent whether it 
 nipped boy or game. 
 
 " It's going to be an awful job to carry all our things and the 
 boat around that rapid, Dick. Let's look it over on our way back 
 to camp, and see if we can't get the boat up somehow with her load 
 in her." 
 
 " I'm in favor of that if it's possible," replied Dick. " It's bad 
 enough to get yourself through these bushes without carrying any- 
 thing. One thing I have made up my mind to : If this bowie-knife 
 and revolver want to go through these woods any more with me, 
 they must carry themselves, for I won't. They weigh about a ton 
 around my waist, and catch in every bush I pass." 
 
 ; ' But, Dick, suppose we get a moose, and want to skin it ?" 
 
 " If we get near enough to a moose to put a knife in him, I don't 
 think he will be so impatient to be skinned that he won't wait till 
 I can go for my knife. As soon as I get to camp, off this belt 
 comes, and off it will stay until I see more use for this knife and 
 pistol than I have seen so far." 
 
 They found the rapid neither very long nor the water very deep, 
 though it was quite rough. 
 
 " I think we can do it," said Harry. 
 
 " We'll try it anyway," replied Dick. " We can take off our 
 drawers and pantaloons, and wade the boat up. We will have to 
 keep our shoes on, though, the bottom is so stony. But we've got 
 another pair that we can put on till these are dry." 
 
 They found their potatoes boiled to pieces when they reached 
 camp, but it was no time to be particular. They satisfied their ap- 
 petites as best they could, and reloading the boat, reached the foot 
 of the rapid. 
 
 Here they made the changes in their dress that Dick had sug- 
 gested, and proceeded " to wade " the boat up-stream. It hung back 
 hard. Again and again it ran upon sunken stones, but still they 
 
WADING THE "BIG RIP.' 
 
 29 
 
 made progress. The smooth water above was at last close at hand. 
 They were now almost exhausted with their efforts. Then the boat 
 stuck on a rock, and in trying to get it off, Dick lost his footing ; 
 Harry, starting to help him, let go of the boat. Instantly the bow 
 swung round with the current, the stern slid off the rock, and the 
 boat was swept down-stream broadside to. It struck heavily again 
 
 THEY PROCEEDED "TO WADE THE BOAT UP-STREAM. 
 
 and again, but it still remained right side up. It was nearly at the 
 foot of the rapid, and all might yet have been well, when it encoun- 
 tered a rock with tremendous force, rolled over and over, and disap- 
 peared in the pool. 
 
 The boys stood as though petrified until after the catastrophe. 
 Then, when they saw their all vanish before their eyes, they sought 
 the bank, and burst into tears. 
 
 Half starved, broken down with unaccustomed fatigue, without 
 food, and without the means of procuring either food or fire, they 
 were alone, half naked, in the trackless wilderness. No wonder they 
 were overcome. 
 
30 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " Oh, Harry, what shall we do ?— what shall we do ? We can 
 never walk back to the settlement through these woods. Why, oh. 
 why did we not carry around the rapid, as the store-keeper ad- 
 vised?" 
 
 Nothing could have been better timed. Stung by the implied 
 reproach, since his suggestion had brought the accident about, Har- 
 ry gathered his wits together and regained his resolution. 
 
 " It's hard luck, Dick, but it won't do us any good to cry over it. 
 As you say, we could never find our way back through the woods, 
 even if we did not starve on the road. We must find that Dant's 
 camp. The store-keeper said he was a good fellow. If he is there, 
 he cannot refuse to help us. If he is not, we must take possession, 
 and make it right with him the best way we can when he comes 
 back." 
 
 Wading the river when they could, and following the bank 
 where they could not, the trail was at last found. Spurred by the 
 dread of a night in the woods without fire in their present condi- 
 tion, and mindful of the alarm of the preceding night, they hastened 
 on, stopping only when rest became absolutely necessary. At last 
 the forest looked thinner before them. Then came a sound which 
 riveted them to the spot. Yes, there could be no mistake ; it was the 
 sound of an axe, and at no great distance. 
 
 A few moments later, as the boys burst out of the woods, a man 
 stepped from behind a bush, rifle in hand. 
 
 Running up to him, Dick asked, " Are you Mr. Dant ?" and with- 
 out waiting for an answer : " The store-keeper at the settlement said 
 you were a real good fellow, and if we got into trouble to come to 
 you. We've lost all we had, even our money, but — ' 
 
 " We don't help people in trouble for money in this country, my 
 boy," broke in Dant. " I heard you coming, and I thought I was in 
 for a caribou instead of such a visit as this. You are welcome, 
 though. AVas there anybody else in your party ?" 
 
 " No ; there were only we two," replied Harry. 
 
 " That's all right, then. I never bother about trouble until 
 after supper, unless it's pressing. I see you're wet, and hungry 
 too, I suppose. Come into my cabin and get on some dry clothes. 
 
AT THE LAKE. 
 
 31 
 
 After supper we will talk 
 things over. 11 
 
 It was a welcome in- 
 vitation. Before, exercise 
 had kept them tolerably- 
 warm. Now the cold wind 
 from the lake seemed to 
 pierce their very bones. It 
 was only a rough log-hut, 
 but then it was dry and warm. A fire burned in an open stone 
 
 IN THE TRACKLESS WILDERNESS. 
 
32 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 fireplace on one side of the single room, opposite to which was a 
 rude bunk some ten feet wide, covered with evergreen boughs. A 
 
 •*2 '.HP. 
 
 
 
 table of hewn planks built against the side of the cabin and a few 
 stools completed the furniture. 
 
 The trapper stirred the fire into a bright blaze, and then pulled 
 some clothes from a shelf. " Here, boys, are a couple of warm un- 
 dershirts and drawers, and two pairs of stockings. I have only one 
 extra pair of pants ; you will have to draw lots for them. Now 
 climb out of those wet clothes and get into these dry ones as soon 
 as you can." 
 
 In a few moments he had their wet things steaming before the 
 fire, and began to prepare for supper. 
 
 " Now we are dry, can't we help you, Mr. Dant ?" asked Harry. 
 
 " Oh yes, you can help me first-rate if you will. Just pull up 
 
JOHN DANT, THE TRAPPER. 
 
 33 
 
 those stools and sit down and watch that fire burn. That's all I 
 want you to do till after supper." 
 
 So the boys watched the fire, and studied their host. He was 
 rather a tall spare man, with short dark hair, keen brown eyes, a 
 long straight nose, rather a wide thin-lipped mouth, and a square 
 chin with a big dent in its middle. A gray flannel shirt, gray trou- 
 sers upheld by suspenders, short, heavy yarn stockings, into which 
 the bottoms of his trousers were tucked, and low cowhide shoes 
 completed his dress. Where were the buckskin hunting shirt and 
 fringed leggings, the bowie-knife and revolver, and the rough sen- 
 tentious conversation interlarded with quaint oaths, which they had 
 supposed characterized the true trapper ? 
 
 If in anything he differed from the farmers of the settlement in 
 appearance, it was in a certain alertness of manner, and in that his 
 language seemed better chosen. Everything he did seemed to ac- 
 complish a result, and a good supper, including plenty of fresh meat, 
 
 ARE YOU MR. PANT 
 
34 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 was ready in less time than it had taken the boys to make a fire. 
 Though little or nothing of the ideal trapper appeared in their host, 
 long before supper had been eaten he had won their entire confi- 
 dence and esteem. When supper was finished, the dishes washed, 
 and all preparations for the night were completed, but not till then, 
 he lit his pipe, threw himself on the bunk, and said, " Now, boys, 
 tell us all about it." 
 
 He was soon in possession of their whole story — how they had 
 started out with a boat -load of provisions, their unfortunate at- 
 tempts at cooking, and finally the accident which had lost them 
 their whole outfit and thrown them upon the charity of their pres- 
 ent host. 
 
 At but one part did he show his sense of the absurdity of the 
 whole performance. Their effort at trapping called up a broad grin 
 of surprise and amusement. The whole story, where the traps were 
 set, how fastened, how baited — all had to be told in answer to his 
 questions. 
 
 " And what did you set them for, boys ?" he at last asked. 
 
 u Set them for?'' replied Harry. "Why, we set them for any- 
 thing that would come along. Isn't that the way you do?" 
 
 " Well, no ; not exactly. Every animal has its peculiar habits, 
 and if you don't set your traps accordingly, you might as well let it 
 alone. You won't get anything. Your answer reminds me of a 
 gentleman who came up here a couple of years ago crazy to shoot a 
 moose. I did the best I could for him, but he was so fidgety and 
 uneasy, always just at the wrong time, that when we came across 
 one he scared it off before we could get a shot. After a while he 
 had lost so many good chances that I was pretty well discouraged. 
 At last we were coming down the river in my boat. I was pad- 
 dling, and he was in the bow — a big double-barrelled shot-gun. first 
 cousin to a cannon, lying across his lap. About half an hour be- 
 fore he had scared a caribou out of a years growth, as usual with- 
 out getting a shot. We were both doing a powerful deal of think- 
 ing, and his everlasting tongue was still for once. 
 
 " We rounded a point, and there was as nice a bull-moose as ever 
 I saw standing mid-leg deep in the water. We had caught it in the 
 
WHERE ON EARTH DID YOU AIM AT THAT MOOSE?" 
 
 35 
 
 very act of crossing the river. There could not be a better chance. 
 He gaped at it as if it was his grandfather's ghost, his mouth wide 
 open, and his eyes bulging right out of his head. A bull-moose is a 
 big animal anyway, and I suppose it looked to him about twenty 
 feet high — at any rate, he acted as if it did. 
 
 " By this time the moose had seen all he wanted to of us, and 
 
 A TRAPPER S CAMP. 
 
36 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 was leaving for the woods, not on the run, but moving off on a 
 quick walk. When I first saw it, I thought it was our meat sure, 
 but now I began to be anxious. I whispered to him, ' Shoot ! why 
 don't you shoot V This waked him. He up with that cannon of 
 his and banged away both barrels, a half a fistful of buckshot in 
 each load, and never touched a hair of the animal, though it wasn't 
 forty yards away. 
 
 " I was disgusted clear through, and mighty mad, though I had 
 no right to be, since he paid me for my time, so it was his loss and 
 not mine. ' Where on earth did you aim at that moose V I asked 
 him, in a way that I guess told him pretty plainly what I thought 
 of the performance. 
 
 " ' Where did I aim V he said. ' Why, I aimed at him all over.' 
 
 " You see that a person who aims all over the universe don't 
 stand much chance of hitting anywhere in particular, and that's 
 just as true of trapping as of hunting. 
 
 "Well, boys, it's getting late for the woods. I guess we had 
 better call it a day, and go to sleep now. To-morrow we'll see what 
 can be done." 
 
*1S**^K^ 
 
 *&r*-y: 
 
 ■ '' ' i r ^n l ilh. lnr X n.-1-i l frr^^T 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 To the Scene of Disaster.— The Cause of the Night Alarm.— Running a Rapid. — 
 Nothing saved from the Wreck.— "What shall we do?" — A Timely Invitation.— 
 The "Timid Mule" again. — A Hint on Trapping. — Poling up the "Big Rip." 
 
 " r pURlS" out ! turn out ! Breakfast will be ready in five minutes !" 
 -*- awoke the bo} r s. 
 
 " Is it morning already ?" exclaimed Harry. " It does not seem 
 as if I had been asleep more than half an hour." 
 
 " We generally call it morning in this country after the sun be- 
 gins to shine. I'd let you sleep till you were sick of it, but it's 
 been raining like shot all night, and the river will be booming. If 
 we are to save any of your stuff we must be quick about it. In the 
 woods you can never pay any attention to comfort as long as work 
 is to be done." 
 
 Breakfast over, they started together for the scene of the dis- 
 aster. 
 
 For some time anxiety as to the result kept the boys silent. At 
 last Dick said, " Mr. Dant, you did not tell us last night what it was 
 that frightened us so when we were camped on the island. Did 
 you ever hear anything like it V 
 
 " I ? Oh yes, plenty of times. I was off last year after caribou 
 
 with a city gentleman. He was a very nice man — a real gentleman ; 
 3* ' 
 
38 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 though, like most city men in the woods, he had more pluck than 
 discretion. He seemed to think a good deal of stuff I should have 
 left in the home-camp absolutely indispensable, so there was nothing 
 to do but take it along. When he saw me making up my pack — and 
 it was a big one, more than any one man ought to lug — he was just 
 eaten up with ambition, and insisted on carrying a pack himself and 
 taking half the load in it. Well, I knew he couldn't do it, for mak- 
 ing your way through these woods where there is no trail is itself 
 pretty hard on a man who is only accustomed to clear and level 
 walking. Then, too, lugging a pack even over the best of travelling 
 is very distressing to a person who isn't used to it. But the two 
 together I knew he couldn't do, though he was a pretty able-bodied 
 man, too. So I had to fool him a little on the packs. I put the 
 light and bulky things into his, and in such a way as to make it look 
 as big and fat as possible, while I shoved all the heavy articles into 
 my pack, making it up to look as much smaller than his as I well 
 could, though that wasn't much. 
 
 " Well, we started off, he with about twenty pounds on his back 
 and his rifle in his hands, while I had about seventy-five pounds 
 and my axe. 
 
 " It came along towards night, and, just as I expected, we 
 hadn't covered much more than half the distance we ought ; so I 
 told him we'd have to camp. It didn't take me long to put up 
 a lean-to, using fir -boughs for the roof, back, and sides, and leav- 
 ing it open towards the fire. While I was doing this, I made 
 him go down to a brook which ran before the camp, wash all over, 
 and put on dry underclothes, for he was wringing wet with per- 
 spiration. You see we have to look out for these city people 
 mighty sharp. They can't stand much exposure, though they think 
 they can; and I knew if he stood about with his wet clothes on 
 he would soon get chilled, and then I might have a sick man on my 
 hands. 
 
 " Well, to make a long story short, I made him up a nice bed of 
 fir-boughs, and after we had had supper and smoked a while, he 
 dropped off asleep. As for myself, I hadn't time to make any bed, 
 but just lay down beside him on the bare ground and wrapped my- 
 
SNOWED IN FOR THE WINTER. 
 
WAS IT A PANTHER? 
 
 41 
 
 self up in a single blanket, which was all I could carry for my own 
 
 use because he had such a lot of stuff. It was a real cold night, and 
 
 some time after midnight I waked pretty near frozen. So I got up 
 
 to mend the fire. My rattling about the logs half awakened him, 
 
 and just then the same noise you heard rang out from the woods 
 
 not a hundred feet from us. You ought to have seen him. I 
 
 thought he would fairly go through the roof, he jumped so ; and for 
 
 ten minutes afterwards his 
 
 nerves were so shaken that 
 
 he was all of a tremble. 
 
 Not that he was a coward, 
 
 but to be waked out of a 
 
 sound sleep in such a wild 
 
 and lonely place, with a 
 
 noise like the screams of 
 
 ten devils ringing in your 
 
 ears, is apt to shake any 
 
 one's nerves, as I suppose 
 
 you yourselves found out. 11 
 
 " Yes, 11 said Dick. " But 
 you haven't told us what it 
 was. Was it a panther?" 
 
 " Oh no, it wasn't any 
 panther. Though I've 
 heard two or three persons 
 say they have seen pan- 
 thers in these woods, I 
 think they must have been 
 mistaken, for after all these 
 
 years I have been knocking around here, summer and winter, I 
 have never seen one nor the trail of one. It seems to me as if I 
 must have come across some sign, particularly on the snow in win- 
 ter, if there were any here." 
 
 " Well, what was it, Mr. Dant ?" said Harry. 
 
 " It was a screech-owl." 
 
 " A screech-ow T l ! Why, it screamed like a locomotive." 
 
 ON THE TRAIL. 
 
42 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " If you had said it screamed like four locomotives," replied the 
 trapper, " you would hardly have exaggerated the effect it produces 
 in these still woods at night. It seems strange that a bird hardly 
 
 bigger than my two fists can 
 let out a howl the size of a 
 good big house. But such is 
 the fact. If an elephant could 
 make here in these woods a 
 noise as loud in proportion to 
 its size as a screech-owl can, 
 it would pretty near make the 
 windows rattle in New York 
 City. 
 
 " But here we are at the 
 river. You wait a few min- 
 utes while I get my boat. I 
 won't be gone long." 
 
 He was as good as his 
 word, and soon returned with 
 the boat, in which all em- 
 barked and pushed off from 
 the bank. It took but a short 
 time with the aid of the cur- 
 rent to reach the head of the 
 " Big Kip," the scene of their disaster. As the trapper said would 
 be the case, the river had risen considerably, and the eyes of the 
 boys rested on a very wild piece of water. After their late expe- 
 rience, the} T looked upon it with great respect. 
 
 " Can't we help you carry the boat around ?" said Harry. 
 " Carry the boat around ! What for ? Oh no ! There is no 
 trouble in running that rapid. The water itself shows where to 
 go. Do you see that smooth tongue running into the rough water \ 
 That's where the best of it is. Nature generally tells what to 
 do if you can only understand her. If I were a stranger here I 
 might drop the boat down on a pole, as we call it ; that is, use my 
 pole as a brake and let her down slowly. But I know this place 
 
 A SCREECH-OWL. 
 
AT THE SCENE OF THE WRECK. 
 
 43 
 
 like a book, and if you will only sit perfectly still, no matter how 
 dangerous it may look, we will go through all right." 
 
 But little was saved from the boys' wreck. Their boat was 
 found, an old and rotten one disguised with a fresh coat of paint, but 
 stove and ruined beyond repair. Harry's pantaloons were, however, 
 recovered, hung by the suspenders to a snag, the legs swinging and 
 kicking about in the fierce current as though endowed with life. 
 How Harry wished he had not placed his money for safe keeping 
 in his valise, which, well weighted with ammunition, now r< 
 on the bottom of the deep pool at the foot of the rapid. 
 
 ., : X :;i': ; v A 
 
 ABOVE THE FORKS. 
 
 At last and with reluctance the boys were forced to admit that 
 no further salvage could be looked for. So this was to be the 
 outcome of the expedition they had planned so long and with such 
 
44 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 care and hope. All preceding inconvenience and discomfort was 
 forgotten and overshadowed by the recollection of the great disas- 
 ter, which had brought ruin upon them in an instant and beyond 
 the possibility of repair. 
 
 Nor was this all. As they gazed at one another with blank 
 faces and quivering lips, the magnitude of their misfortune and its 
 consequences seemed to grow with every moment's thought. The 
 past, disastrous as it was, shrank into insignificance before the aw- 
 ful problem of the future. Many miles intervened between them 
 and the nearest settlement, miles of trackless swamp and forest, 
 a labyrinth in which no friendly sign would direct their way ; in 
 which to wander was to be lost, and in which to be lost was to 
 perish miserably. And if they should, despite this, reach the settle 
 ment, they were without food, money, or even clothing sufficient foi 
 the greater distance which would still separate them from home. 
 
 The keen eye of the trapper read their troubled faces as the 
 scholar reads an open book, and his kind heart stirred within him. 
 
 '• There, boys, it's no use crying over spilled^milk. What's done 
 is done, and can't be helped. What is to be done is now the thing 
 for us to wrestle with." 
 
 " But what can we do, Mr. Dant V replied Harry. " How far is 
 it to the settlement through the woods, and how are we to find 
 our way '." 
 
 " Well, it might be fifty miles and it might be any distance, ac- 
 cording to the way you happened to take to get there. The river 
 knows the way, and if you could follow it and stick to it, of course 
 you would come to the settlement at last. But you can't. You 
 would meet dozens of swamps and bog-holes which you couldn't 
 cross, and in trying to work round them you would be certain, soon- 
 er or later, to miss your reckoning and get lost ; and if you once did 
 get lost, you might wander through these woods till you dropped, 
 and never meet a living soul. No, no ; I couldn't think of letting 
 you try it, for there would be ten chances of its costing you your 
 lives to one of your pulling through. If you must go down to the 
 settlement, there's nothing for me to do but to go with you. When 
 I heard the rain last night, I felt pretty sure we would save little of 
 
A TIMELY INVITATION. 
 
 45 
 
 your stuff, so I have been thinking things over some. I suppose you 
 hardly want to go right home without a thing to show for your trip, 
 except that you went all to pieces at its very beginning ?" 
 
 " No, we don't," said Dick. 
 
 " Well, October is one of the best months we have in the woods. 
 This good weather may hold for two weeks or more. Suppose you 
 come back and 
 put in the time | 
 with me, till the I 
 weather shows 
 signs of break- 1 
 ing. Then I can 
 take you down j 
 to the settle- J 
 ment. I've got I 
 to go there any- 1 
 way before I am 8 
 snowed in for 
 the winter, and 
 I might as well 
 go then as any 
 time. Besides, 
 the river is pret- 
 ty w T ell up now. 
 
 If this good weather holds, it will be much 
 lower in a week or so. Then we may be 
 able to find your guns and other heavy 
 things that would sink quickly. For all 
 these reasons I think you had better hang 
 on with me for a while." 
 
 " It's very good of you, Mr. Dant, but 
 we ought not to do it unless you will let 
 
 us make some return for your time and trouble and for our board," 
 said Dick. 
 
 " I asked you, boys, for the sake of your company, and not to 
 make anything out of you. What little store goods you will eat 
 
 MILES OF SWAMP AND TRACK- 
 LESS FOREST. 
 
46 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 won't hurt me much, I guess. The truth is, there isn't anything 
 else for you to do, so you might just as well make up your minds 
 to it. You can be sure of a hearty welcome." 
 
 " We can't pay Mr. Dant for his kindness, Dick," said Harry, 
 u that's sure. But our fathers are neither poor nor mean men. I 
 feel sure they will repay him for any expense his generosity puts 
 him to, if he will only wait till we can get home and tell them 
 about it." 
 
 " There is no doubt about that, Harry, and they will thank him 
 too. But it seems a little cool for us to drop down, as it were out 
 of the sky, upon an entire stranger, and throw ourselves on his 
 hands for board and lodging like a couple of tramps, particularly 
 when it will cost him so much time and trouble to make good from 
 the settlement the inroads we shall make on his winter s stock of 
 provisions. " 
 
 " You may have been strangers yesterday, boys, but you are not 
 now," replied the trapper ; " and if I am not very much out, we will 
 be friends, and pretty warm friends, too, before many days have 
 passed. You may take it any way to suit yourselves. If you 
 choose to, and can repay me, well and good. If you can't, well and 
 good too. You will be quite welcome either way — that you may 
 be sure of. So let's consider the matter settled, take up your traps, 
 and get back to camp." 
 
 As they were going to the traps, Harry said, "I wish I could 
 get such a chance at a moose as that gentleman had you told us 
 about last night. I don't think I would make such a fool of 
 myself." 
 
 " H'm ! Well, perhaps not ; but I would not be too sure of it. 
 You've seen plenty of countrymen in the city gaping in the store- 
 windows and at the crowd, I suppose, and perhaps you've seen 
 landsmen at sea for the first time. Every man has some place in 
 the world in which he is good for something, and there are other 
 places where he isn't worth a cent. Really I suppose we ought not 
 to laugh as we do at the greenhorns who come up here, though the 
 things they do and don't do are wonderful to see. I suppose the 
 laugh would be on the other side if they had us in a city." 
 
A HINT ABOUT TRAPPING. 
 
 49 
 
 " I am not sure but what we had nearly as good a chance on 
 our way up," said Dick ; " and if we did, we didn't distinguish our- 
 selves much more than that gentleman.'" 
 
 " How was that ?" and soon the trapper had the whole story of 
 the timid mule. 
 
 " Well, boys, that was a cow-moose, sure enough. You're not 
 the first I have known to make the same mistake." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Dant, do you suppose it is possible for us to get 
 another chance at a moose ? I should so like to have something 
 to talk about besides our shipwreck when we get home," said 
 Harry. 
 
 " I don't know, I'm sure ; but if you will do just what I tell you, 
 
 tUNNING A 
 
 and work hard, I will see what can be done. Now, where are the 
 traps ?" 
 
 They came to one. There it lay, bare and in plain sight, chained 
 fast to a thick root, the piece of pork still tied to the trencher. 
 Nothing had disturbed it. It was with no great pleasure that the 
 boys saw the look of amusement that spread over the trapper's face 
 as he stopped before it. 
 
 " Isn't that the way you do it, Mr. Dant ?" said Dick. 
 
 " Well, scarcely. It's humane, perhaps, to try to catch your ani- 
 mals by the head, and so kill them quick. But there is one trouble 
 about that way of setting a trap. No animal will go near it. 
 4 
 
50 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 Good trappers, except for sable and fisher, seldom use bait at all ; 
 and when they do they don't put it on the trap, but beyond it, and 
 arrange things so that the animal must step into the trap to get the 
 bait. The trap they cover out of sight. I'll show you something 
 about it to-morrow." 
 
 The traps were all gathered, and brought to the boat, which had 
 been left beside the bank at the foot of the rapid. 
 
 " Now, boys, you walk around to the head of the rapid, and I 
 will pole the boat up and take you in there," said the trapper. 
 
 " You don't mean to say you can force a boat up such an awful 
 current as this ! Why, it's right uphill !" said Dick. 
 
 kv That's what I thought of doing. So long as there are no 
 regular up and down falls, and the water isn't too deep to get bot- 
 tom readily with a pole, a boat can be made to do almost anything ; 
 that is, if the man who handles it knows his business." 
 
 The boys landed, and made their way through the bushes 
 which bordered the stream to a point where a good view could be 
 had of the rapid. There they stopped by common consent to wit- 
 ness the struggle, not without some lurking expectation of seeing 
 a repetition of their own mishap. The trapper pushed from the 
 bank and paddled to the foot of the quick water. Then, pole in 
 hand, he rose to his feet, standing near the stern of the boat. A 
 quick and strong push forced it into the turmoil. The boys 
 could not but admire the alert glance, the firm -set mouth, and 
 the unstudied grace of his poise as he stood erect in that cockle- 
 shell of a boat amid the foaming water — a position either of them 
 would have been reluctant to take and maintain even on the placid 
 pool. The water boiled up under the bow of the boat and hissed 
 by its side as it hung there, in appearance as motionless as any of 
 the rocks over which the torrent foamed. Then the trapper threw 
 his weight upon the pole, and the boat began to move. Up, up, 
 inch by inch, it seemed to the boys fairly to climb the raging 
 slope ; slowly, it is true, but still to climb. Then like lightning the 
 pole was withdrawn and a fresh hold was taken on the bottom, and 
 again the reluctant boat began to mount. Sometimes it would 
 seem to the boys to hang motionless amid a smother of foam, some- 
 
POLING UP THE 'BIG KIP." 
 
 51 
 
 times to lose ground, as though the forces of the current were about 
 to triumph, or had triumphed, over the power of the man ; but 
 these were moments of but apparent uncertainty and of short du- 
 ration. At no time more than when he paused or dropped back 
 was the trapper a surer master of the situation. He but adjusted 
 the bow to a change of the direction of advance, and when the 
 change was made to his satisfaction the boat began again to mount 
 upward, until at last it floated safely in the more placid water above 
 and the rapid was overcome. 
 
<2kJm 
 
 ?*TflP?£ 
 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Preparing for a Tramp. — Laying out a Sable-line. — Trapping Sable and Fisher. 
 
 ANOTHER day dawned after another night of that sweet and 
 - dreamless sleep which healthful bodily fatigue alone insures. 
 Indeed. " Tumble out, boys ! tumble out ! Breakfast will be ready 
 in live minutes !" again aroused them to consciousness. 
 
 During breakfast the trapper stated his plans for the day. " To- 
 d;iy. boys, we will lay out a new sable-line to the south-west, and 
 scatter the proper number of traps along it, all ready to set when 
 the time comes. 
 
 " This will take us to the West Branch, which comes into the 
 main river at the Forks. We will follow it up in a northerly direc- 
 tion a couple of miles, dropping a mink-trap here and there, when 
 we will strike an old sable-line of mine, which we will follow back 
 through the woods to camp, and look out for that line, too. That's 
 the way we always lay out our trapping lines, for then we can go 
 out in the morning in one direction and return at night in another, 
 always over fresh ground ; while the hope of finding something 
 worth while in the next trap gives a friendly boost over the wind- 
 falls and through the thickets as the day draws on, and makes the 
 
N THE Wool is 
 
PREPARING FOR A TRAMP. 55 
 
 path seem easy and the way short. If you are willing to help we 
 can easily do it in a clay, but we must each take a back-load." 
 
 The boys were not only willing to be of any service they could, 
 but were full of curiosity to see how trapping was done by a master 
 of the art, as Dant unquestionably was. He produced two well- 
 worn leather knapsacks and a pack-basket, and while loading them 
 explained to the boys what he was doing and why he did it. 
 
 "In travelling through the woods nothing is meaner than hand- 
 bundles. At least one hand is needed to keep the bushes out of 
 your face and to help you over and under the windfalls, which, as 
 you have already found out, must be passed in some way every few 
 rods. So a woodsman carries all that he has to carry, as far as he 
 can, in a pack on his back. 
 
 " For this purpose one of these leather knapsacks is the best 
 thing — not those flimsy shams of canvas or shoddy leather they sell 
 in the cities, that won't stand water, and are so hung to their narrow 
 shoulder-straps that they pretty near cut a man's arms off before 
 half a day's travel is over. They are good for nothing. A pack- 
 basket is pretty fair, but not as good as a knapsack, because it doesn't 
 sit so close to the back and it's harder to keep your balance. If you 
 stumble and slip with a knapsack, it sticks to you, and you can catch 
 yourself again ; but if with a pack-basket, it swings off to one side 
 and throws you more out of balance than you were before. 
 
 " Now, there is just as much art in making up a pack as there is 
 in putting a saddle on a horse so that it will ride easy and not gall 
 him. 
 
 " You see, I first fold this single blanket and put it inside so that 
 it will form a back-cushion. 
 
 " Now I pile in the traps, making them pack as long and thin as 
 I can, and turning the sharp corners away from the back-cushion as 
 much as possible. Traps are a mean kind of a back-load, do what 
 you will, for they will not stay in good shape no matter how well 
 they are packed at the start ; and they are all hard ends, uncom- 
 monly fond of hunting out and burrowing in the tender places in a 
 fellow's back. 
 
 " Now I will put some tea and meat and bread in my pack, and 
 
56 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 tie a tea-pail on the outside of it, and each of us must take one tin 
 cup. There's nothing like tea in the woods in a cold climate. It's 
 better than coffee or any other kind of drink. Woodsmen use al- 
 most nothing else in all such countries the world over, I have been 
 told. But of all the drinks that are brought into these woods, 
 liquor is the worst. Nothing will play a man out so quick. When 
 within twenty minutes or so of camp, when very much exhausted, 
 or after camp is reached, when a fire must be built and it's very 
 cold, it sometimes may do good ; but even then one tin of hot tea is 
 worth a gallon of it. This is one of the greatest and commonest 
 mistakes city people make up here. Sometimes half the weight of 
 their stuff will be in bottles of whiskey, or something of that kind. 
 A person who spends winter after winter prowling about these woods, 
 as I have done, where the snow gets five and six feet deep on a level, 
 and the thermometer remains below zero for days, ought to know 
 something about this kind of thing. When hardship has been en- 
 dured and is over, liquor may at times be of some use, but while 
 hardship is being endured it is clear poison. 
 
 " You had better leave your outer shirts here in camp, your un- 
 dershirts will soon be wet through under the pack with perspira- 
 tion, and you will want your outer shirts dry to put on when we 
 get back. You must, however, take your coats, for though while 
 travelling you will be warm enough, when you stop to rest and 
 take off your packs you will be chilled through unless you have 
 something warm to put on. 
 
 " You should take turns at the pack-basket, and the one that car- 
 ries the knapsack must carry the rifle too. I have put about fifty 
 pounds in my pack, and I must take my axe besides. Your packs 
 will weigh about twenty-five pounds apiece. 
 
 " Now everything is ready. Let's back our loads and be off." 
 
 " Is the rifle loaded, Mr. Dant P asked Harry, to whom it and 
 the knapsack had fallen. 
 
 " No, and it don't need to be now. It's a repeating rifle. The 
 magazine is full, and it won't take a second to put a cartridge in 
 the barrel if we want to shoot. We have a rule never to carry a 
 cartridge in the barrel of a rifle when in the woods, unless we are 
 
SPOTTING A LINE. 
 
 alone, or unless the man who carries it leads the way. " Travel- 
 ling through the woods is rough work, and every one gets more 
 or less falls. So there is only one safe rule, and that is to keep 
 your rifle-barrel empty as long as any one is ahead of you." 
 
 The trapper led the 
 way through the forest, 
 every fifteen or twenty 
 yards chopping a piece 
 out of each side of some 
 tree so that it could be 
 seen from either direction. 
 
 " That we call w spot- 
 ting a line,' " he said. 
 
 A FOREST HIGHWAY. 
 
58 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " Then, when we have set our traps, each of these spots serves as 
 a guidepost when visiting them. You see, we are bound uphill. 
 This is to be a sable-line, and we trap those animals on the hard 
 wood ridges. You'll soon get more open travelling and fewer wind- 
 falls," he continued, as he saw that the boys were becoming red in 
 the face and out of breath. 
 
 Every little while he would strike some large tree with the butt 
 of his axe and pass on. The boys noticed it, but were too breath- 
 less to ask why. Suddenly he stopped after so striking a tree, and 
 said, " Off packs ; we'll take a rest." 
 
 He then fell to chopping at the tree about four or five feet from 
 the ground. The boys watched him with admiration. He swung 
 the keen axe as though it were a feather, every blow falling exactly 
 in the cut left by its predecessor. At first this did not seem to pro- 
 duce much effect. Then a great chunk of wood sprang out from 
 where the axe had been applied, disclosing a hollow in the trunk 
 of the tree. 
 
 " Are you going to cut that tree down, Mr. Dant ?" asked Dick. 
 
 " Oh no, I am making a place for a trap. If the trap is not 
 housed in some way, the snow will soon cover it so that it will not 
 spring. Besides, a baited trap must be set so that the animal can 
 get at the trap by only one opening, and by going over the trap. 
 You see, I cut the door high enough to be above the snow, and on 
 the side opposite that from which the snow is likely to drift. Now 
 we have cut enough. Let's fill the hole below the opening to form 
 a floor, and put a trap in there." 
 
 This was soon done. The packs were resumed, and they moved 
 on. The boys, now fully rested, were loaded with questions. 
 
 " I thought the sable was a Russian animal, Mr. Dant," said 
 Harry. 
 
 " So it is. Our animal is the pine-marten, but it goes here by 
 the name of sable." 
 
 " What does it look like ?" continued Harry. 
 
 " It depends much on the season of the year. All wild animals 
 at the approach of winter change their clothes, just as you do ; and, 
 like yours, their summer clothes are not only thinner, but often of a 
 
A WEASEL AND ITS VICTIM. 
 
SETTING A SABLE-TRAP. 61 
 
 different color from their winter dress. A full-grown sable is about 
 the size of a three-quarter-grown cat, though its legs are shorter and 
 its neck longer, like all of the weasel kind of animals. In the sum- 
 mer a sable looks very much as a gray cat would look if it had 
 crawled through the pipe of a coal-stove. In the winter the best of 
 them are very much like a red fox in color. Such a skin is worth 
 about two dollars. I am told the greater part of them are sent to 
 Armenia. They are a tree-climbing animal, and live on mice, squir- 
 rels, and small birds." 
 
 " Are they hard to trap V asked Dick. 
 
 " No, not very, if you know how. But this seems a pretty 
 likely place. Suppose we take another rest here." 
 
 The trapper sounded the trees near by, but none were found to 
 be hollow. 
 
 " As we can't find a hollow tree, we'll have to build here." 
 
 Never had the boys so thoroughly realized how utterly unfit 
 they were to live in the woods on their own resources as when 
 they saw in what a surprisingly short time the trapper felled a 
 soft-wood tree of some size, cut a piece off its butt, split it into 
 boards, and made a little house with sides, back, and roof, at the 
 foot of a large tree. 
 
 " You see your saw wouldn't be good for much at this work, 
 Harry," said Dick. 
 
 " Yes, I see that," replied Harry. " But would it take too much 
 time, Mr. Dant, to show us how you set the trap ?" 
 
 " Time or no time I'll show you any how. You see, I first cut 
 this little pointed twig and stick it upright in the back part of the 
 house. On this I skewer my bait. Any piece of fish or meat will 
 do. You know I told you the sable was one of the few animals we 
 trap with bait. 
 
 " The next thing is to mix the sweet and the bitter together, 
 just like tea and sugar, so that the animal can't take one without 
 getting the other. So by the little house we shut off all approach 
 to the trap except from one direction — that is, through the door ; 
 and that we fortify to the best of our ability. 
 
 " Having placed the bait near the back side of the house, we 
 
62 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 next set the trap thus, between the door and the bait, so that the 
 animal can't reach the bait except over the trap. Next I go to 
 some old log or stump and get a piece of rotten wood, which I 
 crumble over the set trap until it is just buried out of sight. But 
 the trencher of the trap, on which the animal must step to spring 
 it, is quite small. We must make the animal put his foot on the 
 trencher, or we might better have given him the bait and left the 
 trap at home, since it would be less trouble and just about as profit- 
 able. So I cut two twigs, point their ends, bend them, and place 
 one before and one behind the trap, so as to form arches too high 
 for a sable to step over and too low for him to crawl under. This 
 gives the trap four chances at him, one when he leaps the first arch, 
 and one when he prepares to leap the second arch on his way in. 
 and the same again on his way out. A sable that escapes must 
 have an uncommon run of luck. Trapping is full of little tricks 
 of that kind, and the trapper who does not know and practise them 
 stands a mighty poor show. 
 
 " Another rule in trapping is that the trap must not be chained 
 up solid, as you did your traps, or the animal is apt to leave only a 
 foot for the trapper's share, and cany off its fur on three legs for 
 its own. If a trap is chained up solid, then nothing must be within 
 reach that the animal can get such hold of so that it can pull 
 against the trap with all its strength. All small trees and bushes 
 in reach must be cleared away, or the trap must be fastened to a 
 yielding resistance, just as large fish are caught with a light but 
 limber rod. With valuable animals the trap is generally fastened 
 to a spring-pole, which snatches them up in the air and clear of the 
 ground at the first jump they make when the trap nips them. If 
 the animal is large, such as a bear or a lynx, the trap is fastened to 
 one end of a loose log of wood, called a l clog.' The animal ex- 
 hausts his first vigor in turning double somersets over the clog 
 and iu fighting it. When sick of that amusement it walks off, tow- 
 ing the clog, and leaving a plain trail for the trapper to follow. 
 The clog fouls something every few steps, and when at last it gets 
 firmly lodged between some roots or in a windfall, the animal's 
 strength is so exhausted that it can no longer break loose. 
 
A LECTURE ON TRAPPING. 
 
 lio 
 
 
 m£. 
 
 " There, I 
 guess I've told f» 
 
 you enough to show you 
 that inspiration don't count 
 for much in trapping, and that 
 it must be learned, just like 
 any other business.' , 
 
 Their next halt was where the 
 wind had overthrown a large hol- 
 low tree, breaking off the trunk five 
 
 -***; 
 
 A SPKING-POLE. 
 
64 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 or six feet above the ground, and leaving it still hanging to the 
 stump. In this hollow trunk a trap was left, and with hardly a 
 pause they resumed their way. 
 
 About a quarter of a mile farther on the trapper again called 
 a halt. " Take off your packs and put on your coats," he said. 
 " This place ought to be a mighty good one for sable, and it 
 
 ought to yield me a fisher 
 
 f- ~~ ' ^^^^^^^K s or tw<> tmrm o the season. 
 
 "'-^^i^fflSI^Pl ^ W ^ ta ^ e me ( l u ^ e a ^' 
 tie time to fix up as I want 
 
 to." 
 
 As he spoke he attacked 
 a fir-tree about a foot and 
 a half in diameter with his 
 axe, and soon brought it 
 crashing down. He then 
 split from one side of the 
 stump, which projected 
 about five feet above the 
 ground, a board three feet 
 long. He next proceeded 
 to chop into the top of the 
 stump in such a way as to 
 form a box about a foot 
 high — or rather three sides 
 of a box, the bottom or floor, 
 one side, and a back. He 
 then nailed the board he had 
 first split off in its original 
 position, and the box was complete, all except the top or roof. A 
 couple of pieces split from the prostrate trunk of the tree made 
 that, and the house was complete. 
 
 " There," said the trapper, regarding his work with some satis- 
 faction, "that's the way a sable-trap ought to be set. You have 
 now seen all the ways we use for sable in this country. The hollow 
 tree is very good, but you remember that we had to fill the hollow 
 
 A MOUNTAIN BROOK. 
 
WW: 
 
TRAPPING FISHER. 67 
 
 from the ground up to a level with the door of the house, to make 
 a floor for the trap to lie on. But every sable that is trapped there 
 will root out all the stuff we have put in, so that we will have to 
 fill it again every time the trap is reset. The hollow-tree trunk is 
 first-rate, but you can't find them very often where you want them. 
 The cubby -house built of splits on the ground is the easiest way, but 
 it is always being snowed up, so that in the end it catches less and 
 gives more trouble than any of the others. This last takes more 
 time in the beginning, but it pays altogether the best in the end, for 
 once finished, it is done for good. 
 
 " I will now fix the trap as though for a fisher, as indeed every 
 trap on a sable-line ought to be fixed, for they are great chaps to 
 follow up a sable-line and steal the bait, and to eat up such sable as 
 may have been already caught as well. But on a new line like this 
 we seldom have time beforehand to do just what we would like to 
 do. So, ordinarily we just drive the gump-wedge into the tree where 
 the trap is placed, and let it go at that." 
 
 « The what V asked Dick. 
 
 " The gump-wedge. You see that there is an iron ring and also 
 an iron wedge on the loose end of the chains attached to these small- 
 sized traps. We call that wedge a ' gump-wedge,' and by it, when 
 we wish to do so, nail the chain fast to the tree. But now I propose 
 to use the ring to fasten the chain and trap, for we are planning for 
 a fisher as well as sable ; and since it is a ten-dollar instead of a two- 
 dollar prize, it requires a little more consideration." 
 
 The trapper then proceeded to cut down every bush and small 
 tree within ten feet of where his trap was to be, except one tough 
 bush. He next cut a pole about five feet long, split one end, put 
 the ring at the end of the trap-chain over the split end of the pole, 
 and drove a wedge into the split, thus making that end of the pole 
 so large that the ring could no longer be pulled off. He then tied 
 the other end of the pole to the bush. 
 
 " There's quite a lot of philosophy in that set," he said to the 
 boys. "Along comes Mr. Fisher prowling about where he has no 
 business, and gets nipped by the trap. Instantly the air is full of 
 chains, traps, and fur, flying about like a pinwheel. When he gets 
 
68 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 sick of that, he begins to pull and drag. But he is just like a trout 
 on a fly-rod. The bush gives with, and recovers itself from, even- 
 strain he makes. He hasn't half a chance to put out his strength. 
 He can't gnaw the pole off, because it's too thick for his kind of 
 teeth. He hasn't a carpenter-shop in his mouth, like a beaver. At 
 all events he can gnaw the bush off, or at least the string which ties 
 the pole to the bush. Checkmated again; the pole is so much longer 
 than the chain of the trap that he cannot reach the bush. There is 
 but one thing for that fisher to do, and that is to practise resigna- 
 tion, for his day has come. Still, if I find a fisher is working on 
 one of my lines, I generally rig a spring-pole, and attach the trap- 
 chain to that. Then the first jump the fisher makes after the trap 
 snaps him, releases the spring-pole and snatches Mr. Fisher up in 
 the air, to dangle there until it dies or the trapper comes along and 
 clubs it." 
 
 " How often do you visit your traps, Mr. Dant ?" 
 
 " I try to look at them once a week. Trappers generally man- 
 age it this way up here. They start from the home-camp along one 
 of their lines at daybreak Monday morning, and follow it till even- 
 ing, when they camp. The next morning they are off again over a 
 continuation of the line till evening, when they camp again — and so 
 on. The line is like a very irregular loop, having its beginning and 
 end at the home-camp, and long enough to take from daybreak on 
 Monday until Saturday evening to go over it and attend to the traps." 
 
 " Do you mean to say, Mr. Dant," asked Dick, " that if an ani- 
 mal gets into one of your traps say an hour after you have left it, 
 that it has to stay there a week before you come back again to take 
 it out?" 
 
 " That's about the size of it. It's awful tough medicine for the 
 fur-bearing animals. I've often thought if the ladies who wear the 
 furs we trap only knew the agonies the poor animals who grew 
 them had suffered, there would soon be an end to our business. If 
 the most of those we trap were not themselves such cruel, blood- 
 thirsty creatures, I don't know as I could have much heart in trap- 
 ping. Most of them only get what they give to every living thing 
 they come across that they can master." 
 
DESCRIPTION OF A FISHER. 
 
 69 
 
 " What is a fisher, Mr. Dant ?" asked Harry. 
 
 " A fisher is about the size of a full-grown cat, but with the long 
 neck, short legs, and thin body of all the weasel family of animals. 
 Most people call them black, though really the fur is nearly black 
 at the root and gray at the tip. The older they are the grayer 
 they become. I have seen some almost white on the head and 
 shoulders. Sometimes they have a white patch or stripe under the 
 chin, and sometimes not. It has a long, rather bushy tail. It's a 
 mighty enterprising creature, and as full of fight as an egg is full of 
 meat. When you walk up to one in a trap, to pay your respects 
 with a club, it'll show more teeth and claws than would fit out a 
 harrow; and you want to keep clear of them too, for it's no 
 respecter of persons. It's a tree-climber, and lives on any bird or 
 small animal it can catch. Some people call it the ' black cat.' Why 
 it is called a fisher, beats me, for it never fishes, like the otter or 
 mink, or eats fish, as far as I know. It's as valuable fur as we get 
 up here. When I catch a fisher I catch a good ten-dollar bill at 
 the same time. They are not very plenty — I mean the fisher are 
 not, though perhaps I might, with equal truth, say the same of the 
 ten-dollar bills to be made by trapping." 
 
 While this conversation was in progress the packs had been re- 
 sumed, and soon afterwards the stream, which had been their first 
 objective, was reached. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Lunch at the Little River. — Camp-fires in the Woods. — The Caribou. — Lost. — How 
 a Woodsman finds his Way in the Forest.— A Deer-road and a Trail. 
 
 A TURBULENT mountain 
 
 z\ 
 
 stream, from eighty to one 
 
 hundred feet wide, overshad- 
 owed with lofty spruce-trees, 
 now lay before them. One 
 gigantic pine, the growth of 
 centuries, towered far above 
 the surrounding forest, sup- 
 porting in its blasted top 
 an enormous fish - hawk's 
 nest. Another pine, equal 
 in size and age, over- 
 thrown by some recent 
 storm, lay across the 
 stream, bridging it from 
 side to side. In every 
 direction the woods were 
 comparatively free from 
 underbrush, permitting an 
 unusual extent of view. 
 The music of the running 
 water, the murmur of the 
 wind through the tree-tops, 
 the pure and bracing air, 
 their perfect health and vig- 
 or and relief from the cruel 
 anxiety of the last two days, 
 
AT THE LITTLE RIVER. 
 
 71 
 
 A TURBULENT MOUNTAIN STREAM. 
 
 all combined to make the 
 boys think it one of the 
 most beautiful spots they 
 had ever seen. Nor were 
 they far wrong. 
 
 Upon the bank of the stream the trapper paused, threw off his 
 pack, and said, 
 
 " We may as well lunch here, boys, as our work is now about 
 half done." 
 
 With a vivid recollection of their own efforts to prepare a meal 
 
72 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 in the open air, even with the help of a stove, the boys watched the 
 trapper, half expecting to see him experience at least some of the 
 difficulties they had met. 
 
 But not so. He pulled a sheet of bark from a neighboring white 
 birch tree, gathered some pine bark from a rotting old stump, and 
 had a fire in less than three minutes. He then cut a green pole 
 about ten feet long, thrust its butt under a root so that the smaller 
 end projected over the fire, and hung on it his tea-pail, filled with 
 water. Then he cut some long green sticks and skewered his meat 
 on them. The pine bark had burned to red-hot coals by the time 
 the water was boiling. He then removed the pail, put in his tea 
 to steep, and giving each of the boys a stick furnished with a piece 
 of meat, showed them how to broil it. In less than twenty min- 
 utes after they had halted they were eating. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Dant, did you build your fire out here on the stones, 
 instead of in the woods, where fuel and poles were so much 
 handier?" asked Dick. 
 
 " Have you ever seen a forest on fire, or a forest before and 
 after it has been burned over? If you had you would hardly ask 
 me. A broken leg would not be as great a misfortune to me as to 
 have a fire run through these woods. The game would be driven 
 away for many years, and all the fur-bearing animals, except those 
 living in the water, would be destroyed. Nothing can be more 
 lovely than this forest seems to me. Every day and at every step I 
 notice something new and beautiful. It is my home. A fire would 
 change it into a desert. Every tree would be blasted, and instead 
 of the grand forest we now see, a forest of naked trunks like tele- 
 graph-poles would take its place. Even the very ground would be 
 burned away, until nothing but rocks, gravel, and ashes would be 
 left. The surface earth in the woods is nothing but old wood and 
 leaves, and it will smoulder and burn like peat. So we never build 
 a fire on it, if we can help it, unless the ground is quite wet. If we 
 have to, we drench the fire and surrounding ground well with 
 water before we leave." 
 
 " I begin to think you have a reason for almost everything you 
 do," said Harry. " Perhaps there was a reason why you took all 
 
A CARIBOU. 75 
 
 the trouble to get that pine bark for the fire instead of the dry 
 wood almost under your hand." 
 
 " Oh yes, there was a reason for that. Pine bark blazes for a 
 little while only, and then turns to hot coals free from smoke. It 
 gives a quicker and hotter fire than wood, and a much better one 
 to cook meat over. I don't know that I ever thought of it be- 
 fore, but this life of mine up here seems to be a very free and in- 
 dependent life. I seem to be absolutely my own master. In the 
 cities they have laws, and a policeman on almost every corner to 
 make people obey them. No law of man reaches up here in the 
 wilderness. In the city a man has a thousand and one engage- 
 ments and obligations which force him to do certain things day 
 after clay whether he likes it or not. I can go north, south, east or 
 west, at any time, night or day, that I please. But really, come to 
 think of it, I don't see that I am so much more free after all. In 
 the settlements a man may break the law and not be found out, 
 or if found out he may not be caught. But up here there are 
 laws in force from which there is no escape or concealment, obe- 
 dience to which is the price of life itself. I mean the laws of 
 nature. Up here, dependent entirely on myself, if I wilfully or 
 ignorantly violate these laws, I cannot shelter myself behind some 
 other person who has obeyed them. If I omit to do the right 
 thing at the right time, or do the wrong thing at any time, my 
 own skin must pay for it. You are not far out in saying I have 
 a reason for almost everything I do ; and the reason is, that I 
 have learned by experience what I must do. Life in the woods 
 requires its knowledge and skill just as it requires knowledge and 
 skill to live in the settlements and make steam-engines. The prin- 
 cipal difference is that in the one case ignorance would run a man 
 in debt and make him fail in business, while in the other it might 
 cost him his life." 
 
 Suddenly the trapper paused, listened for a moment, and then 
 whispered, " Grab the rifle and hide behind these bushes. Be 
 quick, but be quiet about it. I hear a caribou coming." 
 
 The boys did as they were told, though they could not see or 
 hear an indication that there was an animal within forty miles of 
 
76 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 them. Soon they heard a branch snap, and then another. Then 
 there was a pause. 
 
 u There, don't } t ou see him ?" whispered the trapper. 
 
 " No," replied Harry, who had the rifle ; " where?" 
 
 " Eight by that spruce near the little white birch. You've got 
 to shoot quick. He sees the fire and won't stand long." 
 
 In vain Harry strained his eyes. Just as he was about to pass 
 the rifle to the trapper and beg him to fire, the animal gave a 
 bound and vanished. For some moments the astonished boys 
 could hear it crashing through the woods. Then the sound died 
 away, and their astonishment gave place to a keen sense of morti 
 fication. 
 
 " Couldn't you see him ?" asked the trapper. ik He was in plain 
 sight." 
 
 " Yes," said Harry, " I saw him well enough all the time ; but I 
 thought it was a stump till it moved. It didn't look like a deer 
 at all." 
 
 " You mean it didn't look like the deer in the picture-books, I 
 suppose. Animals in the woods never do. All you ever see is a 
 patch of color differing very little from surrounding objects ; that is, 
 unless the animal is in motion. There, you need not feel so bad 
 about it. Nine people out of ten make the same mistake at first. 
 We have plenty of meat. Still, I should have liked you to have 
 that head to take home. It was a nice one." 
 
 Seeing that his reassurance did little to soften the disappoint- 
 ment, the trapper changed the subject with that kindly tact which 
 was one of his most marked characteristics. 
 
 "By-the-way, boys, you don't know you are lost, do you? In 
 what direction does camp lie ?" 
 
 " So long as we have found you, we can't be lost very much," 
 replied Dick. Then he thought for a few moments, and pointed 
 towards where he thought the camp was. 
 
 " What ?" exclaimed Harry. " That isn't the way. It lies right 
 over there in line with that big pine-tree ;" and quite a warm dis- 
 pute arose between them. Each cast an eye from time to time at 
 the trapper, hoping to gain some hint as to who was right from 
 
WHERE DOES CAMP LIE? 79 
 
 his face. But he did nothing but listen, smoke, and laugh. At last 
 they appealed to him to decide between them. 
 
 " You will be woodsmen one of these days, boys, if you keep at 
 it, but you still have something to learn. You, Harry, would have 
 taken a bee-line for the settlement. You, Dick, would have gone 
 over the boundary into Canada. The camp lies in neither place, 
 but over there, just about half-way between. 1 ' 
 
 The boys were more than astonished to find themselves so far 
 out. At last Dick said, " We came in such a crooked way that I 
 suppose I must have got turned round somehow." 
 
 " You always have to go in a crooked way through these woods," 
 answered the trapper, tk for the longest way round is almost always 
 the shortest way home. Hills, swamps, and ponds prevent anything 
 that can't swim, walk, and fly from following a straight course up 
 here. There are lots of places where the wind has raked through 
 the-trees, and piled them together like jackstraws, where you couldn't, 
 if loaded, make a hundred feet in a hundred minutes, to say nothing 
 of the danger of a broken arm or leg. Such places must be gone 
 round." 
 
 " Then a compass isn't of much use ?" said Harry. 
 
 " Not unless you know how to use it, and that's quite a different 
 thing from using it on the water. There a straight line is taken 
 and followed. Here you go wandering about, seldom in the same 
 course for any five consecutive minutes, but the average of all the 
 directions taken must be the same straight line which would have 
 been followed on water." 
 
 " I suppose you know the woods so well that you can always tell 
 where you are ?" said Harry. 
 
 " Not by a jugful," replied the trapper, " nor any other man, 
 either. There are peculiar-looking places in the woods which, of 
 course, I recognize, but as a general thing the woods in one place 
 look very much like the same kind of woods in another, just as one 
 place on the ocean looks like another. When I have plenty of time 
 and am not hurried, I always choose a new course to any place I'm 
 bound to, so as to study the country and keep track of where the 
 game is working. If I didn't I wouldn't know where to trap and 
 
80 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 hunt to the best advantage. 
 It's just as much part of my 
 business as to know how to 
 set my traps. Often and of- 
 ten I couldn't say just where 
 I w r as, but I always know 
 where the place I'm bound 
 to is, and how to get there." 
 " How do you do it ?" 
 asked Dick. 
 " The two things which a woodsman relies on most to show him 
 his way are the direction in which the streams flow and the sun. 
 Suppose I was a stranger in this neighborhood, and was in the 
 woods anywhere within ten or twelve miles of here. I had heard 
 
 WHERE THE WIND HAS RAKED THROUGH 
 THE TREES.*' 
 
HOW A WOODSMAN FINDS HIS WAY. 
 
 81 
 
 of the Forks and wanted to go there. The first brook I struck 
 would show me where the main valley and the river lay, since the 
 brook is bound sooner or later to flow into the river. But the 
 brook will be crooked, and will probably flow through alder 
 swamps and beaver-works, where travelling would be mighty mean. 
 I would then hunt for the tallest spruce-tree I could find which had 
 a smaller tree growing near it. That don't take long in these 
 woods. I would climb the small tree, and from that climb into the 
 big one and go to its very 
 top. From there I would 
 get an outlook. All the for- 
 est through this wilderness 
 is pretty much like what 
 you have seen. Sometimes 
 it's a little thicker and some- 
 times thinner, but as a gen- 
 eral thing you can't see 
 more than about thirty or 
 forty yards in any direc- 
 tion. If you want to see 
 out over the country, you've 
 got to climb for it. Hav- 
 ing decided where to go, I'd 
 take the compass direction, 
 and notice how the sun 
 strikes me when looking 
 that way. That is, if the 
 sun shines on my left side, I 
 know that if I keep it shin- 
 ing on my left side I am on 
 my course. As I travel I 
 
 have to wander a good deal from this line for the sake of easier 
 walking, but I keep track of the sun all the time, and know when I 
 leave my course and in what direction. The first chance I have, 
 I work back, cross my course, and go off about as much on the 
 other side, so as to average it up and keep my general direction as 
 
 A PECULIAR LOOKING PLACE. 
 
82 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 near right as I conveniently can. At the end of half an hour I 
 know about what I have done and whether I am on the line ; or 
 if off from it, how much I am off and on which side. I then take 
 
 a new compass bearing, see 
 how the sun strikes me when 
 facing in that direction, and 
 go ahead. I want you to re- 
 member this, because every 
 time we are out of sight of 
 camp, and I think of it, I am 
 going to ask you where it lies. 
 Notice the position of the sun 
 when you start, and keep 
 watch of it. You will then 
 know every change of direc- 
 tion we make, and what the 
 average direction is. But you 
 mustn't forget that between 
 sunrise and sunset the sun 
 travels from east to west, and 
 to make some allowance for 
 its motion. It's a dreadful 
 thing to be lost in these 
 woods, and I don't mean to 
 give you the chance. But if 
 we do get separated, I intend you shall be able to find your 
 way back to camp if anything I can say will teach you how to 
 do it." 
 
 " But suppose it's cloudy and the sun can't be seen — then 
 what ?" asked Dick. 
 
 " Then it's harder. If the direction of the hills and valleys is 
 known they may serve as a guide. If not, then get the compass 
 bearing of the right course, which, we will say, is north-east. Then 
 pick out the most distant object that can be seen to the north-east, 
 pocket the compass, and go to that object. You can wander to and 
 fro as much as you like, but the object you are aiming for must be 
 
 OX THE LITTLE RIVER. 
 
HOW A WOODSMAN FINDS HIS WAY. 
 
 83 
 
 kept in sight. Having reached the mark, out compass and pick out 
 a new mark to the north-east, go to that, then use the compass 
 again in the same way, and so on." 
 
 "Can't you tell where the north and south are by the moss on 
 the trees ? I have certainly read so," said Dick. 
 
 ALONG THE BANK OF THE STREAM. 
 
84 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " There are lots of things that look all right in a book which are 
 not good for much out of it, and I am inclined to think that's one. 
 The idea is that the moss grows thickest on the most sheltered side 
 of the tree, and that may be so. But the other notion that the 
 sheltered side must be the south side, and the bare side the north 
 side, certainly isn't true in these woods ; and I don't think it's so 
 in hilly countries, if anywhere. It doesn't agree with the facts 
 here, at any rate, and it does not seem to me reasonable either. 
 The cold winds may blow from the north over the tops of the hills, 
 but through the valleys the same wind will draw from many differ- 
 ent directions according to the shape of the hills, and the exposed 
 side of the trees will vary accordingly. But we must be moving." 
 
 Kesuming their packs, they continued their way up along the 
 bank of the stream for about two miles, leaving a trap here and 
 there on some conspicuous tree. 
 
 There the trapper halted and said, " The line to camp begins at 
 this tree. It is a spotted line, just like that I made this morning 
 from camp to the stream, only the spots are three years old and not 
 so plain. It's my turn to play gentleman now and bring up the 
 rear. Dick, } t ou take the lead for a while, and let's see how you 
 make out." 
 
 Dick did as he was told, and for quite half an hour they pur- 
 sued their way in silence, except when they stopped for a moment 
 or two to make some trifling repair to a sable-trap. They found 
 the line arranged like that made in the morning, the traps averag- 
 ing about a quarter of a mile apart and housed in the same way. 
 The travelling had not been very good, and at times it was not 
 without difficulty and an occasional suggestion from the trapper 
 that Dick kept the line. Then they struck a well-worn trail, and 
 Dick went off on it with a sigh of relief and satisfaction. They 
 had followed it for some forty yards or so when the trapper said, 
 
 " You've changed your mind, I suppose, Dick, and intend to lie 
 out instead of going back to camp." 
 
 " No, I haven't," answered Dick ; " I'm right on the trail. It's 
 just as plain as plain can be." 
 
 " But I don't see any spotted trees on this trail ; and, as I told 
 
A DEER-KOAD. 
 
 bo 
 
 you, the sable-line is spotted clear to camp. Take a look at the 
 sun. Are you going in the same direction in which you started, or 
 in anything like it ?" 
 
 Dick was forced to admit he was not. 
 
 " I put you in the lead on purpose to teach you a lesson. You 
 are off the line, and not on any trail; that is, any trail that was 
 made by man. This is a deer-road. If you followed it, it would 
 
 AN OBSTACLE TO TRAVEL. 
 
 lead you up into the mountains, grow gradually fainter and fainter, 
 and finally disappear altogether. Many and many a poor fellow 
 lost in the woods has followed such trails to his death. The deer 
 spend the day up in the hills. In the evening they wander down 
 towards the water to feed, and this is one of the paths they fol- 
 low. There are thousands of them up here, and you want to 
 study it carefully so you will know one the next time you see it. 
 
sr, 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 Now we will get back on the line, and then, Harry, you may take 
 the lead. 1 ' 
 
 Harry took due note of the sun and kept a keen lookout for 
 the spots on the trees, so all went well for a long time. At last 
 
 A LOXE FISHERMAN. 
 
 they came to another path. Harry crossed it and kept on a short 
 distance, then stopped and looked anxiously round. He could see 
 no spotted tree. 
 
 " Hello, Harry, what's this ?" called out the trapper from the 
 rear. 
 
 " You don't fool me on any deer-road. I've learned that much, 
 anyway," replied Harry. " I know I've lost the line, but I'll find it 
 again in a few minutes." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad of that," answered the trapper. kw But as this 
 deer-road leads direct to camp, and is the same one which you came 
 over from the Forks, perhaps you had better look for the line 
 here." 
 
 Harry was not a little mortified at his mistake, but he bore it 
 with the best ^race he could. 
 
A DEER-ROAD OR A TRAIL? 
 
 ST 
 
 " Now that you have seen a deer-road and a trail, I may as well 
 show you how to tell them apart," said the trapper. " A man's 
 foot is long and broad, while a deer's foot is small and narrow. 
 Both walk in the way that's easiest for them. A man, therefore, 
 steps on all the high points; a deer steps between them. So 
 when you see the moss knocked off the higher points and the pro- 
 jecting roots bare, you may know that it is done by some long- 
 footed animal such as a man or bear, and bear are very scarce up 
 here, though plenty enough down around the settlement, where they 
 can find more food. So if you see that the wear of travel is all in 
 the hollows between the roots, and that they and the high points in 
 the trail are covered with moss or dirt, you may conclude it's a deer- 
 road. There, that old tree trunk which has fallen across the trail 
 tells the story. You have crossed fifty or more just like it to-day, 
 and found the upper side of every one of them covered with moss. 
 When a man straddles over such a log he invariably tears the moss 
 off. A deer does not. Such a mark will last a long time." 
 
 Soon afterwards they reached the home-camp, quite tired from 
 their day's tramp and with a ravenous appetite. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Back at Daut's Camp. — Moose-talk. — A Hunting Adventure. — Attacked by a Moose. 
 
 AFTER supper that evening, the trapper sat on the flat board 
 - which ran along the foot of the wide bunk, which he called 
 " the deacon's seat." He sat bent forward, his elbows resting on his 
 knees, slowly puffing his pipe, and thoughtfully gazing into the fire, 
 as though he could read the future in its dancing flames. At last 
 he spoke : 
 
 " Didn't one of you say something to me about a chance at a 
 moose? Yes? I thought so. I've- been thinking it over a little. 
 I don't see much more to be done around here until the trapping 
 season opens, so I have four or five spare days that I can give to it, 
 if you like. What do you say ?" 
 
 Since the first night in Dant's camp, had any good fairy given 
 the boys the traditional three wishes, this which the trapper had 
 suggested would have been the first. He had detected it with his 
 usual shrewdness, and though at the cost of not a little inconven- 
 ience and some loss of time, had determined to gratify their ambi- 
 
MOOSE-TALK. 91 
 
 tion if he could. So eager were the boys that they were quite inco- 
 herent in their thanks. 
 
 " You'd better hold your horses before you go much further into 
 the thanking business. Perhaps we won't get anything after all, ex- 
 cept lots of hard work. That we may safely count on. This is a 
 betwixt and between season for moose-hunting, but still there is a 
 chance, and we'll take it. These woods are too thick and too noisy 
 to still hunt them in, until there is a good cushion of snow over the 
 ground to cover the leaves and twigs." 
 
 " What do you mean by ' still hunt them V " asked Dick. 
 
 " To find a fresh trail and follow it up for a shot. But you 
 couldn't stand that sort of thing, anyway. Why not ? Because a 
 moose has the sharpest hearing and the keenest scent of any animal. 
 Though its nose may look like a battered foot-ball, and its ears like 
 the sails of a windmill, they answer the purpose for which noses and 
 ears were made uncommon well. Many's the time they have been 
 good enough or bad enough, according as you look at it from the 
 moose or my side of the question, to make me almost ready to tear 
 out my hair with disappointment, till I was as bald as a coot. I have 
 followed a moose for every minute of daylight for three or four days 
 on end, camping just where night overtook me, and off again as soon 
 as it was light enough to see ; and when I thought I had a dead-sure 
 thing at last, a step on some little dry twig, or a rasp of my clothes 
 against some bush, or a sudden shift of wind, has started the animal 
 off like a runaway engine. Like most animals, they are not very 
 sharp-sighted. But if a man wants to get the best of a moose's nose 
 and ears still hunting, he's got to lay awake nights thinking how he 
 is going to do it, and get up early in the morning to carry out his 
 plans, and then he'll fail oftener than not. But I had rather kill 
 one moose still hunting than ten any other way, because it's a trick 
 none but a good woodsman can do. But that's neither here nor 
 there. You couldn't stand the hardship, and you'd be sure to make 
 some kind of a noise just at the wrong time ; and we haven't any 
 snow. So that way is out of the question." 
 
 " I have heard my uncle tell about still hunting elk out West," 
 said Harrv. 
 
92 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " Yes," replied the trapper. " But still hunting out there and here 
 are two very different things. There the country is comparatively 
 open, you can see your game a long way off, and there's a chance 
 for long shots. Here, in the places where a moose would lay up for 
 the da} 7 , it's generally almost as thick as the hair on a cat's back, 
 you can't see your game until you are nearly on top of it, and you 
 seldom shoot over thirty or forty yards. Then out there you can 
 carry your grub, blankets, and even a tent, on mule-back. Here 
 you've got to be your own mule, and can't carry an ounce of any- 
 thing that isn't absolutely necessary to keep the breath of life in 
 your body. But there's no use of talking about it. Still hunting 
 is out of the question for us." 
 
 " But isn't there some other way ?" asked Harry, in dismay. 
 
 " Yes, there are several other ways. But they are all uncertain, 
 since we must depend on the moose coming to us, or at least meet- 
 ing us half-way, instead of going to it. We can patrol the water at 
 night on the chance of catching one crossing, or I might call one up. 
 But it's settled that we try it, is it % All right. Then we light out 
 of here for Canada just as soon after daylight to-morrow as we can 
 swallow our breakfast." 
 
 " That will be grand," said Dick. " I've never been out of the 
 United States, and I should like to see Canada first-rate." 
 
 " Canada is quite a little tract of country," replied the trapper, 
 with a smile, " and I hardly think you'll be able to take it all in in 
 this trip." 
 
 " I didn't exactly mean that," answered Dick. " I meant I would 
 like to say I had been in Canada. But why do we go over there \ 
 Are moose much more plenty ?" 
 
 " No. I don't think there is much to choose in that respect. 
 There are plenty of moose around here. But I have a camp and 
 a good canoe at a certain place in Canada where we can be com- 
 fortable. The country over there is more open than here, so I 
 think our chances will be a good deal better. Besides, it's a month 
 and more since anybody has been there, so the game has not been 
 disturbed and won't be so suspicious." 
 
 " Tell us something about moose, Mr. Dant," said Harrv. 
 
Btili 
 
 HEAD OF BULL MOOSE. 
 
MOOSE-TALK. 
 
 95 
 
 " A moose is a long-legged, short-bodied animal, with a short 
 thick neck and a little stub of a tail. I have heard of them as high 
 as eight feet at the fore-shoulder, but I rather guess those moose 
 grew after they were killed. You know, I suppose, that fish and 
 game often do. If we say that seven feet, or seven feet one or two 
 inches, is as tall as they ever grow, I think we will do the moose full 
 
 MOOSE AT BAT. 
 
96 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 justice. On the end of its neck it has a head, not as big as all out- 
 doors, it is true, but still a mighty big head all the same, and on that 
 head are mounted a nose and a pair of ears that look as though 
 they had been made for a head twice as big. There's nothing small 
 about a moose except its eyes and its tail. I suppose that it takes 
 so much nourishment to make and keep up such a nose and pair of 
 ears they have to economize on eyes and tail. 
 
 " A moose has just two objects in life — to keep its hide whole 
 and its stomach full. They spend their days upon the side of some 
 mountain, each bull by himself, and each cow by herself, with only a 
 calf or two of different ages, if she has any, for company. There it 
 lies till towards sundown, snoozing and chewing the cud like a cow. 
 But it don't make any difference how much the rest of the animal 
 may doze, its nose and ears are always the widest kind of awake. 
 ISot the faintest sound nor the least taint in the air escapes notice. 
 And they seem to have such judgment about sounds, too. Last 
 November a year ago, I was sneaking up on a moose, when a tree 
 fell in the woods close by. It made me pretty near jump out of my 
 skin, but the moose just lazily turned its head and stared in that 
 direction for a few minutes as unconcerned as you please. But if, 
 instead of that, I had snapped one single twig as big as a lead-pen- 
 cil, that moose would have dusted out of there as if the ground had 
 suddenly grown red-hot under its feet. 
 
 k> If it hears anything it thinks suspicious, and it's not too near, 
 it will steal away so quietly that you can't hear the faintest sound. 
 In the darkest night not a leaf will rustle nor a twig snap. A 
 person might think it was the ghost of a moose if he didn't hunt 
 up the tracks the next day, for even a ghost could not vanish more 
 silently. But if it scents danger, particularly if the scent is of 
 man. you'd think the whole country was being broken up. If you 
 ploughed a locomotive through these woods it would hardly make 
 more noise. 
 
 " I was off with a gentleman last October, over at a piece of 
 water we will pass to-morrow. It's an uncommon good valley for 
 game through which that stream flows, but a mighty poor one for 
 the hunter. The brook, for reallv it isn't anvthing else, wouldn't 
 
A HUNTING ADVENTURE. 99 
 
 be boatable at all if it were not for a lot of beaver dams, and that 
 the valley there is level and boggy. The stream is narrow in all 
 places ; often it is not wide enough to turn the canoe round. The 
 banks, too, are high, and covered in many places with tall grass so 
 you can't look over. The woods in some places come to the bank, 
 but oftener lie fifty or sixty feet back. The canoe I had over there 
 was one of the kind you have to part your hair in the middle in. 
 Any attempt to stand up in it to shoot over the bank would have 
 stood us both on our heads in the drink in a little less than no time. 
 So you see our only chance was to catch our game in the water, or 
 in one of the very few places where the bank was low. 
 
 " Desperate hard luck we had that night. A beautiful full 
 moon made things pretty light except where the shadow of the 
 woods fell on the water. Well, we paddled up the stream till we 
 were almost at the end of the boating. Then I heard a deer walk- 
 ing in the grass. You can easy tell a deer's walk from that of a 
 caribou or moose, it's so much quicker and nervous-like. If we 
 couldn't see the deer over the bank, it couldn't see us either, so I 
 shoved the canoe into the shadow of some alder bushes on the side 
 the deer was coining from, hoping it would take the water below 
 us and give us a chance. There we waited for about five minutes, 
 listening and watching for all we were worth. Then I heard a 
 bird twitter in the bushes over our heads, and the next minute a 
 deer snorted right in my sportsman's ear. It couldn't have been 
 more than four feet off. Did you ever hear a deer snort? It 
 sounds like a person coughing very loud. How it did snort and 
 stamp ! If ever a deer was scared out of a year's growth, that was 
 the deer. And as to my man, it came on him so sudden and unex- 
 pected, and so near, and in the middle of such a deathly stillness, 
 that it was as if some one had hit him with a club. If I hadn't 
 had my paddle on the bank to hold the canoe still, we would have 
 had to fin it sure. 
 
 " Well, of course that deer had no more business in that neigh- 
 borhood, and cleared out as if it had to call on some one in the next 
 county and had just five minutes left to get there. So we went 
 down almost to the foot of the boating. There we heard two 
 
100 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 caribou. We laid up to the bank and waited on those beasts full 
 three-quarters of an hour, keeping all that time just as still as a 
 cast-iron image. Sometimes they would come within twenty-five 
 feet or so of us, and we'd think we were going to have them sure. 
 Then they would wander off again, and we'd think it was all up. 
 Then they'd come back again, and so it went on. Exasperating is 
 no name for it. The woods just full of game, and we only wanted 
 one head and couldn't get it. But then that's the way it generally 
 works in actual practice. A hunter up here has to stand a lot of 
 that sort of thing. 
 
 " Finally they went off without discovering us, or we getting a 
 chance at them. Then we went up-stream again, almost as far as 
 before. There I heard a moose — a big one. I could hear his slow, 
 solemn tread, and the swish of the long grass on his legs as he 
 walked along. There was a nice low place in the bank a little 
 ahead of us, a splendid place for a moose to cross the stream, and 
 just the spot for it to kick its last in. I put the canoe up against 
 the bank and under some alder bushes, so that we would be hidden 
 until the moose was in the water, and waited. My only thought 
 was, ' Now, if my man is only good for anything, won't we give 
 that moose a surprise party!' But it kept on by the crossing. You 
 could count every footstep till it was right abreast of us on the 
 other side of the bushes, not fifteen feet off. There it stopped. 
 We waited, listening till our ears almost cracked, for full half an 
 hour and never heard another sound. I knew then that the moose 
 had gone, and whispered as much to my man. I whispered because 
 I knew the moose was not frightened, only suspicious. It's their 
 way if they suspect danger, and think they haven't been seen, to 
 try to sneak off ; and mighty well they do it too. A moose has a 
 big head, but it has brains to match. If we did nothing more to 
 scare it, there was a chance that it might try to cross farther down ; 
 and in hunting you've got to take all the chances there are lying 
 around loose. You may do your level best forty times running, 
 and nothing come of it ; but if you let up on any one point, expe- 
 rience has taught me that that's just the time when that point will 
 beat you sure. The first thing to be learned in hunting is patience, 
 
A HUNTING ADVENTURE. 
 
 101 
 
 and the next is perseverance. A poor shot who tries his best, and 
 keeps trying, will get a good deal more game than a good one who 
 is careless or gets discouraged. 
 
 " Well, as I was saying, I whispered to my man the moose had 
 gone. He wouldn't believe it, but insisted on landing up at the 
 
 FOLLOWING AN ELK TRAIL. 
 
 low place so he could see behind the bushes. I told him it would 
 spoil our chances below and do no good, but he insisted. Of course 
 the man who pays the bills has a right to be boss, so we landed. 
 There was nothing there. You wouldn't have thought a mouse, 
 much less an animal as heavy as an ox, could have gone off through 
 
102 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 that high half-dry grass without our hearing it, especially on such 
 a dead-still night as that was. At first my man was completely 
 dumfounded. Then he insisted that we had fooled ourselves and 
 that there never had been any moose there at all. But the next 
 morning I took him up to the place and showed him the trail as 
 plain as could be. It was a big one. He didn't say very much to 
 me, but kept repeating to himself, ' I wouldn't have believed it ! I 
 wouldn't have believed it !' " 
 
 " Isn't a bull-moose a very dangerous animal to hunt ?" asked 
 Dick. 
 
 " No, not as a general thing," replied the trapper. " At this 
 season of the year, which, you know, is the pairing season, they are 
 sometimes inclined to be vicious. But now, as at any other time, 
 they'll generally run if they can, even when wounded. I know 
 that doesn't exactly agree with the books that I've seen. From 
 them you'd think a wounded bull-moose was next door to a raging 
 lion, but that isn't my experience. If they think they are cornered 
 they'll fight every time ; and so will any wild animal, if it isn't 
 bigger than your thumb. They will always turn on a man who 
 is running them on snow-shoes, but only if he crowds them too 
 close, and not if he keeps thirty or forty yards off. I've killed a 
 good many moose in my day, and have seen a good many killed, 
 and I never saw but one case where a moose attacked when it 
 seemed to have a good chance to run away, though I have heard 
 of others." 
 
 " I'm glad of that," said Harry. " It would be bad enough to 
 be gored by a bull, but to be gored by a bull-moose with so many 
 points on its horns, why, it would punch a person full of holes all 
 over." 
 
 " There isn't the least danger from its horns," remarked the 
 trapper. " They don't attack a man that way. It's their fore-feet 
 that are to be dreaded, for they can strike a blow with them like a 
 sledge-hammer and as quick as a prize-fighter. They are so long- 
 legged, too, that they have a big reach, and their hoofs cut like a 
 knife. Then if they once get a man down, you'd think they had 
 been groaning for that chance for the last five years. They will 
 
ATTACKED BY A MOOSE. 
 
 103 
 
 AN ANXIOUS MOMENT. 
 
 pound him till they are tired, stand off a while to get breath, and 
 then at him again, and so on. When his friends come to carry 
 him home they will find a shovel mighty convenient to have 
 around." 
 
 " Tell us about when the moose did attack," said Dick. 
 
 " I was off with a gentleman where we are going to-morrow, it 
 
104 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 must have been five years ago. He was a rather small thin man. 
 one of the queerest mixtures I ever saw. One day there would be 
 no bounds to his enterprise ; the next you'd suppose that his bod- 
 ily comfort was the only thing he ever thought of, and that he 
 wouldn't wet the sole of his shoe for the whole township. Still he 
 was a mighty pleasant man to be with, and an uncommon good 
 shot with a rifle ; and it was well for him he was, too. He had a 
 44-calibre "Winchester repeating rifle, the same one we carried yes- 
 terday. He gave it to me afterwards. Well, we were over there in 
 Canada prowling about the stream for a moonlight shot, for the 
 moon was full then. As we rounded a bend, keeping in the shade 
 of the bank, there stood a bull -moose on the other side of the 
 stream just getting ready to cross. It's a good plan with game 
 that may be dangerous to wait until it's abreast of or by you be- 
 fore you fire. You not only get a better shot, but the animal isn't 
 so likely to turn on you. But this my man either didn't know or 
 didn't care for. He drew on that moose quicker than scat, banged 
 away, and just grazed the top of its neck. There's nothing like a 
 neck shot if it's placed right. It will knock the biggest animal off 
 its legs as though it were struck by lightning. There won't be the 
 least kick left in it. But shooting by moonlight is at best an un- 
 certain business, and he ought not to have tried a shot requiring 
 such accuracy. I shall never forget the look of that moose as it 
 came for us. It seemed to be about as big as a sleeping-car, and 
 there was a green glare in its eyes that was enough to paralyze 
 you. It was plain that it meant business and that there was no 
 time for any foolishness. I sung out to my man to get out of the 
 boat, thinking we'd leave the moose to hammer away at the boat, 
 which would be the biggest object, and probably take up its atten- 
 tion while we took to the bank. Then, while it was interested in 
 the boat Ave could bombard it at close quarters ; and as my man 
 knew where to shoot and could shoot, I made no doubt he'd floor it 
 all right. Besides, I thought it likely the moose would stave its 
 fore-legs through the boat the first or second lick, and if it did it 
 wouldn't find it so easy to get clear again. 
 
 " Well, I got out in short order. The water wasn't over three 
 
ATTACKED BY A MOOSE. 105 
 
 or three and a half feet deep. I supposed he would follow. But 
 perhaps he didn't know that he could wade, or thought the water 
 looked too wet. At any rate, there he sat, to my horror, cool as 
 you please, pumping the lead into that moose, which was just jump- 
 ing for him and making the water fly. I thought his time had 
 
 %y® 
 
 A LONG SIIOT. 
 
 come sure, for I had nothing but the paddle and couldn't help him 
 a bit. It was all over in eight or ten seconds, but I don't want to 
 see any more such seconds. There wasn't time for many shots, for 
 the moose wasn't more than thirty yards away at the start. But 
 the second shot he fired caught the moose just where the neck joins 
 the body, and brought it down within twenty feet of him. He 
 
106 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 seemed cool enough after the danger was over — perhaps he didn't 
 know what a narrow squeak he had had ; but as for me, I was in 
 such a tremble that I wanted to catch hold of a tree for fear I'd 
 shake my teeth loose. 
 
 "By -the -way, do you know what time it is? because if you 
 don't I'll tell you. It's time people who are bound for foreign 
 parts went to bed." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Through the Woods into Canada.— Hard Travelling.— The Boundary Line between 
 the United States and Canada.— Arrival at the Bog. — A Shot at a Deer. 
 
 THE next morning the trapper and the boys rowed to the head 
 of the lake. There they pulled the boat ashore and made it 
 fast, shouldered their packs, and entered the bush. For the first 
 half-hour the way lay through an alder swamp, where they had to 
 struggle for every foot of advance. Every few moments one or the 
 
108 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 other of the boys would step on a slippery root, or catch his foot 
 under some bush growing almost parallel with the ground. Then a 
 frantic struggle to regain the lost balance would follow, a struggle 
 by no means lightened by the unaccustomed pack, a struggle some- 
 times successful, if to fall against and be upheld by a clump of 
 alders may be called successful. Occasionally they went down alto- 
 gether, when their packs would show a far from agreeable tendency 
 to strike them on the back of the head and hammer their noses into 
 the mud. At last, to their delight, the ground began to rise, and a 
 few moments later they found themselves out of the swamp and in 
 the forest. 
 
 "Whew!" exclaimed Harry, "that was tough. Do let's rest for 
 a few minutes, Mr. Dant." 
 
 " I don't think any one would mistake it for a turnpike," replied 
 the trapper. " Off with your packs, and we will take a five-minute 
 rest. You mustn't be discouraged yet, for we have only begun to 
 hunt moose, and this is just as much a part of it as firing the rifle. 
 Besides, a pack always feels its heaviest about twenty minutes after 
 the start. You'll get used to it in a little while and not mind it 
 so much. Packing is pretty hard work, particularly when you have 
 to take the travelling as it comes, and just as nature furnishes it. 
 Put on your coats, though. I know you re boiling hot now, but your 
 shirts, where your packs rested, are wet through with perspiration, 
 and you'll be chilled in no time without them." 
 
 "How many times did you fall down, Dick?" asked Harry. 
 
 " Six," replied Dick ; " and every time I went down, my pack 
 flew up and hit me on the back of my head. Besides the falls, I 
 had a lot of stumbles which banged me into the alders. I feel as 
 though I had been ground in a mill." 
 
 " I got off with only four downright falls," said Harry. " I slip- 
 ped into one mud-hole, though. It may have had a bottom, but I 
 didn't find it. It feels as if I had half the swamp in my left shoe. 
 Then if I picked up my hat once, I think I must have picked it up 
 twenty times. I hope we are not going to have much more like 
 that ; are we, Mr. Dant ?" 
 
 " Xo, we won't have any more quite as bad as that ; but I could 
 
i i\n, • ' ASi, 
 
"HAKD TRAVELLING." Ill 
 
 take you through travelling down near the settlement that would 
 make you just sigh for that alder swamp. If a man is studying 
 travelling, and wants to know what bad travelling really is, he wants 
 to strike into an old lumber-works. When the forest is cut off in 
 this country so as to let the sun in on to the ground, it always 
 grows up to raspberry bushes and little cherry-trees about as thick 
 as my thumb, both as close together as the hair on your head. 
 Where they come from is more than I can tell, for you won't find 
 them anywhere else or under any other circumstances. But clear 
 the ground and let the sun in on it, and there they'll be every 
 time. Hidden by this thick stuff are all the old logs, tree-tops, and 
 branches the lumbermen have left ; and forcing your way along is 
 just one climb, tumble, scratch, and claw, tumble down, pick your- 
 self up, fall down again, and so on. A man who tries it once isn't 
 likely to forget it in a hurry. But we'll never get to Canada at this 
 rate. Let's be up and doing." 
 
 So they resumed their way, marching steadily, as nearly as the 
 trapper could judge the time, for forty minutes, and then resting for 
 ten. The travelling varied considerably. Sometimes it was quite 
 good and open, at other times quite rough and bushy. Every thirty 
 or forty yards a fallen tree barred their way, sometimes waist-high, 
 sometimes up to their chins. These had to be climbed over or 
 crawled under, and hard work the boys found it after a while. The 
 only incident that broke the monotony of the march was in con- 
 nection with one of these fallen trees. A smothered but energetic 
 eloquence caused the trapper and Dick to look behind them. There 
 lay Harry sprawled out on his face on the ground, struggling vio- 
 lently. Tired of climbing over, he had tried to crawl under the 
 fallen trunk of a spruce-tree. He had failed to take the thickness 
 of his pack into consideration, and there he was jammed fast. The 
 trapper soon released him, and said : 
 
 " After a person has climbed over about a hundred and fifty of 
 these breast-logs in the course of a forenoon, he begins to watch 
 for chances to get under them with considerable interest. But don't 
 you be fooled. You, Harry, know how it is now. To you, Dick, I 
 would say never try to go under a log with a pack on, unless you 
 
112 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 are perfectly sure you can do it, and do it without stooping much. 
 You are almost certain not to make allowance enough for the pack, 
 and if }^ou get hung up, it will take more work out of you to get 
 clear than climbing twenty logs. ,, 
 
 About noon the trapper called a halt by the side of a small 
 brook. 
 
 "We'd better lunch here and rest for an hour. What do you 
 say ?" 
 
 The boys were only too willing. Lunch over, the trapper lit his 
 pipe, and looking keenly at his companions, said, 
 
 " Well, boys, how goes it ? Pretty tired, eh ?" 
 
 " WED BETTER I.UNCII HERE AND REST FOR AN HOUR. 
 
 " I am beginning to feel rested some, now," replied Dick, " but 
 when we stopped I was quite ready. How my shoulders did ache 
 under the pack-straps ! And then I had a pain in the middle of my 
 breastbone that wasn't pleasant." 
 
 " So did I," said Harry. k> How much farther is it, Mr. Dant 2" 
 
 " We'll have better travelling after this, and more downhill. I 
 think we'll reach the place where I keep my boat in about two 
 hours and a half after we leave here, if we keep at it as we have 
 done ; but we've time enough, and can take it easier. Then you can 
 put some of your stuff into my pack if you like, and go lighter." 
 
 To this suggestion the boys wouldn't listen, for they had slyly 
 tried the weight of the trapper's pack by lifting it, and had won- 
 
A LUMBER WORKS. 
 
FROM THE UNITED STATES INTO CANADA. 115 
 
 dered how a man could travel over so rough a country under such 
 a weight. It seemed to them as heavy as a well-filled trunk. 
 
 " How far do you think we have come ?" asked Dick. 
 
 " Well, we've been travelling about five hours, and I should say 
 we had made seven to seven and a half miles." 
 
 " Only seven miles and a half ?" said Harry. 
 
 " Not over that, I should say. Why, how much did you think 
 we had done ?" 
 
 " I thought we had made twelve or fourteen miles sure," replied 
 Harry. " I've walked four measured miles in an hour at home, and 
 did not work half so hard. Surely, Mr. Dant, we must have made 
 three miles an hour to-day, or at any rate two and a half !" 
 
 " That's the way all city people talk who come up here, but 
 they are mistaken all the same. I can't make three miles an hour 
 over such going as we have had to-day without a load, and I can 
 do it a third quicker than you can. When you happen on clear, 
 level walking you do three miles an hour without doubt, but how 
 much of that sort of thing do you find? How many miles an hour 
 do you make when you are climbing over all the breast -logs, or 
 when you are balancing over the roots and things of that kind, or 
 when your hat is knocked off by a bush, or when you stumble and 
 fall? How many miles an hour do you suppose we made in that 
 alder swamp ? We were half an hour good in crossing it, and it isn't 
 over five hundred yards wide, if it's that. No, no, don't deceive 
 yourselves. A mile and a half an hour is good average travelling 
 through the woods, take them as they come. But the camp where 
 we are to sleep to-night will never come to us. I think, if you are 
 rested, we had better be moving." 
 
 About an hour and a half later the trapper called a halt, and 
 said, " Welcome to Canada, boys." 
 
 " Are we in Canada ?" asked Harry, staring about him as if he 
 had expected to see all the trees bright pink instead of their usual 
 sombre green. 
 
 " You're in Canada, sure enough. Why, don't it look as you ex- 
 pected ?" 
 
 " Come to think of it, I don't know why I should have expected 
 
116 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 it to look different, but I did ; perhaps because it's always colored 
 different on the maps," replied Harry. " But how do you know so 
 positively we are in Canada? The woods have looked just the same 
 for the last two hours?" 
 
 " You're not thirty feet from the boundary line now. Come 
 here, and I'll show it to } T ou. Do you see that stump, and that, and 
 
 A LUMBERMAN S BIVOUAC. 
 
 that ? They are not the stumps of trees blown down by the wind. 
 They are old and moss-covered ; but to me, at any rate, it's just as 
 certain they were cut with an axe as that you stand here. Now 
 look at the trees there and on both sides of you. Don't you see 
 that there is a strip here in which there are no big trees, as there are 
 on both sides of it, and that these small trees are very much closer 
 together ? Now, here is an easy tree to climb, and from its top you 
 
ON THE BOUNDARY LINE. 117 
 
 can see out some over the country. I should like one of ycu to go 
 up it and tell me what you see." 
 
 Harry was soon in the top of the tree indicated by the trapper. 
 He took one look, and then shouted down, " Oh, Dick, come up here, 
 come up here ! Such lots of mountains, and all covered with woods 
 to their very tops ! Oh, it's lovely !" 
 
 " Don't you see anything else ?" shouted back the trapper. 
 
 " Yes, I see a road running over the mountains. It looks among 
 the trees like a city street between the houses. 1 ' 
 
 " Where is the end nearest you V again called the trapper. 
 
 " Why, good gracious ! It runs right to the foot of this tree, 
 and then up and over the top of this hill." 
 
 " That's all. You can come down now whenever you're 
 ready." 
 
 Dick had in the mean time also climbed the tree, and had seen 
 what Harry had described. 
 
 When they had descended, the trapper said, " Leave your packs 
 here and I'll show you something more." 
 
 He led them about a hundred yards away, and there stood a 
 cast-iron obelisk some four feet above the ground, painted white, 
 bearing upon one of its four sides in raised capital letters the words, 
 " National Boundary Line," and on another the words, " Treaty of 
 Washington." The names of the American and British Commis- 
 sioners occupied the remaining two sides. 
 
 Had a friend proposed to show them something in the city, and 
 had that something turned out to be a full-grown moose walking 
 out of a basement area, the boys would have hardly been less pre- 
 pared for the result. In the heart of a wilderness, where to all ap- 
 pearance the foot of man had never trod before, this plain, prosaic, 
 white iron post rose before them like an apparition. 
 
 Their surprise somewhat abated, they fell to examining it with 
 as much care and attention as though it were a new form of bi- 
 cycle. There was nothing particular to be seen about it, however ; 
 for, aside from its locality and purpose, it was as humdrum a piece 
 of cast-iron as could be found anywhere. Beyond that each face 
 was about eight inches wide at the bottom, and six at the top, that 
 8* 
 
118 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 the top ended in a flat four-sided pyramid, and that it was rooted 
 to some considerable depth in the ground, they found little to at- 
 tract their attention. Their curiosity satisfied in these respects, 
 Harry bestrode the boundary line with one foot in the United 
 States and the other in Canada as indicated by the post, and said : 
 
 " Well, Dick, here's something to talk about after we get home, 
 anyway. I am not sure but this side-show alone is worth the price 
 of admission, by which I mean the trouble of getting here/' 
 
 " It certainly is to me," replied Dick. " I heard a paper read 
 before our historical society on this boundary a little while ago. 
 I didn't think then that I should ever see any one stand astride 
 of it." 
 
 " I guess we'd better be moving again now, boys," said the trap- 
 per. " We will have done a day's work when we reach camp, and 
 so won't go out to-night. After supper I'll tell you all I know 
 about the boundary, and Dick shall tell us what he knows about 
 it, I have been over all this part of it time and again, and know 
 what the settlers say was done when it was laid out ; but I never 
 heard the real history of how the place where it should run was 
 decided on." 
 
 The travelling was now generally downhill, and comparatively 
 easy. After about an hour the woods began to grow thinner 
 before them, and soon they emerged upon what the trapper called 
 a " bog." They walked upon a carpet of soft whitish moss, like a 
 sponge in feeling, and apparently saturated with water. At inter- 
 vals small islands of swamp spruce-trees dotted the open surface of 
 the bog. There the trees grew very close together in clumps per- 
 haps fifteen or twenty feet in diameter, the stems of the trees within 
 two or three feet of one another. No trunk exceeds six or seven 
 inches in thickness or thirty feet in height. 
 
 " Don't step where there is no moss, or where there is standing 
 water no matter how shallow it is," directed the trapper. " It's 
 nothing but soft mud there, no one knows how deep. But if you 
 keep on the moss, though the water shows at every step, you will 
 be all right." 
 
 Skirting the edge of the woods upon the bog, they at last came 
 
THE BOG AT LAST. 
 
 119 
 
 - 
 
 to a sluggish and apparently 
 deep strip of water eight or 
 ten feet wide. Its banks, a 
 foot above the water-level, 
 were as perpendicular as 
 though cut with a spade, 
 while its straightness and 
 even width gave it the ap- 
 pearance of an artificial canal. 
 
 "We've about reached the end of our foot journey," said the 
 trapper, as the water came in sight. The next moment they stood 
 
 'N$ 
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE LUMBERMAN. 
 
120 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 beside it, and threw off their packs for the last time with no little - 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " Whew !" exclaimed Harry. " I had no idea that pack was so 
 heavy. Why, I feel as light as a feather now without it. But 
 where's the boat, Mr. Dant '." 
 
 "Well, to tell the truth," replied the trapper, looking very grave. 
 " that's just what I'm trying to find out, It ought to be lying here 
 in the water, tied to this stake by a rope. There's one end of the rope 
 still tied to the stake. Yes, here are the paddles all right. Let me 
 look at that rope again. It's been cut, as sure as you live. I thought 
 it couldn't have broken. This beats the deck ! One thing we may 
 be sure of, no man has had any hand in it, for a man would have 
 untied the rope instead of cutting it, and he would surely have taken 
 the paddles, because he couldn't have used the boat without. But 
 there's one comfort, anyway : Unless the boat has flown away, we'll 
 find it somewhere this side of the big dam. You wait here while 
 I go and take a look for it." So saying, the trapper took one of 
 the paddles and disappeared up the stream. Soon after, they saw 
 him crossing on a pile of brushwood forty or fifty yards above. 
 
 The boys waited an anxious half-hour. Then the trapper ap- 
 peared, seated in the stern of the boat, driving it towards them with 
 steady strokes of his paddle. 
 
 " Here it is, all right, as sound as a dollar and tight as a bottle. 
 I found it down against the dam. Let's load the packs, get aboard 
 and be off to camp." 
 
 The boys were astonished to see a boat thirteen feet long, sharp 
 at both ends, shaped something like a birch canoe, though wider — in 
 short, as pretty a boat as they had ever seen. 
 
 " How did you ever get such a beauty of a boat 'way in 
 here?" asked Dick, after regarding it for some time with a critical 
 eye. 
 
 "I brought it on a hand-sled over from the lake last winter when 
 the snow was deep, and quite a job it was too I can tell you. By 
 the last of February the snow up here gets six or seven feet deep 
 on the level. This weights down the bushes, and covers them and 
 most of the breast-logs so you can travel right over their tops on 
 
<;OOr> TRAVELLING. 
 
A SHOT AT A DEER. 123 
 
 snow-shoes without breaking your gait. Along in March we usually 
 have a spell of weather when it's pretty warm in the middle of the 
 day, while it freezes at night. This hardens the snow so that a 
 hand-sled will hardly cut into its surface at all, unless it's loaded 
 very heavy. That's the time, and in fact the only time, for such 
 a job, and that's when I did it. But the boat was so much longer 
 than the sled and hung over its ends so far that it didn't balance 
 very well. The way it kicked up behind and before was surprising. 
 I had no idea a boat could be so skittish on dry land. It gave 
 me two days and a half of the most solid kind of work. I came 
 just about the same way we took to-day. But do you remem- 
 ber what I said about taking all the chances there were when hunt- 
 ing ? Now is the time to remember it, anyway. Harry, you had 
 the last chance at the caribou, so you sit in the middle of the boat. 
 You, Dick, sit in the bow, put a cartridge into the barrel of the 
 rifle, bring it to a half-cock, and hold it across your lap ready to 
 fire. We may see something on the way down. But remember, 
 not an unnecessary sound is to be made or word spoken till we 
 reach camp." 
 
 Impelled by the skilful paddle of the trapper, the boat soon 
 emerged into a stream about one hundred feet wide, and turning to 
 the left, moved slowly on. Mountains covered with woods could be 
 seen on every hand. On the left bank the forest approached the 
 water more or less closely, being separated from it by a narrow 
 strip of level ground covered with rank marsh-grass. On the right, 
 the bank was sparsely fringed with dead tamarack-trees and alder 
 bushes, though through occasional openings it could be seen that 
 this was but a fringe, and that the stream was separated from the 
 distant hills by a large bog like that they had seen when they first 
 left the woods. 
 
 They soon reached what the boys supposed to be the dam. Here 
 they landed, without a word, on a small island, while the trapper 
 pulled the boat over it. Then re-embarking, they pursued their way. 
 
 About half a mile had been passed in silence when the trapper 
 whispered, " Cock your rifle, Dick, and get ready. There's a deer in 
 the next bend on the ri^ht." 
 
124 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 The boat kept on, both the boys on the alert, though they could 
 neither see nor hear anything. In a few minutes they passed a point 
 which had limited the view before them. A branch about twenty- 
 five feet wide here joined the main stream. On the bank of this 
 branch, some thirty yards distant, stood a deer. The moment the 
 bow of the boat passed the point the deer raised its head, started, 
 looked fixedly at the boat for an instant, and then bounded up the 
 bank. As it turned, Dick fired, but the deer sprang into the bushes 
 and disappeared. " Good gracious, I've missed it !" exclaimed he, in 
 a tone of the keenest disappointment. 
 
 " Hush," whispered the trapper. " Not a word now. We'll talk 
 it over when we reach camp." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Rifle shooting at Game.— Habits of Deer.— The Bog Camp.— Visit from a Skunk.— 
 How the North-eastern Boundary Line was Located. 
 
 SOME twenty minutes later the roar of running water was heard, 
 the banks grew higher, and the forest reached the border of 
 the stream. Here the boat was headed into the bank ; the trapper 
 landed, held the boat till the boys were ashore, ran it up on the 
 bank, removed the packs, and then said : 
 
 ''Here we are at camp, and far enough from the hunting- 
 ground so you can say what you like about that miss, Dick." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Dant, I am so sorry ! I hope you won't be discouraged. 
 I've always done pretty well at a mark with a rifle, and I thought 
 sure I had that deer covered. I never fired at anything larger than 
 a duck before. I'll try to do better next time if you'll only kindly 
 overlook my poor shooting now." 
 
 " Shooting at a mark and shooting at game are quite different 
 things," replied the trapper. " In the one case you shoot at a spot 
 with a good background to show it off and make it distinct. In the 
 other you shoot at a surface pretty much the color of surrounding 
 objects, and usually in a bad light. Men who can do well at a mark 
 and can't do anything at game are common enough. I might say 
 that it was always so at first, when target practice was the only 
 practice with a rifle that had been had. I would, of course, have 
 
126 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 liked to see you knock it in its tracks, but for the first time it 
 wasn't so bad." 
 
 "I don't see what could be much worse than a clear miss, and 
 such an easy shot too," replied Dick. " I thought I could put 
 every bullet I chose to fire in a space as big as a saucer at that 
 distance." 
 
 "You seem to be very sure you missed," said the trapper, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Dant, do you really think I hit it ?" said Dick, a gleam 
 of hope chasing the gloom of despondency from his face. 
 
 " No, Dick, I don't think } t ou hit it — I know you did. The deer 
 turned as you fired. You didn't make any allowance for that, and 
 hit it too far back to lay it out where it stood. But it's got its 
 medicine ; that you may be sure of. How do I know it ? Because 
 a deer handles its tail just as a dog does, and if you watch its tail 
 you can tell what it's thinking of, just as you can with a dog. A 
 deer's tail is of pretty fair size and white underneath. When you 
 start one and miss it, it goes off flourishing its tail in the air, as 
 much as to say, ' You've got to get up earlier in the morning if you 
 want to get the best of me, old fellow.' But when a deer goes off 
 as that one did, with its tail between its legs like a kicked cur. you 
 may know that it is hurt, and badly too." 
 
 " Let's go right back and get it. I'm not tired now at all," 
 exclaimed Harry. 
 
 " That isn't the way to get it. That's the way to lose it," 
 replied the trapper. " A deer isn't an easy animal to kill. I've 
 known one to run over a hundred yards with a bullet through it 
 that cut its heart. That deer is hit through the stomach or bowels. 
 Either will be a sure mortal wound ; but it can run now for five 
 miles on end. If we let it alone it will only go a little way and then 
 lie down, and there we will find it in the morning. But if we start 
 it again now it will go till it drops, and that will be so far off that 
 the chance of my trailing it all that distance, among so many other 
 tracks as I should find, would be mighty slim. I want you to 
 remember this, especially at night : Get in as many shots at the 
 start as you have a good chance for. Then if the animal gets to 
 
HOW TO HUNT DEER. 
 
 129 
 
 cover, don't speak a word or make a sound, but leave as quietly as 
 you can. If it's a miss, you won't get another shot — in a thick 
 country like this, anyway. If it's a hit, leave the animal in doubt 
 if you can as to what hurt it. Then in the morning you will either 
 find the animal dead, or so stiff and sore that you can still hunt it 
 with the chances of success all in your favor. There, put that deer 
 out of your heads till to-morrow morning. Nothing can be done 
 about it till then." 
 
 During this conversation they had reached camp and begun their 
 preparations for supper and the night. Three sides of the house 
 were of round logs, like that at the lake. The fourth was of rough 
 stones built against a steep bank which had been cut down perpen- 
 
 [>' WAIT ON THE BOG. 
 
 dicularly for the purpose. The interior arrangement was the same 
 except as to the fireplace, which was built of rough slabs of stone 
 in the form of an irregular pointed arch, with the hearth some two 
 feet above the floor of the cabin. It looked much like a natural 
 cave, and the boys thought it very picturesque and in keeping with 
 its surroundings. 
 
 "I see you are looking at my fireplace," said the trapper. 
 " Pretty good one, isn't it? It cost me work enough, though. Ev- 
 ery one of those stones was fished out of the bottom of the stream 
 and carried up here in my arms. It didn't take me long either to 
 find out that there wasn't any steam heater at the bottom of that 
 water. Whew, wasn't it cold ! and didn't it make my hands ache ! 
 
130 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " The great trouble about our fireplaces up here is to prevent 
 them smoking. "We can't build them quite right, as we have to 
 take the stones just as we find them, and have no mortar. In some 
 of my camps the door has to be left open to make a strong 
 draught, or the fire will smoke you out. A couple of years ago I 
 thought I could get round that by putting in two hollow logs, one 
 end opening out-doors and the other opening at the hearth, so that 
 the} r would pour two five-inch streams of cold air into the fire. 
 They did the business, and I thought I had just hit the bull's-eye 
 sure. I hadn't any raised bunk in here then, the bed being a heap 
 of fir-boughs on the ground. There was a young country chap 
 with me trying to learn something about trapping. About three or 
 four nights after we fixed the hollow logs, when I was so proud of 
 the way they worked I could hardly sleep, I happened to open my 
 eyes. "What should I see by the light of the fire but a skunk walk- 
 ing about the premises, and taking stock of everything just as if it 
 was trying to make up its mind whether it wanted to buy the place 
 or not. I would have been glad just then to have made it a pres- 
 ent of the camp if it would only let me move out without making 
 any fuss about it. 
 
 " "Well, if you could only have seen that skunk — through a long 
 range telescope, that is — you would have been pleased. If a skunk 
 only acted as well as it looks, it would make a first-rate ladies' pet, 
 but it don't. First that skunk would poke its nose into a corner and 
 snuff round a while. Then it would come out, twist its head on 
 one side, and run its eye over the wall, as if it was wondering 
 whether the man who built it called himself a mason. Then it 
 would inspect the joiner-work about the door and the table, cock- 
 ing its head first on one side and then on the other, looking as 
 knowing as a horse-jockey. I knew our turn to be interviewed 
 would come soon, and perhaps I wasn't scared ! I was afraid the 
 skunk would run over the lad and wake him, and that then he 
 would jump, or do something of that kind. If that happened I 
 knew there'd be a regular "Waterloo, and that we wouldn't be the 
 victors either. 
 
 " "When the skunk wasn't looking, I quietly pulled my blanket 
 
A VISIT FROM A SKUNK. 
 
 131 
 
 up over my head, leaving only a little peek-hole to look out of, and 
 waited. By-and-by it got round to the bunk and began to take it 
 in. It walked over my legs and over the boy's legs two or three 
 times, then it came up on to my chest, and I began to think the 
 Day of Judgment had come. My, how still I did keep ! I held my 
 breath till it seemed that the next moment I would blow up with a 
 bang like a bomb -shell. How long this lasted I can't say. It 
 seemed like a week, but I hardly think it was really quite as long 
 as that. Well, by-and-by, when I was just about in a state of cold 
 collapse, it walked up to the hole in one of the draught logs and 
 
 crawled in. The minute I saw its tail disappear I was up as if I had 
 been shot out of a gun, grabbed the first thing I could see, which 
 was my hat, shoved it into the hole in the log, and roared for the 
 lad to turn out and light the lamp. 
 
 " It took quite a little while to make him understand what was 
 up, he was so dazed with sleep. When he had at last got his wits 
 together and lit the lamp, I made him go out and get some damp 
 chips and rake some live coals together on the hearth. All this 
 time I was holding my hat in that hole for dear life. When every- 
 thing was ready I shovelled up the coals on an old piece of tin I 
 
132 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 had, took out my hat, popped the coals into the hole in the draught 
 log, put the wet chips on them, and began to fan them with my hat 
 so as to drive the smoke down the hole to smoke the skunk out. 
 In a few minutes I began to think I smelled burned hair. Then I 
 could hear the skunk coughing and sneezing, the sound gradually 
 working down the log until at last it stopped. I waited a while, 
 and hearing nothing more, poured water in the hole to put the fire 
 out. I then had the boy light that lantern you see up there with a 
 reflector in it, which we call a jack-lamp, and told him to take a 
 three-cornered stick of firewood, and go round outside and push it 
 into the hole in the draught log. This would let air in, but keep 
 the skunk out if it took the notion to make us another call, as I 
 thought likely. I warned him to be careful to see the skunk had 
 gone before he went near the log. Now, the boy had come up to 
 learn trapping, and he was so swollen with zeal that the buttons 
 would hardly stay on his shirt. What did that idiot do but drop his 
 stick of firewood, pick up a trap he saw lying outside, set it in the 
 mouth of the draught log, and chain up the trap to a bush growing 
 alongside the cabin. While he was doing that I fortified the other 
 log, and when he got back we turned in again, I without a suspi- 
 cion of what he had been up to. 
 
 " Next morning when I awoke the boy was still snoozing away as 
 innocent as a lamb. I thought I'd turn out and get breakfast, and 
 let him sleep till it was ready, he seemed so comfortable. Just as I 
 was going to move the rattle of a chain struck my ear. Now, there 
 wasn't a chain except a trap-chain within fifty miles, and when a 
 trap-chain rattles that generally means that something is rattling 
 it. You may believe it made me prick up my ears mighty sharp. 
 It didn't take me long to find out that the sound was inside the 
 camp. I got up on my hands and knees, and was just going to 
 get on my feet to investigate, when I was almost paralyzed to see 
 the back of that skunk under the fir-boughs of the bunk not more 
 than four feet from me. It was all plain enough then. The boy 
 had trapped it, and when it found it couldn't get away it had 
 burrowed under the side of the cabin and up among the fir-boughs 
 which made our bed. The bed had been used a long time, and 
 
A VISIT FROM A SKUNK. 
 
 135 
 
 had been boughed down fresh pretty often, so that it was maybe 
 a foot or so thick. Into this the skunk had burrowed as far as the 
 chain of the trap would let him, and there he was in plain sight, 
 the top of his back under not more than three or four inches of 
 small dry twigs. 
 
 " I don't know when I have been so taken aback. If the skunk 
 
 A TRAPPER S CABIN. 
 
 rose in its wrath, it would lift up the twigs and be right in among 
 us. Though it had behaved like a gentleman and a scholar so far, 
 a skunk is not an animal to excite much confidence in any one who 
 knows it. It isn't often that I am at a loss what to do in the woods, 
 but this time I was puzzled. I finally concluded to cut a pointed 
 stake, put some food and water outside to coax the skunk out, and 
 then to watch. If it went out, then I could jam the stake down 
 and block the hole so that it couldn't get back. 
 
136 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " I went outside and cut my stake. When I came back there 
 lay the boy still fast asleep. I stirred him up. ' Did you set a trap 
 for that skunk V I asked. ' Yes,' he answered, ' have I got it V with 
 a grin of delight on his face as though he had won the first prize in 
 a big lottery. ' Yes,' I said, ' you've got it fast enough ; and now 
 that you have got it, what are you going to do with it? It rather 
 strikes me that you have got us too. Come here and take a look.' 
 He took one glance, and his face changed as though some one had 
 poured cold water down his back. His interest in that skunk was 
 gone. 
 
 " I was just going to tell him to take some meat and water out- 
 side, when the skunk, frightened perhaps at the sound of our voices, 
 crawled back through its hole. As soon 'as it was outside I jammed 
 down the stake in front of it, and told the boy to hold it down for 
 dear life. I didn't dare to drive it with my axe, as I would have 
 liked to do. Then I got a long pole and drove a nail into it, took 
 my rifle, and climbed up on the roof of the camp. It was a scene 
 for an artist. There I was, sprawled out at full length on the cabin 
 roof, with just one eye over the edge, hooking away with the pole 
 at the chain of the trap, trying to get it loose so the skunk could go 
 off. I had to be mighty careful about it, too, for fear I'd hurt the 
 skunk ; for while it was so close to camp I had a great regard for 
 its feelings. 
 
 " I guess it took me at least half an hour to get that chain loose, 
 and then I had to wait another half-hour before the skunk would 
 make up its mind that it was free and could go away. Finally it 
 walked off, and when it was at a safe distance I shot it. You'd 
 better believe that when I had finished with that skunk and had 
 my trap again, I felt as though I'd been through the wars and was 
 the only man of my regiment left alive. 
 
 " Whew, what a long yarn I've spun ! Now, Dick, you tell us 
 what you know about the boundary, and we'll call it a day and 
 turn in." 
 
 AVhile the trapper had been telling his story a substantial meal 
 had been prepared and eaten, and everything made ready for the 
 night. The trapper and Harry threw themselves down on the bunk, 
 
IN THE BOUNDARY KANGE. 
 
HOW OUR NORTH-EASTERN BOUNDARY WAS LOCATED. 139 
 
 while Dick took his place before the fire on "the deacon's seat," and 
 began. 
 
 " As I never heard the story but once, I can't remember it all, 
 but it was something like this : 
 
 " The original treaty acknowledging the independence of the 
 United States was made in 1783. It described the boundary which 
 should divide the United States from the British possessions. The 
 boundary line was to run from the north-west angle of Nova Scotia. 
 What was then known as Nova Scotia included a part of what is 
 now known as New Brunswick. In order to fix this angle, the treaty 
 directed that a line should be run due north from the source of the 
 St. Croix Kiver to the highlands which divide the streams that flow 
 into the St. Lawrence River from those that flow into the Atlantic 
 Ocean. This seems all very plain and simple. But unfortunately 
 three different rivers had been called the St. Croix, and each of them 
 was well provided with branches, each of which branches had a 
 source. It was found impossible to agree upon which of these 
 three rivers was the St. Croix of the treaty, to say nothing of the 
 various sources. The British tried to levy taxes, and arrested 
 American settlers in the disputed territory, which naturally made 
 the Maine people very angry. So there was one constant quarrel 
 over the boundary from the ocean to Vermont. We claimed almost 
 to the St. Lawrence River. They claimed a great part of Maine. 
 The feeling on both sides was very bitter. Finally, in 1842, they 
 sent over Lord Ashburton, who was known and liked here, to set- 
 tle the matter. The English story was that just before Lord Ash- 
 burton came over, Mr. Sparks, the American historian, found among 
 the papers of the French Government a letter written by Benjamin 
 Franklin, which referred to a map on which he had marked the 
 boundary line agreed on when the treaty was made. Mr. Sparks 
 was said to have found the map. On it the boundary was marked 
 with a red line exactly as the British claimed it. Mr. Sparks was 
 said to have sent a copy of the map and letter to Daniel Webster, 
 who kept them under lock and key. He was forced to use them, 
 however, though secretly, to make our Senate confirm Lord Ash- 
 burton's treaty, which gave seven-twelfths of the disputed territory 
 
140 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 to us, and five-twelfths to Great Britain. The English Government 
 found this out, or believed they had found it out, only after the 
 
 treaty was signed. 
 Our people have, I be- 
 lieve, always claimed 
 that Mr. Sparks's map 
 was made and marked 
 long before the Kevo- 
 lution, and referred to 
 some old French claim, 
 and that it was not 
 and could not be the 
 map referred to in the 
 Franklin letter. 
 
 " As soon as they 
 found this out, the 
 British Government 
 ordered a search for 
 the map and letter to 
 be made. No map 
 which could be that 
 referred to in the 
 Franklin letter could 
 be found. But anoth- 
 er old map was found 
 on which the bound- 
 ary line was marked 
 out in red just as we 
 claimed it. The peo- 
 ple of both countries 
 insisted that they 
 were cheated in this 
 treaty, poor Lord Ash- 
 burton being abused 
 in England like a pickpocket. That's all I know about it." 
 u lSow, Mr. Dant, you tell us what you know," said Harry. 
 
 ON TIIE WAY TO THE ST. LAWRENCE 
 
THE BOUNDARY LINE. 
 
 141 
 
 " Well, I don't know so very much. I know that this portion 
 of the line, from the head-waters of the St. John River almost to 
 the Vermont State line, goes wandering through this wilderness, 
 following the top of the ridge dividing the waters which flow into 
 the ocean from those flowing into the St. Lawrence River. When 
 they laid out the boundary, not long after 1812, they cut a lane 
 through the woods two rods wide the whole length of the line, 
 clearing every growing thing of any size out of it. They also set 
 up those iron monuments at intervals. It was a part of the lane 
 you saw from the top of that tree this afternoon, which you called 
 a road ; and you described it very well when you said that it 
 looked like a city street running between the houses. As is al- 
 ways the case when land is cleared of large forest-trees and then 
 left to nature, other kinds of trees spring up ; and it's the differ- 
 ence in appearance between the old forest and the second growth 
 which makes the line, from a distance, look like a road. It looks 
 the same in this respect from one end to the other, and I shouldn't 
 wonder if it continued to be just as unmistakable for a hundred 
 years to come. There, that's all I know about it. Now let's turn 
 in so that we can get an early start to-morrow." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Trailing a Wounded Deer. — "A Crack Shot." — Encounter with Caribou.— A Dead 
 Deer.— A Deer-sled— A Tump-line.— Coasting on a Deer. 
 
 A S they paddled up the stream the next morning to search for 
 -^-*- Dick's deer, the trapper, as was his custom, told them what 
 he proposed to do, and how they were to co-operate. 
 
 "I expect we will find that deer as dead as a door -nail," he 
 said. " Still, we ought to take all the chances. When deer think 
 they are pursued, they have a trick of taking a course shaped like 
 a fish-hook. They start at the end of the hook the fish-line would 
 be tied to, and go pretty straight till they think it's time to rest. 
 Then they turn round, and halt about where the point of the hook 
 
OVERLOOKING THE BOG VALLEY. 
 
TRAILING A WOUNDED DEER. 145 
 
 would be so that they can watch their back track. So, in still 
 hunting we don't follow on the exact trail more than enough to 
 be sure we are going right. In every kind of hunting I know 
 anything about, nine-tenths of the skill required lies in seeing your 
 game before it sees you ; the other tenth consists in putting the 
 bullet in a mortal spot when the chance to fire comes. 
 
 " But in following up a wounded animal, particularly now, when 
 there is no snow on the ground, this won't answer. I know where 
 it started from. There I will study its track until I can be pretty 
 sure to recognize it again; for I shall find hundreds of other tracks 
 crossing it in all directions, and it's only on that one particular trail 
 that there is anything for us. The wind, what there is of it, is all 
 right. Since I must lead, I'll carry the rifle, as it should be ready 
 to fire at once. As I said before, I expect to find the deer dead. I 
 also expect to see it before it sees me, if it isn't dead. But then 
 things don't always turn out just as we expect. If the deer is alive, 
 and I see it first, you, Dick, shall have the chance to finish it ; but 
 if it is alive, and sees or hears me before I see it, it may jump up to 
 run. In that case there will be no time to pass the rifle to you, and 
 I will have to shoot. Remember, not a word is to be spoken. Look 
 where you put your feet, and step on nothing that will crack or 
 make a noise. Don't let your clothes brush against the bushes. 
 You'll have plenty of time to be careful, for we will go very slow. 
 If I hold up my hand, stop where you are until I beckon for you to 
 come on. If I hold up my hand and then beckon at once, that 
 means that I see the deer, that it's alive, and that Dick is to come 
 up to shoot. Then, Dick, take time and walk as though you were 
 stepping among eggs. But you, Harry, stay where you are. Two 
 are twice as likely to make a noise as one." 
 
 Ascending the branch of the stream, they landed where the 
 deer had stood. The trapper spent some ten minutes in careful 
 study of the deer's tracks. Each individual footprint was sepa- 
 rately and deliberately examined. Then throwing a cartridge into 
 the barrel of his repeating rifle, he ascended the low bank and en- 
 tered the bushes. The boys followed. In and among the bushes 
 paths ran in every direction — not the clear and open path of the 
 
 10 
 
146 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 settlement, for the stems of the bushes, often as thick as a man's 
 wrist, projected from either side across and mingled their branches 
 together over the narrow openings. Indeed they were apparent 
 
 ON THE BOG STREAM. 
 
 rather because the ground in them was bare of vegetation than 
 because they afforded an open way. In these lanes, if we may so 
 call them, the earth was carpeted with fallen leaves still damp from 
 the night air, or, where they had been swept away, bare ground 
 appeared. 
 
 There was no need to recall their recent lesson to decide that 
 these lanes were deer-roads, for they were literally trodden with 
 tracks, like a barn -yard. As the boys saw them running and 
 branching in every direction, hope sank within them. How could 
 even a hound follow one individual track among these hundreds ? 
 How much less one who must rely on sight alone to direct him ! 
 
 Still the trapper kept on ; slowly, it is true, often pausing, some- 
 times studying the ground keenly for two or three minutes or 
 more without advance, then resuming his way. The boys followed, 
 stopping when he stopped, moving forward when he set the exam- 
 ple, always mindful of his caution to make no noise. At length 
 they emerged upon the open bog, a level expanse dotted with isl- 
 ands of stunted spruce-trees, and covered with the same yellowish- 
 
TRAILING A WOUNDED DEER. 
 
 U" 
 
 gray water-soaked moss they had passed over the day before. The 
 forest-clad hills rose from its farther edge an eighth of a mile away. 
 
 The trapper paused, and beckoning the boys to approach, said 
 in a low tone : 
 
 " That deer was worse scared than I had hoped. It has crossed 
 the bog and taken to the woods. We're going to have a tough job. 
 I will go ahead as far as I 
 know I am right. Then when 
 I beckon, you come up and 
 hold that point for me, so that 
 if I have to try back I may 
 start again all right ; and so 
 on till we are across the bog. 
 Remember what I told you 
 yesterday, and keep clear of 
 bare ground and standing wa- 
 ter, or you may get mired, or 
 worse. If the bog waves under 
 you like thin ice, you needn't 
 be afraid. Though there is wa- 
 ter underneath, the surface on 
 which you stand is so matted 
 together with roots as tough 
 as twine that it'll hold you all 
 right. But it's as well to make 
 a sure thing of it, so keep, say, 
 ten or fifteen feet apart while 
 crossing such going ; that is, if 
 we find it." 
 
 " Have you seen any blood, 
 Mr. Dant % n whispered Harry. 
 
 " No, and I hardly expected 
 to, hit where that animal is hit. 
 
 So far I'm right all the same, but over this bog it's different, 
 trail of our deer will be plain enough, but so will every other 
 
 CAMP IN THE WOODS. 
 
 The 
 deer- 
 trail. This moss don't hold a sharp impression like soft earth, and 
 
148 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 it will only be at intervals that I'll find a track that I can be sure 
 is the one we want. I'll do my best, though, and if we fail, as we 
 may, it sha'n't be for lack of trying, anyway. Our deer stopped 
 
 running, and began to walk 
 about ten feet back. It 
 was beginning to feel pret- 
 ty sick then. It won't go 
 far after it gets to cover 
 again. If we can only car- 
 ry the trail across this bog 
 we'll be all right, but to do 
 that will take all I know, 
 and perhaps a little more. 
 However, there is a chance, 
 and as I told you before, in 
 hunting we must take all 
 the chances there are." 
 — The trapper then re- 
 
 sumed his task, the boys 
 watching him anxiously 
 from the edge of the bushes. He advanced al- 
 most foot by foot, hesitating frequently. Occa- 
 sionally he would stop altogether, and stooping 
 down, feel footprint after footprint with his fin- 
 gers. When some fifty yards had been so passed, 
 he beckoned the boys to approach ; and when 
 they had done so, pointed to a piece of compar- 
 atively firm and dry ground, and then moved on 
 without a word. 
 
 The boys examined the place the trapper had 
 indicated by his gesture. At least twenty dif- 
 ferent deer-tracks were plainly imprinted on it. 
 True, some were a little larger and others a little smaller. But 
 which, if any, had been made by their deer seemed to them a 
 hopeless riddle. Again they waited, and waited long. Twice the 
 trapper returned to where they w r ere standing, and without a word, 
 
 A TENANT OF THE 
 BOG. 
 
"A CRACK SHOT." 149 
 
 took up the trail afresh from that point. His thin lips were com- 
 pressed until but a straight line represented his mouth, and there 
 was a glitter in his keen eyes they had never seen before. He 
 would have been indeed but a careless observer who would not 
 have recognized in that face the face of one who would not accept 
 of failure where success was possible. 
 
 And so at last, when the patience of the bo} T s had long been 
 quite exhausted, they stood at the edge of the forest. Here the 
 trapper again left them, was gone about ten minutes, and then re- 
 turning, said in his natural tone of voice : 
 
 " I don't think it worth while to go any farther, boys. It's 
 tough luck, I know, to lose an animal this way, but it will happen. 
 We can go as far as I went, or a little farther if you like, though it 
 won't make much difference in the result." 
 
 He started on and they followed. 
 
 "Here's where I stopped,'' at length he said. "Never mind, 
 Dick, it was a good shot for the first time. I don't know that I 
 have seen a much more successful one — that is, for the first time. 
 I had a college student with me once, as nice a fellow as I ever 
 saw. It was at night, and we were in the boat just about where 
 you were when you' fired yesterday. We drove out a deer on to 
 the opposite bank, and it went on the jump too. He had a fifty- 
 calibre long-magazine Winchester rifle — one fit for a grizzly bear. 
 He brought that big rifle to his hip, not to his shoulder, and in 
 that dim, uncertain light, with that deer bouncing like an India- 
 rubber ball, he laid it out as stiff as a stake with a bullet through 
 its neck. Well, now, perhaps it didn't make me stare ! Here, 
 thought I, is the kind of a man to have along with you. If we 
 don't have all the game we want this trip, and to spare, it will 
 be strange. 
 
 " I gave that fellow at least fifty chances after that, every one 
 of them ever so much better, and he never touched hide nor hair 
 again. Oh, the things he used to do and not do, they were enough 
 to turn a man's hair gray. I'd just make up my mind he had done 
 all the foolishness that man could, when he would break out in 
 some fresh place, and pretty near paralyze me with wonder. We 
 
150 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 were camped over near a pond some four miles east of here. He 
 went alone to the pond one morning about sunrise, and saw three 
 caribou. The pond was about a quarter of a mile from camp, and 
 the caribou were on the other side of the pond from him. He 
 sneaked up to the edge of the water behind some bushes, and fired 
 all the cartridges he happened to have in the magazine of his rifle 
 at them — some four or five, I think. As usual, he missed every shot, 
 the caribou skipping round a good deal, bat not going off. That's 
 often the case when the pond is small and surrounded by big hills. 
 The game can't tell the shot from its echo, and if they can't scent 
 the danger they don't know which way to go. Well, that fellow 
 leaned his rifle against the bushes, and went back to camp for more 
 cartridges. He was bound to be fixed that time, so he took fifty, 
 told me what had happened, and we went back together. When we 
 got to the edge of the woods where we could look out, there stood, 
 within twenty-five feet of his ritle, and between us and it, as hand- 
 some a bull-caribou as I ever saw. 
 
 "But you are not of that kind, Dick, I know. Your shot was 
 much more successful than first shots generally are, and I congratu- 
 late you on it." 
 
 So saying, the trapper grasped Dick by the hand, and with some 
 little violence dragged him around to the other side of the clump of 
 bushes near which they had been standing. 
 
 " What do you say to that ?" he exclaimed. At their feet lay a 
 fine buck, stone-dead. 
 
 The sudden revulsion of feeling, from utter despair to the com- 
 plete realization of his hopes, was almost too much for Dick. With 
 open mouth and eyes, and with trembling lips, he gazed upon his 
 fallen prize as though struck dumb. 
 
 The trapper looked at him a moment with some surprise, and 
 then laying his hand on his shoulder, said : 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Dick, a thousand times. I see I've carried 
 my silly joke too far. I felt so good at finding it after the tough 
 work we had following it across the bog, that I didn't stop to think 
 that what might be fun to me would be none to you." 
 
 Dick turned instantly, and grasping the trapper's unoccupied 
 
THE DEER IS FOUND. 
 
 151 
 
 WE CAMPED NEAR A POM) ABOUT FOLK MILES FROM HERE. 
 
 hand in both of his, said : " Don't speak to me in that way, Mr. 
 Dant. How can I, how can we, ever thank yon for what you have 
 (J one — for what you are doing for us every day \ We came upon 
 you vagabonds, homeless and helpless, and you treat us as though 
 we were paying you ten dollars a minute instead of nothing but 
 thanks and promises." 
 
 " There, there, there," said the trapper, not a little moved. " Let's 
 call it square. You and Harry wait here, while I go to get the 
 
152 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 boat. I can bring it up to within about two or three hundred 
 yards. We'll load the deer aboard and take it down below the 
 camp and dress it. I don't like to dress an animal on the hunting- 
 ground, for the scent of the blood and offal will scare the game 
 away for a long time." 
 
 So saying, he disappeared. "When he returned, after the lapse 
 of half an hour, the boys had quite recovered their equanimity and 
 were overflowing with delight. 
 
 " It looks- as if it was going to give us all we wanted to do to 
 carry it down to the boat," said Dick, surveying his prize with ex- 
 treme satisfaction. 
 
 " If you grab it by one horn, Dick, and I by the other, and we 
 then pull together, I think it will follow." 
 
 Thus, with occasional halts to rest, they brought their game to 
 the water-side, Harry marching in front, singing, " Lo ! the conquer- 
 ing hero comes." Their undertaking came to an end where the 
 bank was but a few inches above the water. The boat was pulled 
 ashore, tipped upon one side so that it was close to the deer, and the 
 deer was rolled into it. The boat was then let down on to its bot- 
 tom and pushed into the water, with the deer on board. 
 
 " Well, I must say there's nothing like knowing how to do 
 things," exclaimed Harry, surprised to see how easily a task was 
 accomplished which he had supposed would tax their energies to 
 the utmost. 
 
 " Yes, it usually makes a difference," quietly replied the trapper. 
 
 As he paddled the boat down-stream, he asked, 
 
 " How did you think we were to carry that deer, Harry ?" 
 
 " I thought you'd sling it on a pole, or some such way. The last 
 thing I should have thought of would have been to skate it over 
 the ground as you did. I had no idea it would slide so easy." 
 
 " The body of a deer is not quite as slippery as the tricks it will 
 try to get the best of any danger which may threaten it, but it is 
 very nearly. Drag them head-first, so that they move with the 
 grain of the hair, and they can be pulled over even pretty rough 
 ground much easier than a person would suppose who had never 
 tried it. We sometimes slide downhill on them in winter." 
 
A DEER SLED. 
 
 153 
 
 Both boys were anxious to know all about it. 
 
 " I don't mean that we slide down, then drag them up, and then 
 slide down again, just for fun. I only mean that when taking a 
 deer to camp, if I come to a pretty steep and fairly clear hill I often 
 get astride of the carcass at the top and slide clown to the bottom. 
 Very good sleds, too, they make on a pinch. 
 
 THE EDGE OP THE WOODS. 
 
 " Eight or nine years ago, a man who went by the name of Billy 
 spent a winter trapping with me. He was a good deal older than I, 
 a real good trapper and first-rate woodsman. Like most middle- 
 aged men who have spent the greater part of their lives alone in 
 the woods, he was as queer a fellow as you'd find in a week's rail- 
 road travel. He never had tasted liquor or tobacco, tea or coffee, in 
 
154 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 his life, and you could rely on him to do anything that he thought 
 ought to be done as you could rely on the rising of the sun. We 
 used to separate every Monday morning at daybreak, each taking 
 his own route over his part of our trapping- lines, and not meet 
 again or see a living soul until the next Saturday evening. That's 
 the way trappers have to do ; going over a fresh line every day, 
 travelling from the first peep of dawn till the last gleam of light, 
 camping every night in a different place, and skinning every ani- 
 mal they have taken during the day, and stretching its skin be- 
 fore they sleep, if it takes till midnight. It's a hard life, a very 
 hard life, a harder life than anything I can say will give you an 
 idea of. 
 
 " You might suppose that a person who had a chance to talk but 
 once a week would keep it up pretty well then, and that's the way 
 I used to do. But as for Billy, he was like a post with a hole in it ; 
 beyond a grunt, I could hardly coax a sound out of him. I some- 
 times almost expected to hear his jaws creak like an old rusty gate, 
 he used them so seldom. This was his ordinary habit ; but when 
 he thought the time to talk had come, he had a gift of eloquence 
 that was fully as surprising as his usual silence. Let things go 
 wrong, or get him mad, and he was as peppery as he was good- 
 hearted, unselfish, and trustworthy, and at the top of his voice he 
 would pour out a stream of remarks, which he never learned at 
 Sunday-school, for fifteen minutes on end, or longer than that if 
 his wind held out. 
 
 " I am afraid I used to bother Billy more than I ought to have 
 done. He was as solemn as an owl, and not much more sociable. 
 If there was anything in this world he did hate it was any form 
 of skylarking. But as for me, when Sunday morning came and 
 I knew I would be warm and dry a whole day and night, with 
 nothing to do but to eat, sleep, mend my clothes, and be happy, if 
 we had had any kind of luck with our traps during the week I 
 used to feel mighty frisky. In those days, if there was any 
 froth in my bottle, the stopper didn't fit tight enough to keep it 
 in long. 
 
 " We had been off together after meat and shot a deer, and 
 
A TUMP-LINE. 
 
 155 
 
 took turns in towing it over the snow to camp with a tump- 
 line." 
 
 " What's a tump-line, Mr. Dant ?" asked Dick. 
 
 " It's a broad band of leather, with a moose - hide thong about 
 
 HEAD OF THE BOG STREAM. 
 
 eight feet long attached to each end of the band. The Indians use 
 them to pack with. They arrange a blanket with these thongs in 
 such a way that the load may be pursed up in it and tied. Indians 
 generally carry the load on their shoulders, with the broad part of 
 
156 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 the tump-line bearing against their forehead; but white men usu- 
 ally arrange the broad part over the chest, or over one shoulder 
 and under the opposite arm, changing from one to the other from 
 time to time when they feel like it. It has the advantage of a 
 knapsack, since it doesn't weigh anything and takes up so little 
 room when it is not needed, and it's useful for lots of purposes 
 besides packing ; but it makes the meanest kind of pack to carry, 
 it balances so badly. If it wasn't that I was off on another trail, 
 I'd tell you how Billy nearly hung himself with one. Perhaps I 
 will some time. 
 
 " Well, we were getting near camp, and as it was my turn, I was 
 in harness towing the deer. Billy, being unloaded, was some little 
 distance ahead. It was bitter cold, and the light, powdery snow lay 
 three feet deep or more through the woods. We were on snow- 
 shoes. We came to a steep hill, near the bottom of which was 
 our camp. The windfalls and bushes were weighed down and pret- 
 ty well covered with snow, and there lay the track of our snow- 
 shoes as if we had made it on purpose. It was just the place for a 
 slide ; so I rolled the deer on its back, got astride of it, pulled its 
 head up towards ray breast by its ears, called to Billy to clear the 
 road, and shoved off. 
 
 " I supposed Billy would step off one side and give me a show ; 
 but not he. He thought it was some of my foolishness ; and when 
 he once had that notion in his head, he wouldn't have looked round 
 or taken the slightest notice if the Emperor of all the Russias had 
 been roaring at him. I shouted to him the best I knew, but he was 
 right on his dignity, and pranced along, looking as square to the 
 front as if he was having his picture taken. I couldn't stop the 
 deer, and I couldn't steer it out of the trench made by our snow- 
 shoes. Either he must get out of the way, or something was bound 
 to happen. 
 
 " It did happen, and mighty quick too. The deer mounted his 
 snow-shoes, threw him down, ground him clean out of sight in the 
 floury snow, and rode right over his body down to the bottom of 
 the hill. As soon as the deer stopped and I could get off, I didn't 
 waste any time in explanations or apologies, but just lit out for the 
 
COLD COMFORT. 157 
 
 bush at my best gait. I have heard it said, ' There is a time for all 
 things.' When Billy's mad was fully up, it was time to move — not 
 talk. I knew mighty well I couldn't get much pleasure out of his 
 company — just then, at any rate — and had better make myself 
 scarce. 
 
 " As I was making for cover, the woods and hills fairly echoed 
 with his remarks. I stuck it out in the woods until I was as hungry 
 as a wolf and as cold as a frog. It must have been pretty near nine 
 o'clock at night when I sneaked back, thinking he'd be asleep, and 
 that I could let the supper go, and turn in mighty quiet so as not to 
 disturb him. But he was laying for me. I'd no sooner stuck my 
 nose inside the door than he jumped for me. I didn't wait for any 
 foolishness, but got out of there as quick as I knew how. He chased 
 me, but he didn't stand a show while I had my snow-shoes on and 
 he had none. He soon found that out and stopped. Then he began 
 to talk to me in a way fit to make a man's hair curl. He'd give it 
 to me for a while, and then make a dive to catch me. Then he"d 
 stop, give me some more of his opinion of the kind of chap I was, 
 and then make another dive, and so on. By -and -by he was so 
 clean pumped out that he couldn't say another word. Then I 
 began. My ! how I did talk to him ! butter wouldn't melt in 
 my mouth. I said everything I could think of to smooth matters 
 over; and when I couldn't think of anything more, I began back 
 at the beginning and said it all over again. I offered, if he would 
 help me, to drag that deer right then up to the top of the hill, 
 and that he might ride me down if he liked — anything and every- 
 thing for peace. I didn't tell him that I knew he'd cut it up hours 
 before. ' Speech is silver, silence is gold,' is another of the good 
 things I've heard. 
 
 " Finally, either my persuasions or the cold — for the thermom- 
 eter must have been more than twenty degrees below zero — paci- 
 fied him and peace was declared. Still, until he turned in I took 
 precious good care to keep between him and the door of the camp 
 that night." 
 
 " He must have looked funny when he first dug himself out of 
 the snow," said Harry. 
 
158 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " That's what I thought when I got to the bottom of the hill," 
 replied the trapper; "but the fun for me was all gone out of it 
 long before a treaty of peace was made. If the thing was to have 
 been done over the next day, I would have been right glad to trade 
 places with him. The way it turned out, if there was any laugh at 
 all in it, it was on his side, not mine. It was mighty cold comfort 
 that I got out of that Sunday." 
 

 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Venison.— The Trapper's Refrigerator; its Lock and Key.— Beaver.— Beaver Dams, 
 — Beaver Food. — The Beaver's House. —The Beaver's Food -pile. — The Boat 
 Thieves. 
 
 T3EL0W the camp boat-landing, where the trapper and his cora- 
 -*^ panions went to dress their deer, the character of the stream 
 changed. Rocks appeared above its surface, the current quick- 
 ened, the protruding stones became more frequent, until at length 
 the brown water, so smooth and oily above, broke into foam, and 
 took its way to the sea through the overarching evergreen forest, 
 a narrow, raging mountain torrent. 
 
 Having converted the deer into venison, they returned with it 
 to the camp boat-landing. 
 
 " If you would like to see my refrigerator," said the trapper, 
 
160 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " take a load of meat and come along." He led them a short dis- 
 tance. There a strong stream, a yard or so wide, burst from under 
 an abrupt forest-covered bank, and ran into the bog stream about 
 thirty feet distant. Near its source its bed had been enlarged, deep- 
 ened, and stoned up, until it appeared like a well, into which the 
 water flowed on one side and escaped at the other. " Put your 
 hand in that water for a minute," said the trapper. Both boys 
 did so. 
 
 " Whew !" exclaimed Harry, withdrawing his hand and squeez- 
 ing it with the other. " I never did see such freezing water. It 
 makes my hand fairly ache, it's so cold." 
 
 " That's where the refrigerator comes in," replied the trapper. 
 " Put your meat into the well and get the rest of it, while I go up 
 to the cabin for my lock and key to lock it up." As the boys were 
 bringing the last of the venison, the trapper returned, bearing in his 
 hand a white rag the size of a small handkerchief. 
 
 " We'll first cut off our dinner," he said, " and then we'll make 
 our meat-safe burglar-proof." Having selected what he wished for 
 immediate use, he fastened the white rag to a bush in such a man- 
 ner that it hung spread out to its full extent immediately over the 
 well. "There! There's nothing to disturb our meat in this coun- 
 try except wild animals, and as long as that rag waves, the Treas- 
 ury of the United States isn't more safe from robbers than our re- 
 frigerator will be. That white rag is my lock and key, and a safe 
 and sure one it is, too." 
 
 " How long will the meat keep there, Mr. Dant ?" asked Dick. 
 
 " I have kept it there for over three weeks, when the weather 
 was much warmer than now. The outside gets white and a little 
 stringy, it's true, long before, but that I don't use. The inside, 
 though, will be as sweet as a nut for three weeks and more, at any 
 rate. I never tried it longer." 
 
 Dinner was next prepared. The first vigor of his appetite ap- 
 peased, Dick said : " This venison doesn't taste like that we get at 
 home ; and then, it's as tender as can be. I have always heard that 
 venison had to be quite ancient before it was fit to eat, but it seems 
 to me this could hardly be better." 
 
MAINE VENISON. 
 
 161 
 
 " Yes, 1 ' said Harry, 
 " I've noticed the same 
 thing. There's a sort of 
 strong, queer taste about 
 venison at home that this 
 at all." 
 
 " You are not the only persons 
 I have heard say that. Whether 
 our deer are naturally better than 
 
 those sent to market, or whether it's because market venison has 
 been run to death with hounds, I can't say ; though I suspect 
 that hounding has a good deal to do with it. I don't think any 
 11 
 
 BELOW THE BOG CAMP. 
 
162 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 meat that has been half run and half scared to death is fit 
 to eat." 
 
 " Then you don't approve of hunting deer with dogs ?" 
 
 "Well, no — not in this country, anyway. It may be all right 
 in some region where the conditions are different, but here it's 
 against the law, and a good law it is too, I think. But there's one 
 kind of hunting deer with dogs that I don't see how any man who 
 calls himself a gentleman or a sportsman can try more than once : 
 that is, to put a lot of hounds into the woods near a lake, while the 
 hunters watch the water from ambush. When a deer hears the dogs 
 howl, as they do as soon as they strike a fresh scent, its instinct is 
 to go for water. It enters the lake and tries to put it between itself 
 and the dogs. The hunters wait until the deer is too far from shore 
 to get back before they can reach it, and then chase it in a boat. 
 The poor animal hasn't the ghost of a chance for its life. They 
 don't even shoot at a distance in which it is possible to miss, for the 
 deer, if killed, would sink. They run up alongside in the boat, one 
 man holds the poor thing by the tail, while another blows its brains 
 out, or kills it with a knife or club. I know there are some who call 
 this kind of thing sport, but if they are right, then the butcher who 
 runs a slaughter-house is a sportsman." 
 
 " By-the-way, Mr. Dant, you didn't tell us what carried off the 
 boat when it was missing. You seemed sure the rope had been cut, 
 and sure that the boat hadn't been taken by man. Did the rope 
 chafe off against something, so that it looked as if it was cut ?" 
 
 " Xo ; the rope didn't chafe off. It was cut, fast enough. I 
 found out what did it as soon as I looked at the boat : it was 
 beavers." 
 
 " Beavers !" exclaimed Dick. " Are there really live beavers 
 here?" 
 
 " Yes ; there's one family of six on this stream," replied the 
 trapper. 
 
 " Have they houses here, and dams ? and have they cut down 
 trees, and all that kind of thing ?" asked Dick. 
 
 " Yes. Here's as good a chance to study beaver as any place I 
 know of just now. This bog is a very old beaver settlement. I 
 
BEAVER. 163 
 
 think at one time they had a dam somewhere down near where we 
 dressed the deer, which kept all these bogs flooded. I can't account 
 for all the 'dead tamaracks along the stream any other way. They 
 must have grown under about the same conditions we see now ; and 
 since they are all of about the same size, they must all have been 
 killed about the same time. A beaver -dam that kept the water 
 steadily up over their roots would do it, and I think has done it. 
 There were traces of an old one down there when I first came 
 into this country." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Dant, I should so like to see a beaver at work ! I 
 would a good deal rather do that than shoot another deer, if I had 
 my choice this very minute," said Harry. 
 
 " "We won't shoot any more deer this trip, Harry," replied the 
 trapper, " unless one tries to stamp on our toes. We've come for 
 moose, and we'll get a moose if we can. But if we do, I am not 
 sure but you'll be sorry for it, because we will have to pack the best 
 part of it way back to the lake. It's against my principles to shoot 
 to waste. This country is just as good to-day for game and fur as 
 it was when I first came into it ; and if not the first man in here, I 
 was the first, at any rate, to range it as a steady thing. I've kept 
 it so by being careful never to disturb the game more than I could 
 help, and never killing anything except for actual use. 
 
 " As to seeing a beaver at work, I've tried to do it myself lots of 
 times, and have never succeeded, so I don't think your chance for 
 that is very good. Beaver don't cruise about much during the day- 
 time : all their work is done at night. They will do three times 
 more on a dark and rainy night than they will when the moon is 
 bright. I have sometimes thought that they felt safer when it was 
 dark, and so gave all their time to work ; but that when they 
 could see distant objects clearly, they fancied that they could be 
 seen as well, and that they then spent a good deal of time which 
 would have been given to work listening and watching for the ap- 
 proach of danger. They are a very timid animal. It's an easy 
 matter to tear a hole in one of their dams on a bright moonlight 
 night, and then hide to see what will happen. I've done it more 
 than once. As soon as the water begins to lower above the dam 
 
164 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 they know something is wrong there, and start to see what it is and 
 to mend it. But the very fact that something unusual has happened 
 makes them mighty suspicious, and they discover the watcher, and 
 clear out before they have done the first thing to satisfy his curi- 
 osity ; at least that's the way they have always treated me. Though 
 a beaver's eyesight is not very keen, its nose and ears are. and I've 
 never been able to get near enough to see by moonlight what was 
 going on without their finding me out. Though I cant promise 
 to show you a beaver at work, and probably won't show you a 
 beaver at all, we can spend the afternoon going over their works, 
 if you like, and I'll tell you what I know about them. You'll get 
 a pretty good idea of them that way." 
 
 Xothing more agreeable to the boys could have been suggested, 
 and they were soon on their way up the bog stream in the boat. 
 
 " Here we are at the main beaver dam," said the trapper at last. 
 " Jump out, boys, and look till you are tired." 
 
 The bog stream was here perhaps a hundred feet wide. A low 
 pile of brushwood extended straight across the stream, from the 
 western bank to a small island distant some twenty feet from the 
 eastern bank. The channel between the island and the eastern 
 bank was closed by another pile of brushwood, extending down- 
 stream at quite an angle with the direction of the longer pile. 
 
 " Is this thing a beaver dam, Mr. Dant V exclaimed Harry, in a 
 tone of great disappointment, and with an expression of no little 
 disgust. 
 
 " Yes, that's a beaver clam." 
 
 " But it's an old one all gone to pieces," suggested Dick. 
 
 " No, it's brand-new — just put in this last summer," replied the 
 trapper. 
 
 "But they are not all such shabby - looking things as this, are 
 they?" asked Harry. 
 
 " This is a very fair average specimen," answered the trapper. 
 ik I don't know that I could take you to one, and I know of a good 
 many, that would give you a fairer idea of them. I've seen bigger 
 and better, but they are not common. There used to be one up at 
 the head of this stream, a quarter of a mile long and nearly seven 
 

 
 
HOW BEAVER DAMS ARE BUILT. 167 
 
 feet high in the middle, but that was, by all odds, the biggest and 
 best I've ever seen. As I said before, this is a fair specimen. If 
 anything, it's rather above than below the average." 
 
 "Why, it's nothing but a long, narrow heap of alder - bushes, 
 piled into the stream sort of higgledy-piggledy, the butts sticking 
 up in the air, and the branch ends under water. The biggest of 
 them isn't much, if any, thicker than my wrist," said Harry. 
 
 " Yes, that's the way they always build them up here. In coun- 
 tries where there are no alders they very likely use some other kind 
 of brush ; but here alders always line the banks of our streams, and 
 so they always use them, I suppose because no other brush is so 
 handy. You see this dam is built on a hard, gravelly bottom, where 
 the water isn't over four inches deep. They always choose a hard 
 bottom and shallow water. The deepest water I ever knew them 
 to build a dam in was not over two feet, and that was the big dam 
 I spoke of before. We'll look at the place where it was by-and-by. 
 Then, too, they always choose a shallow place close below a deep 
 pool, if they can find it, just as they did here. 
 
 " They cut the alder-bushes on the banks in the neighborhood, 
 drag them into the water, and tow or push them down to the site 
 of the dam. There they place them so that the branch ends point 
 up-stream, and pack mud over them to keep them down. As near 
 as I can see, they let the butt ends take care of themselves pretty 
 much, for weighing down the branch ends with mud would make 
 the butt ends stick up in the air more or less, just as you see they 
 do. The upper side is always a solid, water-tight, sloping bank of 
 mud, grass, and small stones, as it is here ; while the down-stream 
 face of the dam is almost always — always, unless the dam has been 
 used and kept in repair for a great many years — just such a rough- 
 looking pile of brushwood as you see, all the bushes and poles ap- 
 pearing as though they had been pitched in almost anyway." 
 
 " I wouldn't have believed it," said Harry. " Why, I thought 
 they drove stakes, and wove branches in and out among them like 
 basket-work, until they had run two fences across the stream ; and 
 that then they packed grass and stuff in between until the space 
 was full, and then brought mud on their tails and plastered over the 
 
168 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 whole thing as nice and smooth as a mason could plaster it with a 
 crowel. Why, this thing does not raise the water over twenty 
 inches, or two feet at the outside. And then on top it's nothing 
 but poles and butts of alders sticking up in every direction, so that 
 the escaping water sifts through and between them instead of run- 
 ning over the dam. A farmers boy clearing a brush-patch, would 
 make as good-looking a dam as this if he only piled the bushes 
 he cut down long and narrow, and shovelled a little dirt up on 
 one side." 
 
 " I don't know where you city people get your ideas of beaver," 
 replied the trapper, " but if from books, they must be mighty queer 
 books. I never knew one yet to look at a beaver dam or house for 
 the first time without surprise and disappointment. As for driving 
 stakes, beavers can't any more do it than they can fly. They don't 
 carry mud and stuff on their tails. They couldn't if they tried, 
 because, though their tails are shaped a good deal like a trowel, still 
 the upper surface rounds too much. They are too short and thick 
 in the body to load themselves, and even if they got another beaver 
 to load them, such part of the cargo as didn't roll off would be 
 washed away before they had gone twenty feet through the water. 
 They always travel by water when they can, and all the mud they 
 get is from the bottom or right at the bank. As for plastering 
 mud with their tails, I won't say they don't do it, because I have 
 never seen them actually at work, as I told you before ; but I don't 
 believe they do it all the same. As far as I have ever been able 
 to see, the principal use they make of their tails is as a prop. A 
 great part of their work is done sitting up, using their fore-paws 
 as we use our hands. When in that position their tails are spread 
 flat on the ground and help to support them. Some think they use 
 their tails as a rudder, and also as a propeller, just as a man sculls a 
 boat with an oar. But if they do, it's only when they are swim- 
 ming entirely under water, for I've seen them swimming on the sur- 
 face often enough, and then they always carry their tails straight 
 out behind, not using them at all except perhaps occasionally to 
 steer, and even of that I'm not sure. As for the height to which 
 their dams raise the water, where there is one that raises the water 
 
THE BIG BEAVER DAM. 169 
 
 over two feet, there are fifty that raise it less than that. The big 
 dam I spoke of raised the water nearly, if not quite, seven feet ; but 
 then that stands alone among all the beaver dams I ever saw. 
 
 " Shall we be moving ?" 
 
 " Tell us first something more about the big dam before we go ; 
 that is, if you are not in a hurry, Mr. Dant." 
 
 " The afternoon's young yet," replied the trapper, " so we've 
 plenty of time. 
 
 " The stream where they built the big dam was, I should say, 
 about thirty feet wide and two feet deep. The banks were of mud, 
 quite straight up and down, and about four feet high. They built a 
 dam which raised the water to the level of the top of the bank. 
 When the water flowed over the banks it of course escaped round 
 the ends of the dam and ran back into the stream. They then 
 extended their dam right and left till it was almost, if not quite, 
 quarter of a mile long. I ought to say that these extensions were 
 nowhere over two feet high, and often not over six inches. The 
 only place where it raised the water seven feet was just the w T idth 
 of the stream, say from twenty-live to thirty feet. The alder poles, 
 of which the high part of the dam was mainly built, were pretty 
 well limbed off and laid parallel with the current, the butts down- 
 stream. These butt ends were laid even enough, so that the lower 
 face of the dam was pretty perpendicular, which gave the dam a 
 more finished appearance than any other I ever saw. Its up-stream 
 face was a sloping bank of mud, grass, and small stones, just like this 
 one, only bigger. As I said before, it was by long odds the finest 
 beaver dam I ever saw. It spoke well for the industry and am- 
 bition of the colony that built it, but it didn't strike me as showing 
 much judgment; for a dam thirty feet long, to bar the original 
 stream, would have given them a great deal better pond than they 
 are usually content with." 
 
 "Like Harry," said Dick, "I am dreadfully disappointed. I 
 didn't exactly look to see a dam of hewn timber and masonry, but I 
 did expect something very different from this. Then you don't 
 think the beaver is so very intelligent an animal, Mr. Dant ?" 
 
 " I hardly know how to answer that question. Sometimes I do, 
 
170 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 and sometimes I don't. In the big dam I think it's pretty clear 
 they did not foresee the result of their original dam, or they would 
 have been more moderate. Then, again, I remember a family of 
 eight beavers that moved in on a stream about six miles from nere. 
 You know beavers live chiefly on the bark of willow, poplar, and 
 white birch trees ; mainly on white birch in this country, because 
 it's the most plenty. They don't eat the paper-like bark of the 
 white birch that I use to light fires with, but the inner bark that 
 
 THE STONE DAM 
 
 lies between that and the wood. Well, there was white birch enough 
 near where they moved in to have supplied them for ten years. 
 They cut every stick of it the first year, nine-tenths of it to clear 
 waste. The next year they had to move elsewhere to find food; 
 that is, what I left of them." 
 
 " Then the beaver is really a very stupid animal," said Harry. 
 
 "No. I think that's running to the other extreme. You re- 
 member, Harry, where we lunched the first day you were with me, 
 where you saw, or rather didn't see, the caribou? Well, on that 
 
AT THE BEAVERS' HOUSE. 171 
 
 same stream, about two miles below, is a place we call the Stone 
 Dam. The river flows for some distance over a flat sheet of rock, 
 polished by the freshets of centuries, and drops perpendicularly 
 about three feet into a deep, dark pool below. It's a great place for 
 big trout, is that pool. At the average height of the stream the 
 water flows over this rock in a sheet about three inches deep. Now, 
 no dam the beavers could possibly build above the fall could begin 
 to make a pond that would compare in depth of water and extent 
 with the natural pool below it ; while the quantity of food-wood 
 and the trouble of getting it would be the same in either case. Yet 
 eight or nine years ago, a family of beavers put in a dam forty feet 
 long and two feet high upon this smooth, flat rock, about thirty 
 feet above the edge of the fall. How they ever made it stand 
 where a man could hardly keep his footing is almost as surprising 
 as their stupidity in building it at all ; but they did. The fact that 
 it curved some ten feet up-stream partly accounts for this, but not 
 for the fact that they succeeded in making a water-tight joint be- 
 tween their dam and the polished rock. 
 
 " Then, again, when beavers live in alder swamps, as they often 
 do, they may build a half-dozen or more short dams from knoll to 
 knoll to make a pond of satisfactory size. Though these knolls 
 may be riddled with holes left by the decay of roots and other 
 causes, though fallen trees and snags may cut the line of their dam 
 at almost every angle, they plug the holes and build round the trees 
 and snags till all leakage is stopped, a thing no man could do with- 
 out digging an extensive foundation. 
 
 " But come, I think we'd better be moving." 
 
 After pulling the boat over the beaver dam, they embarked on 
 the placid pool above and proceeded up-stream. They had gone 
 but a short distance — not over thirty yards — when the trapper 
 headed the boat to the bank and whispered to the boys : 
 
 " There's the beaver house. Land as quietly as you can, put 
 your ear down close to the top of it, and then pound on it with 
 your fist and listen." 
 
 The boys did so. 
 
 " Did you hear anything ?" 
 
172 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 BEAVER HOUSES. 
 
 " Yes," replied Dick. " I heard something moving about below 
 us." 
 
 " That was the beavers clearing out. They always leave home 
 when any one calls on them as you did. They have sense enough, 
 anyway, to have more than one place of safety in which to pass the 
 dav. Besides their house, they have a number of different holes 
 
HOW BEAVER HOUSES ARE BUILT. 173 
 
 where the bank is steep and the water deep close to it. These 
 holes open far enough below the surface so they will not be closed 
 by ice in winter. They ascend gradually for from ten to twenty 
 feet until within a few inches of the surface of the ground, usually 
 under the roots of some tree. There they have a living-room, get- 
 ting air from the top through an opening protected by the roots. 
 Beavers that live on lakes or deep ponds or streams build no 
 dams, and sometimes build no houses above ground, but live in 
 such holes in the bank altogether. Though we call them ' bank 
 beavers,' they are exactly the same animals as the dam beavers. 
 Here you see they show some sense in adapting themselves to cir- 
 cumstances." 
 
 "I don't think much more of their house than I did of their 
 dam," said Harry, as he gazed upon a conical pile of poles about ten 
 feet in diameter and four feet high, situated between the trunks of 
 some small tamarack trees. These poles were well limbed off, from 
 two to ten feet long, the thickest about two inches in diameter. If 
 a farmer had carelessly made a pile of that size and shape of his 
 bean poles, it would not have looked very different. 
 
 " A beaver house isn't a four-story brown-stone front," said the 
 trapper, " but the apple that looks best on the outside isn't always 
 the best tasting. If we tore it open you would think better of it. 
 But that would never do, for then they'd all clear out from here to 
 no one could tell where. I have about thirty-five to forty dollars 
 on deposit there, waiting for me to draw it out when the ice begins 
 to be thick and fur is at its very best. If we should disturb the 
 house, we'd break the bank. But I can tell you just how they are 
 built and arranged inside, if you like." 
 
 " I should like it very much," said Dick ; " And I too," added 
 Harry. 
 
 " They choose a place above their dam where the ground is but 
 a few inches higher than the water-level, and where the bank is 
 steep, so that the doors may be in deep water. They seem to have 
 sense enough to know that the entrance must be so far below the 
 surface of the water that the ice will never freeze down to it ; for if 
 it did it would lock them up in their houses to starve to death. If 
 
174 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 they can't find a place where the water is deep enough close to the 
 bank, they will dig a regular ditch on the bottom in which the 
 water will be deep enough. At the bottom of the bank end of the 
 ditch will be the entrance to the house. The other end will be in 
 deep water. The place having been decided on, they arrange to- 
 gether a number of poles free from limbs, so that the butts rest on 
 the ground in a circle, while the small ends meet in the middle like 
 an Indian wigwam. The way they take advantage of the crooks 
 in the poles, or any other little thing of the kind, to make the 
 inner ends support one another so as to form the roof of their 
 house shows more mechanical common -sense than a good many 
 men have. They pile mud, grass, and short sticks on top of these 
 poles to a thickness of two feet or more, except at the top. A 
 space six or eight inches wide is left there for an air-hole, which 
 is crossed in every direction by sticks and poles, but without any 
 mud. 
 
 " Two years ago I opened one where a family of four had lived. 
 The living-room was four and a half feet long, three feet wide, and 
 eighteen inches high. The grass beds of the family could easily be 
 seen, the father's at one end, the mothers on one side, the two chil- 
 dren's opposite. In the middle was the dining-room, its floor about 
 three or four inches above the water. Two holes led from it into 
 the water, one steep and crooked, and one straight and more slop- 
 ing so that they could bring in their food -wood conveniently. 
 These two holes opened under water at different places quite a lit- 
 tle distance apart. 
 
 " When ice begins to form regularly overnight they begin to 
 lay in their winter stock of food-wood. They fell the trees ashore, 
 cut them up into lengths as big as they can handle, pull, push, and 
 roll them into the water, and float them down to near their house, 
 where they pile them up in deep water. Some think they waterlog 
 the wood in some mysterious way so that it will sink. I'm not very 
 fond of mysteries where any other reasonable explanation can be 
 found. It has always seemed to me that they piled the pieces on 
 top of one another or pushed them under, until the weight of the 
 pile itself was enough to sink it to the bottom. At any rate, these 
 
BEAVERS' PROVISION EOR WINTER. 
 
 175 
 
 wood-piles always stick up above the ice ; and as that part as well 
 as what is frozen in is lost to them, it seems to me that this apparent 
 waste of labor is really necessary, and has for its object to sink the 
 rest of the wood-pile below the ice-level. A family of four beavers 
 will put in a store of food-wood irregularly circular in shape, ten to 
 twelve feet in diameter and four or five feet high. The sides will 
 
 IN AN OLD MEAVER-WORKS. 
 
 be pretty well straight up and down, and the wood will be packed 
 together close enough to bear a man's weight. As long as the 
 weather is severe, all the work they do is to go from their house to 
 the wood-pile, cut off a piece, bring it in, eat off the bark, and carry 
 the wood part out again. But let a thaw come, and they will bur- 
 row to the surface through four or five feet of snow, and work as 
 
176 CITY BOYS IX THE WOODS. 
 
 only beavers can work getting in fresh food-wood until another cold 
 snap comes. 
 
 " But suppose we go and see where these gentlemen are forag- 
 ing now." 
 
 Ascending the stream still farther, they turned up the branch on 
 the bank of which the trail from the lake ended, and landed at the 
 place from which the boat had been missing at their arrival. As 
 they- stood on the bank the trapper said : 
 
 " Xow you'll understand what carried off our boat. This is the 
 beavers 1 highway to and from their food-ground. You see the boat 
 is too long to swing round with the wind, and as the wind is doAvn 
 the bog most of the time, it generally lay right across the stream, 
 barring it from side to side. The beavers, passing up and down 
 with their wood, found the way completely blocked by the boat, 
 tried to move it, found it was tied, landed, cut the rope, and pushed 
 it out of the way. When it lodged below and bothered them again, 
 they pushed it down farther, until at last they worked it out into 
 the main stream. There I suppose the wind and current took it 
 down to the dam. 
 
 " You look, Harry, as if you thought this rather a tough story 
 to swallow, but it's true all the same. I only judge that the beavers 
 are working now up this stream, rather than some of the other 
 branches, from the fact that the boat was carried away, and you'll 
 see that we'll find it so. There, look at those marks on the boat : 
 they are the marks of beaver teeth. There's no mistaking them 
 when you've once seen them, as you yourself will say before we 
 come back." 
 
 " That doesn't look very stupid to me, Mr. Dant," said Dick. " To 
 study out why they couldn't move the boat, to find that it was held 
 by something on land and not in the water, and then to go ashore 
 and fasten on the rope as the cause and cut that, looks to me a good 
 deal like reason. A man couldn't have done better, except he might 
 have untied the rope instead of cutting it." 
 
 " That's why beavers are such a puzzle," replied the trapper. 
 " First, they'll do the stupidest things, like building that big dam ; 
 or working themselves nearly to death, only to bring famine on 
 
WHO STOLE THE BOAT? 
 
 177 
 
 them ; or put in a dam where it is of no earthly use. Then you'll 
 think they haven't any more sense than a rabbit. But when you 
 stop to consider, you'll find that the best engineer couldn't have 
 planned the dam better, or even as well, for that place, or you'll 
 run against something of this kind. Then you begin to think they 
 have as much sense as a man. If they could only be watched when 
 at work, so as to learn the way they go at it, it would be different ; 
 but the trouble about that is, that as long as you watch they won't 
 work, as I told you before. 
 
 " How they do their work — whether one plans and bosses the 
 job, and the others do as they are told, or whether each works on 
 his own hook guided by instinct alone — there may be those who 
 know, but I've never seen them, and I've been among beaver-works 
 and beaver-trappers a good many years. I've seen plenty who'd 
 talk as if the king of the beavers had told them all about it, but 
 when you've got right down to the foundation it would all turn out 
 to be nothing but guesswork. 
 
 " Now let's go and see if we can find where they are working." 
 
 12 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Beavers' Work.— Beavers' Teeth.— How Beavers Fell Trees.— Beaver Canals.— The 
 Personal Appearance of the Beaver. — Habits of the Beaver. — A Chance Encoun- 
 ter.— The Trapper's Fruit-tree.— Trapping Beavers.— Setting Beaver-traps.— The 
 Front-leg Set— The Hind-leg Set.— Midwinter Trapping. 
 
 'T^HE trapper led the way up along the stream, crossed where he 
 -*- did when in search of the missing boat, and then kept on up 
 the other bank. 
 
 " When I saw you go over after the boat yesterday," said Dick, 
 "I supposed it was on a pile of drift-wood. I now see it's another 
 beaver dam." 
 
 " Yes," replied the trapper, " it's an old dam repaired this year 
 to back up the water above, so that the beavers can sluice their 
 wood easier. That's the way they do it. Sometimes one family 
 will build half a dozen dams, one above the others on a small 
 stream, each one backing the water up to the foot of the one above 
 it. You see that this dam is built just like the other, though it is 
 so much shorter. But here we are. I thought we wouldn't have 
 
BEAVERS' WORK. 
 
 179 
 
 to go far. What do you think of this tree for a specimen of 
 beavers' work ?" 
 
 " You don't mean to say beavers cut down this tree, Mr. Dant ?" 
 said Dick. " Why, it's fifteen or sixteen inches in diameter, and it's 
 a hard-wood tree, too." 
 
 " Yes, it's a white birch tree, and the beavers felled it just as you 
 see it. Not only this, but here are the chips left from their work. 
 No tree is too big for them to fell if they wish to. Let's confine 
 our attention now to this stump. You see it is cut off twenty 
 inches or so above the ground, and has been gnawed in a wide 
 groove all the way around the trunk until the tree has fallen, 
 leaving that part which had not been cut through slivered and 
 broken. Notice, too, that the cut end of the stump has the shape 
 
 CUT SURFACE OP BIRCH LOU. 
 
 of a cone nearly as high as the tree is thick. Now look at the 
 cut surface. You see it is scored all over with marks, as though 
 it had been cut by two nearly flat gouges about a quarter of an 
 inch wide held side by side. ■ Those are the marks of the beavers' 
 teeth, and, as I told you, once seen can hardly be mistaken for any- 
 thing else afterwards. You see that some of these marks are a lit- 
 tle narrower than others. That means that two different animals 
 worked on the tree. By looking over this ground for half an hour 
 or so, I could tell just how many beavers make up this family, if I 
 didn't already know. Now you can examine the chips." 
 
 Each boy picked up a handful from the quantities which lay 
 around the stump, and after studying them some time, Harry said : 
 
 " Well, I declare I would hardly have 'believed it possible. I 
 
180 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 supposed beavers gnawed as rats gnaw, and that their chips were 
 coarse sawdust like that made by rats. But here's a chip two 
 inches and a half long, an inch wide, and a quarter of an inch thick, 
 and there are any quantity more which 
 are nearly, if not quite, as large. The 
 smallest are at least an inch square and 
 an eighth of an inch thick. They must 
 have uncommon teeth and lots of muscle 
 to drive them, to do such work and in 
 such hard wood too." 
 
 "I expected one of you would say 
 something of that kind about beavers' teeth," 
 said the trapper, " because everybody does. 
 A couple of months ago I found the skull of 
 a beaver I had trapped the year before, and 
 brought it to camp for a gentleman who 
 wanted to take it home. He forgot it when 
 he left. So I thought it might be a good idea 
 to slip the skull in my pocket when we started 
 up here, so that } T ou could see the marks of 
 the beavers' teeth and the teeth that made 
 them at the same time. It's a very good 
 skull for our purpose, because it has been ex- 
 posed to the weather until the cutting teeth 
 are quite loose, so that they can be pulled out 
 and put back without any trouble. See how 
 strong and thick the bones of the jaws are. 
 " The teeth of a beaver are built on what I call strictly scientific 
 principles. The best tools of the best tool-maker require the grind- 
 stone once in a while when they become dull from use. But the 
 more a beaver's teeth are used the sharper they become. You see 
 that almost all of the tooth is made up of comparatively soft bone, 
 not harder than a deer's horn. But the outside surface of the tooth 
 consists of a scale not thicker than your thumb nail, and as hard as 
 glass. Of course the softer body of the tooth wears with use much 
 more than the hard enamel. The end of the tooth, therefore, takes 
 
 CHIP CUT BY BEAVER 
 (NATURAL SIZE). 
 
BEAVERS' TEETH. 
 
 181 
 
 BEAVER S SKULL. 
 
 a bevel like a chisel, with a thin, slightly projecting cutting edge 
 as sharp as any carpenter's tool when just off an oil-stone." 
 
 "Why, these beavers' 
 teeth are not very sharp, Mr. 
 Dant," said Dick. 
 
 " That's because the edges 
 were broken off by the bea- 
 ver on the trap when it was 
 caught. They always do that 
 if they are not drowned very 
 soon after they are nipped. 
 But before that beaver began 
 on the cold steel, you may 
 rely on it that his teeth had 
 a really first - class edge. 
 
 Then notice, too, how the softer tough bone slopes up to the 
 cutting edge, so as to back it up and give it strength. 
 
 " Now, you see that about an inch of the upper cutting teeth is 
 outside the skull. Now I'll pull them out of their sockets. You 
 see that each tooth makes about half of a circle, so that if the ends 
 of a right and a left tooth are put together, a complete circle like a 
 thin ivory napkin-ring is formed. You see, too, that besides the inch 
 outside a length of tooth is buried in the socket 
 in the upper jaw, which around the curve would 
 measure over three inches. Now I'll put them 
 back, and pull out the lower 
 cutting teeth. You notice 
 that they project a little more 
 beyond the bone, have a very 
 much flatter curve, and are 
 embedded in the jaw at least 
 five inches. There is another 
 curious thing to be noticed 
 about these teeth. You see 
 the root is hollow. I've been told the roots of elephants' tusks 
 are the same, and that all teeth made that way keep growing all 
 
 BEAVER TEETH (HALF-SIZE). 
 
182 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 the time. At any rate, beavers' cutting teeth do. A beaver that 
 breaks off one of its teeth, and does not at the same time break off 
 the opposing tooth, is in a bad way. The opposing tooth is no 
 longer worn by use, but keeps getting longer and longer, until after 
 a while, if the broken tooth doesn't hurry up, the beaver can't shut 
 his mouth, and so starves to death." 
 
 " With such teeth, I don't see but beavers have to work, whether 
 they want to or not, so as to keep their teeth worn down to the 
 proper length," said Dick. 
 
 " Just so," replied the trapper ; " at least, that's the way I ex- 
 plain the enormous amount of apparently useless gnawing they do. 
 The trunk of the tree which belonged to the big stump we have 
 been looking at is an example. Here it lies just where it fell. You 
 see they have eaten the bark down to the wood, from the top and 
 sides, where it could be got at conveniently, but have left it under- 
 neath. They have also cut and carried away all the branches of 
 three inches or less in diameter. All this is as we should expect. 
 But you notice they have gnawed into the tree trunk itself in a 
 number of places, sometimes cutting it nearly half through. Why 
 they have done this, unless to wear their teeth, beats me. They 
 couldn't carry off the billets, even if they had cut them off entirely. 
 But if we look a little farther we may find a better example — yes, 
 here's just what I was looking for. Cases of this kind will be found 
 through every beaver-works." 
 
 The trapper pointed to a prostrate tree trunk some twenty feet 
 }ong, about eight or nine inches in diameter at the larger, and six 
 inches at the smaller end. It had been cut at intervals of eight or 
 ten inches, almost throughout its length. In some places it had 
 been gnawed half through, in some a third, while at others nothing 
 but a small core of wood not over an inch and a half in diameter 
 held the parts together; but at no place had the separation been 
 completed. The whole trunk looked almost like a quantity of large 
 oblong beads strung upon a pole. The work was some months 
 old, and had evidently been abandoned from choice and not from 
 necessity. 
 
 " When beavers fell a tree so that it falls on land," continued 
 
BEAVERS' WORK. 
 
 183 
 
 the trapper, " they seldom remove any part of it over three inches 
 in diameter; but when they fell a tree so that it falls into the 
 water, they will float pieces as large as six inches thick, and as 
 long as they can handle, down to their 
 wood-pile." 
 
 " I've read," said Dick, " that if a tree 
 grows near enough to the bank, they al- 
 ways cut it so that it falls into the water ; 
 and that they showed just as much skill 
 in it as any trained lumberman could." 
 
 " Yes, I've heard that before," replied 
 the trapper. " But look at that tree, and 
 that, and that. Any man who could earn 
 his tea and beans in a lumber-camp could 
 have felled any one of those trees into the 
 water. But you see all of them have fallen 
 on the bank, where, it is perfectly safe to 
 say, the beavers didn't want them. Some 
 people are mighty queer about this sort of 
 thing. They are so fond of wonders that 
 they seem blind to any simple explanation 
 though it lies directly under their noses. 
 They see only the few chance cases that 
 support their notions, while they lose sight 
 of the hundreds of ordinary cases which 
 would teach them better." 
 
 " I had an idea that beavers worked 
 only close around their houses and dams," 
 said Dick ; " but this must be over a quar- 
 ter of a mile at least from their house. 
 How is this, Mr. Dant ?" 
 
 " If they have water communication they will range up and 
 down the stream for quite a distance, a mile or more. But they 
 don't like to go far from water. They are a timid, defenceless ani- 
 mal, and they know the w T ater is their only place of safety. As 
 far as my experience goes, it is very rare for them to go back in the 
 
 BIRCH LOG CUT BY 
 
184 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 woods as much as ten rods from the bank, and then only for some 
 extra choice food-wood. Of course, when they have fed out a coun- 
 try or are frightened out of it, then they travel considerable dis- 
 tances overland to other waters. Until the winter fairly sets in it's 
 a mighty easy thing to scare them so as to set them off on their 
 travels. If we hauled that boat over their dam half a dozen times 
 a day for a week or two, even as late in the season as it now is, 
 they'd be almost sure to clear out. That's why I never let you 
 help me pull it over, because you might be less careful not to in- 
 jure the dam." 
 
 " Is there anything else that beavers do that we haven't seen '." 
 asked Harry. 
 
 " Yes, there is one more thing, as wonderful as any, in my judg- 
 ment. Where there are two pieces of water close together but 
 without natural communication, or where a stream makes a big 
 loop with a narrow neck, if the ground is level they will sometimes 
 dig a regular canal across. These canals are occasionally as much 
 as fifteen or twenty rods long, three feet wide, and carry as much 
 as two feet of water. I am sorry there are none around here to 
 show you; but then you wouldn't see much — nothing but a straight 
 ditch with perpendicular sides. The wonderful thing about it is the 
 tremendous lot of work required, for every bit of the stuff they dig 
 out has to be carried ashore between their fore-paws and their 
 chins." 
 
 •• You haven't told us what a beaver looks like," said Dick. 
 
 " That's sort of queer, too." said the trapper. " I knew it so 
 well myself that it never entered my head that you might not have 
 seen one. A beaver is a short, chunky sort of an animal, about two 
 feet long in the body, or a little more. A good big one will weigh 
 sixty pounds. They are shaped very much like a musk-rat. only, of 
 course, ever so much larger. The hind-legs are strong, with large 
 paws webbed to the toes, like a duck's foot. The front-paws are 
 very small, considering the size of the animal, and are so set on the 
 body that the palms of the hands naturally turn towards each 
 other. The tail is the most curious part. A big one is a foot long, 
 five inches wide, an inch thick where it joins the body, about half 
 

 1.'. : 
 
FASHIONS AND PRICES. 
 
 187 
 
 an inch thick in the middle, and perhaps an eighth of an inch 
 thick around the edge. It is shaped like a round- ended trowel, 
 a little the widest across the middle. It is coal black, and cov- 
 ered with what look like scales, but are really lumps on the skin. 
 
 " You know the color of its fur 
 well enough, I suppose, now it's 
 fashionable. You look a little sur- 
 prised to hear a man living in the 
 backwoods talk about what is fash- 
 ionable ; but we find it out in furs 
 mighty quick, because we feel it in 
 the prices we get. I used to get 
 five dollars apiece for mink -skins, 
 before seal fur came in. Now I get 
 only a dollar and a quarter for the 
 best. Beaver-skins used always to 
 be sold by the pound, weighed just 
 as they were stretched and dried. 
 Now they are sometimes sold by 
 the single skin. When dried they 
 weigh from one and a half to two 
 pounds each, and used to bring 
 about two dollars and a half a 
 pound. Lately we have been get- 
 ting from four dollars and a half 
 to five dollars a pound, so I know 
 they are fashionable." 
 
 " You said beavers work only 
 at night, didn't you, Mr. Dant ?" 
 
 " Yes, and the darker and rainier 
 the night the better they like it. 
 
 In the summer and early fall they do little work except to keep 
 their dams in repair. Then they sleep all day, and cruise the water 
 at night, living from hand to mouth. Often you'll find in the morn- 
 ing on some sand-bar a hundred or more little willow sticks about 
 the size of a lead-pencil, all freshly peeled. They are the leavings 
 
 
 BEAVER S TAIL. 
 
188 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 from some beaver's supper. But when the cold weather comes, 
 then they make up for lost time, repairing their houses and putting 
 in their winter stock of food-wood. If you kept track of what they 
 were doing then, you'd think there was a good deal in the expres- 
 sion ' to work like a beaver.' But even then the work is all done 
 at night. I never saw a beaver, that wasn't in a trap, ashore in the 
 daytime but once. It was in November a year ago. I was at a 
 pond over the boundary about two miles from here ; quite a good- 
 sized pond — between a quarter and half a mile long. The beavers 
 had put a dam across the outlet that raised the water two feet in 
 the pond, and flowed it back up the inlet three-quarters of a mile. 
 I was looking over things to see where to put my traps, when I 
 heard something moving up in the woods. When I hear anything 
 moving in the woods I want to know what it is. So I sneaked up 
 as quietly as I could, and there I saw a beaver about forty yards 
 from the water. I should hardly have been more astonished if I 
 had seen my great-grandfather's ghost. It found me out as quick 
 as I found it, and rose up on its hind-legs, like a squirrel, to look at 
 me. One look was enough to satisfy the little curiosity it had. It 
 dropped on all fours and began to shamble for the water the best it 
 knew. I wouldn't have believed that an animal half as broad as it 
 was long, and with such little bits of fore-legs, could get over the 
 ground so. I had the longest legs, but it had the most of 'em, and 
 it used them, too, with industry. A ten-dollar prize for a forty-yard 
 run is worth trying for, and the way I climbed through the wind- 
 falls was bad for clothes. As usual when trapping, I had nothing 
 but my axe with me, so I had to get within arm's-length or lose it. 
 It gave me all I wanted to do, but I came up with it, at last, before 
 it could reach the water. When it saw that it was no use, it didn't 
 show fight at all, but just stopped and hunched itself together wait- 
 ing for what was to come. I really pitied it after I had knocked it 
 on the head, though it was a much less cruel death than they gener- 
 ally die." 
 
 " How do you trap beavers, Mr. Dant ?" asked Dick. 
 
 " I don't like to take a beaver now, because the fur isn't quite 
 prime yet. It would look well enough to you, perhaps, but the 
 
THE TRAPPER'S FRUIT-TREE. 1S9 
 
 minute the dealer saw that the inside of the dried skin was bluish 
 instead of white, he'd know that that fur was taken too early, and 
 cut the price down. Still, I can show you how it is done all the 
 same. 
 
 " Would you rather wait here, or come with me to see one of 
 my fruit-trees ? I have quite a lot of them scattered through these 
 woods." 
 
 The boys preferred to go with him. He led them back the way 
 they came, and then off a short distance into the woods. There 
 stood a small tree, upon which hung some fifty or more steel traps 
 of all sizes. 
 
 " Though the chance of any one getting in here from the Cana- 
 dian settlements is very slim, still it's possible. Now, though many 
 of the French Canadians — ' Pea-soupers ' we call them — are all right, 
 still some of them are not such persons as I care to expose to much 
 temptation. So I don't keep my traps in camp, where they would 
 find them if they did chance 
 in here, but hidden in this 
 way. This is the kind of 
 a trap we use for beavers. 
 Now let's go back." 
 
 So saying, the trapper se- beaver trap. 
 
 lected a trap provided with 
 
 two powerful springs, the jaws of which were seven or eight inches 
 long. Three feet of stout chain, ending in a two-inch iron ring, 
 was secured to one of the springs. As they returned, he said : 
 
 " All trapping rests on two great principles — like all principles, 
 simple in themselves, but not always so easy to apply. If you are 
 walking in a city street and find a load of coal or wood dumped 
 on the sidewalk in your way, you get by it in the easiest manner, 
 as a matter of course. If you go over it, you do it where it is 
 lowest and narrowest, not where it is highest and widest. If it 
 is high and wide everywhere, you go around, but keep close to it, 
 so as not to go more out of your Avay than is necessary. It's just 
 so with all animals. When they are out on their rambles, unless 
 turned aside by some special object, such as suspicion or a chance 
 
190 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 for food, they select the easiest travelling. This is the first great 
 principle. 
 
 " The second great principle is this : All timid wild animals pre- 
 fer a known way to one they have not tried. Scare a deer, for in- 
 stance, on the bog, or on the bank of the stream, so that it has to 
 cross the bog to gain cover. It will take the track it came in by 
 every time, if it isn't cut off from it, though it may be twice as far 
 to the woods that way as it would be in a straight line. It's just so 
 with a beaver. The first time one of them comes up this stream 
 hunting for food-wood, it will land with the greatest caution. If 
 it gets back all right, ever}^ beaver that comes up afterwards to for- 
 age there will land in the same place and no other. They know 
 the water is their place of safety, and the land their place of dan- 
 ger. They will go on to that place of danger only by the path they 
 have proved to be safe. They will return to the water almost any- 
 where where it is convenient, because that is going from a place of 
 danger to one of safety. But landing will always be done in that 
 one place as long as they are feeding in that vicinity. 
 
 " Now let us walk up the stream while you watch the banks, 
 and try if you can see such a place." 
 
 They had gone but a short distance before Harry called out, 
 " There it is, right over there !" and Dick said, " Yes, and there's 
 another !" 
 
 " Both wrong," replied the trapper. " Don't you see that the 
 grass and twigs point towards the water ? They point in the direc- 
 tion of travel. Those places are where they returned to the water. 
 But you've learned your lesson. The landing-place is below, so turn 
 back and I'll show it to you." 
 
 They found it a short distance down-stream — a well-worn path, 
 almost a foot wide, leading directly up over the bank from the 
 water. 
 
 " That's the place to set a trap," said the trapper. " You'll no- 
 tice that those landing-places are always pretty near deep water. 
 Here there is a little shelf of mud, and then it suddenly breaks 
 off deep. In other places the slope will be more gradual, but 
 deep water is always close by. Upon whether the deep water 
 
HOW BEAVERS ARE TRAPPED. 191 
 
 is nearer or farther off depends whether we set for a fore or a 
 hind leg." 
 
 " You don't mean to say, Mr. Dant, that you decide beforehand 
 which leg you will take them by ?" 
 
 " Yes ; that's just what I do mean to say. We not only decide 
 whether it's to be a fore-leg or a hind-leg, but also upon which side 
 the fore or hind leg is to be. It doesn't do to make any mistake 
 about that. If the shallow water is narrow and the deep water 
 very near, then the trap should be set for a fore-leg. If the slope 
 of the bottom is more gradual, then it must be a hind-leg set. The 
 hind-leg set has the disadvantage that after the beaver finds out 
 that it's caught it takes to the bank, and may be found and eaten 
 by wild animals, so that the skin is spoiled. But it has the advan- 
 tage that an animal so taken seldom ' foots ;' while the fore-leg set 
 has the advantage that if everything works all right, the animal is 
 promptly drowned and is safe under water, but if things go wrong 
 the animal is very apt to foot." 
 
 " By ' foot ' I suppose you mean they bite off the foot by which 
 they are caught above the trap," said Dick. " I've heard of that." 
 
 " I've heard of it too," replied the trapper, " but I have never 
 seen it, and what's more, I don't believe in it. Carnivorous animals, 
 such as the bear, lynx, otter, fisher, and sable, will sometimes gnaw off 
 that portion of the foot which is below the jaws of the trap, where 
 the pressure has killed all sensation, and then wrench out the stump 
 and escape ; but I've yet to see a case where they bit off the leg 
 above the jaws of the trap, where the leg was still alive. Vegeta- 
 ble-feeding animals, like the beaver and musk-rat, wrench and twist 
 on the trap until they first break the bone, and then actually pull 
 the leg out by the roots, leaving strings of sinew and small muscle 
 hanging above the jaws of the trap ; in the case of the beaver, as 
 much as six inches long. I don't know how it is with other trap- 
 pers, but besides the loss of the fur, I always feel ashamed of myself 
 when an animal foots in one of my traps, for I ought to have so set 
 it that they couldn't get a solid pull on it. Still, sometimes in their 
 struggles they will hook the trap on to something that fastens it up 
 solid, and then, particularly if it happens soon after they are caught, 
 
192 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 they are likely to foot. Trapping is an awful cruel business, there 
 is no denying that, but I doubt if footing hurts them so very much ; 
 for if it hurt them anything like what it would hurt us, they couldn't 
 stand it to pull and wrench on a broken leg the way they must do 
 to pull it out by the roots. I think the squeeze of the trap numbs 
 them." 
 
 " Will you show us how you set the trap now, Mr. Dant ?" asked 
 Harry. 
 
 " No. Not now. I would have to get into the water to do it, 
 and that is hardly worth while when I can show you just as well 
 when we are in the boat.''' 
 
 On arriving at the smaller beaver dam Dick said, " Why, isn't 
 that a beaver path over this dam, Mr. Dant ?" 
 
 "Yes. You'll always see that on every live beaver dam. We 
 call a ' live beaver dam ' one that is actually in use by beavers, to 
 distinguish it from one that has been abandoned. On the principle 
 I told you before, they always cross their dams at the same place." 
 
 " Then that must be a first-rate place to put a trap," said Harry. 
 
 " It's a first-rate place for a man who doesn't know his business, 
 but one of the last places a trapper would select. Whether it goes 
 to prove that all beaver-work is done under the direction of one 
 boss beaver or not, I won't say. But this is a sure thing : Unless 
 the winter is so far advanced that the beavers are tied down to 
 their homes and pile of food- wood, if the first one trapped out of a 
 family is not the head of the family, the rest of them will clear out 
 under his leadership. If a trap is to be put in at such a place on a 
 beaver dam as this, it is set on the upper side, so that the beaver 
 may have a good chance to swing off into deep water and drown 
 itself. If it does happen to take the boss first, it's all right and 
 there is a chance for another one ; but if it doesn't get that one, 
 as is most likely, then that's the end of trapping in that beaver- 
 works." 
 
 ''I don't see but what that objection would apply to setting 
 traps at the entrances to their houses," said Dick. 
 
 " You're quite right, it does. That's another bungler's trick. 
 They drive rows of stakes at the entrances to the houses so that the 
 

 \: 
 
HOW BEAVERS ARE TRAPPED. 195 
 
 beavers can get in only between the stakes. Then they put a trap 
 at each entrance. But that's only stupid, and he who traps that 
 way gets paid for it. Some fellows — butchers, I call them — get a lot 
 of stakes, stake all the holes they can find, so as to shut the beavers 
 in, and then break open their houses and kill them. That of course 
 wipes that family out altogether, leaving not one to keep up the 
 stock. A good trapper tries to spare all except the full-grown." 
 
 " If you don't set traps at the dam or at their houses, where you 
 know they are," said Harry, " I don't see how you can tell where to 
 set them ; for from what you said before I suppose you don't use 
 bait." 
 
 " I manage it this way : You see, a beaver is in one way an 
 unfortunate animal. Like a country constable, it can't live without 
 sticking up notices that it is around, nor without at the same time 
 describing itself in the notices. I mean that they have to cut to 
 live, and that where fresh cuttings are found, the beavers that made 
 them must be near. Then the teeth-marks of no two beavers in a 
 family are exactly alike. The differences may be small, so small 
 that perhaps you couldn't see them even if I pointed them out. But 
 we woodsmen notice little things. It's as much a habit with us as 
 smoking is with some people. Almost without thinking, and as a 
 matter of course, whenever we are in the woods our eyes are open 
 to the signs of forest life. We could hardly pass them by without 
 notice if we tried. So before the trapping season opens I have 
 located every family of beavers in what I call my country, and 
 know just how many animals make up each family. 
 
 " In Xovember, when beaver-trapping time comes, and I propose 
 to make the acquaintance of a beaver family, I first find out where 
 they are working at that time. I then examine their teeth-marks 
 with care. As I said before, the boss beaver must be the first to be 
 taken, or the family will leave. My first object is to locate him. 
 Being larger and stronger than the others, he is generally more 
 enterprising and ranges farther from home. I find where he is in 
 the habit of working at last, perhaps half a mile or more from 
 the house. Not a trap do I set until that is done. Probably I 
 have found out at the same time where he leaves the water for 
 
196 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 the bank. If not, that takes but a little while when I know where 
 he is working." 
 
 While the trapper had been talking they had regained the boat, 
 and had run down the stream to the camp boat - landing. Here 
 he landed, told the boys to remain in the boat, was gone a few 
 moments, and returned with a dry peeled spruce pole about two 
 inches thick and eight feet long, his axe, two stakes, and a flat stone. 
 Both of these stakes had been cut from a bush just below where a 
 stout branch grew. About four inches of this branch had been left 
 on the stakes, which were otherwise trimmed clean. Both stakes 
 were so made that when driven into the ground this short branch 
 would project outward and downward from the top of the stake, 
 just as the barb projects from a fish-hook. Taking his place in the 
 boat, the trapper continued his explanation. 
 
 " We call this pole a tally-pole. You see its big end is split. If 
 I slip the ring of the trap-chain over the split end of the pole and 
 drive in a wedge, the trap-chain and trap will be secured to the pole. 
 That's the first thing to do before setting a beaver-trap. The tally- 
 pole must be of dry wood ; if green the beaver would cut it off and 
 walk away with the trap, if the pole was three times as thick as this 
 one. Dry wood they won't touch for some reason. Here is a good 
 place for a front-leg set. You see there is a narrow shelf of shallow 
 water with deep water close to it, just as there was where we saw 
 the beaver path above. We will take this musk-rat path for the 
 beaver path, and play that a boss beaver worth a good ten-dollar 
 bill is in the habit of leaving the water here for his nightly ramble 
 ashore. Such being the case, we'll stop here and make a surprise- 
 party for him. I first tie the trap to this flat stone, choosing one 
 for the purpose heavy enough, so that if a beaver once goes below 
 the surface of the water with the trap and stone hitched to him, he's 
 going to stay there. I next fasten the trap to the tally-pole. I then 
 dig a hole with my hands in the bottom under water deep enough 
 to take in the stone, so that when set the trap will lie about four 
 inches below the surface of the water and level with the bottom. 
 This water is not what you would call really warm and comfortable ; 
 but when the ice begins to make over the still places in November, 
 
HOW BEAVERS ARE TRAPPED. 
 
 197 
 
 it sometimes makes my hands pain like the toothache when setting 
 traps. I have to do it, though, just as if I liked it. 
 
 " You see I haven't set the trap opposite the middle of the path, 
 but off to one side. The beaver is a wide animal, and if the trap 
 was put opposite the middle of the path, if sprung at all, it would 
 be by the beaver's body. Then as the jaws closed they would only 
 throw the beaver up in the air, and, beyond pinching it some and 
 scaring it almost to death, do no good. The side of the path chosen 
 decides whether the beaver will be taken by the right or left leg. 
 The depth of water over the trap determines whether it is to be a 
 hind or fore leg. For the same reason that we don't set the trap 
 opposite the middle of the 
 path, we set the jaws so that 
 they lie lengthwise of the 
 beaver's body when it is 
 over the trap, and not cross- 
 wise. We then set the trap, 
 sink it into place on the bot- 
 tom, move the tally-pole in 
 parallel with the bank, and 
 hold it there under water on 
 the bottom by pushing down 
 the stakes so that the pro- 
 jecting branches will hook 
 
 over it. The idea is only to keep the tally-pole sunk until a beaver 
 pulls on it ; then it should come loose and follow the trap. Now 
 comes in the second great principle — that animals always take the 
 easiest road. I pick from the bottom a couple of old waterlogged 
 sticks, just such as a beaver meets under water all the time, and 
 consequently will see without suspicion. These I stick into the 
 bottom between the trap and where the path leaves the water, so 
 that they stand upright with the tops a little under water, one 
 opposite each side of the path. To land where it wants to land, a 
 beaver must either pass between these sticks — that is, move in the 
 most favorable way for the trap to nip it — or it must squirm around 
 them. It is bound to land at its usual place. My way is conven- 
 
 (ilitiUND-PLAN OF V.EAVKR-TRAP. 
 
 A, tally-pole; 
 
 i, trap ; C, stone ; D, beaver path ; 
 E, guiding sticks. 
 
198 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 ient and open ; any other way is obstructed and difficult. It 
 takes the easiest way — my way, and, as is often the case when 
 pleasure and convenience only are considered, it soon wishes it 
 hadn't. 
 
 " The whole thing works in this way : Along comes the beaver, 
 swimming with its fore-legs doubled back against its body, for a 
 ramble on shore. It approaches its usual landing-place ; the sticks 
 guide it over the trap, its breast touches the bank ; down goes its 
 leg right into the trap, which closes on it like a flash. The beaver 
 seeks safety where it has always found it before — in deep water, tak- 
 ing trap, stone, and tally-pole with it. There the stone sinks and 
 anchors it, while the free end of the tally-pole, floating above, buoys 
 the place where rest its mortal remains." 
 
 The trapper then proceeded to show the boys how to set a trap 
 to take a beaver by the hind-leg. In this case no stone was used. 
 The trap was placed on the bottom under about fourteen inches of 
 water. The free end of the tally-pole was made fast by a thong 
 to a stake driven well into the bottom, so that the top of the 
 stake and the fastening were below the surface. The up-stream 
 end of the tally-pole, to which the trap -chain was fastened, was 
 kept below the surface as before. Otherwise the arrangements 
 were the same. 
 
 " When a beaver is taken by this set," said the trapper, " its first 
 jump clears the trap end of the tally-pole. After that it can swing 
 around the tied end of the tally-pole as it chooses. The chain end 
 being up-stream and the fastened end down-stream, the current and 
 its own efforts swing the beaver out into deep water. There the 
 trap may be heavy enough to drown it. This is always the case 
 if the alders grow so thick on the bank that the beaver can't get 
 ashore, hampered as it is with the trap and tally-pole ; but if it is 
 not drowned it goes ashore after a while. Often they will mow 
 down every bush which the length of the tally-pole and chain will 
 let them reach. Almost always they will try their teeth on the 
 trap, in which the trap comes off first best. There we find them 
 on the bank. They don't show any fight, only hunch themselves 
 together and keep very still, as if they hoped to escape unseen. 
 
BEAVER-TRAPPING IN WINTER. 199 
 
 Then we give them a whack on the head with a club enough to 
 stun them — not very hard, or the blood will settle under the skin 
 where they are struck and damage it. Then we take off the trap, 
 and stand on their body with both feet if the ground will permit 
 it. The blow with the club stuns them, and with the weight of a 
 man on their heart and lungs they can't get breath to come to 
 again, so they are dead in a few minutes." 
 
 " Then, when the streams and ponds are frozen solid you have to 
 stop trapping beavers ?" said Dick. 
 
 k ' Oh no," replied the trapper ; " but we follow a different plan 
 then. I of course have kept track of what they have been doing, 
 and know where their house and food-wood pile is. I go off in the 
 woods and cut just the very nicest piece of white birch or poplar I 
 can find. It must be long enough so one end will reach the bottom 
 of the pool in which their wood-pile is, while the other end is well 
 above the ice. I choose a piece as thick as I can well lug, when of 
 the length required. I also get an armful of fir-boughs. Then I cut 
 a hole through the ice near their wood-pile, and stand my stick of 
 bait-wood upright in it so that one end is embedded in the bottom, 
 while the other end is up above the ice. I next set my trap and 
 lower it through the water by the tally-pole, until it rests on the 
 bottom about eighteen inches from my bait-stick. I then cover the 
 hole with fir-boughs to exclude snow and wind, so that the ice, 
 which almost immediately begins to form, will freeze perfectly clear. 
 In a short time both bait-stick and tally -pole are firmly frozen in. 
 Lastly, I heap snow over the fir-boughs until it is as dark over the 
 hole as it is anywhere else. 
 
 " The arrangement works this way : A beaver comes to the 
 wood-pile for food. They soon notice my fresh piece. Their wood 
 is waterlogged and sour. My fresh piece, compared to it, is as beef- 
 steak to salt pork. The beaver rises on his hind-legs to cut it off 
 as high up as he can reach, and while so doing works in a circle 
 round the stick. It is sure to step on the trap sooner or later, gen- 
 erally sooner, which closes on it at once. As the trap holds the 
 beaver, the chain holds the trap, the tally-pole holds the chain, and 
 the ice holds the tally-pole, the beaver is soon drowned. On my 
 
200 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 next round I take off the snow, lift the fir-boughs from over where 
 the hole has been, and look down through the clear ice as though it 
 was a pane of glass. If I see I have a beaver, I recut the hole, haul 
 it out, and reset for another. 
 
 " There ! I think that will do about beavers. Let's go back to 
 camp and get supper." 
 
 _- 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Moose-calling Proposed and Abandoned. — They Try Jack-bunting. — An Unfortunate 
 Encounter.—" Good gracious ! What did you do that for ?" 
 
 SUPPER having been eaten with that keen relish which hunger 
 alone can give, and everything made ready for the night, the 
 trapper left the boys to their own devices and vanished into the 
 outer darkness. After an absence of some fifteen minutes he re- 
 turned and said : 
 
 " I had intended to call to-night, but I am afraid there is almost 
 too much wind for it." 
 
 " Did you mean to try to call up a moose, Mr. Dant ?" asked 
 Harry. " Oh, do let's try it, anyway. I should so like to see how 
 it is done." 
 
 The trapper laughed and said : " You city people are all alike. 
 You seem to think that in a country where large game is plenty, all 
 that has to be done is to walk through the woods and scoop them 
 
202 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 in right and left. But the fact is that a person might range these 
 woods for a month and never see hide nor hair of anything larger 
 than a rabbit, unless he did it in the right way and at the right 
 time. You mustn't think, because you have chanced on a moose 
 and a caribou in the short time you have been here, that that's the 
 ordinary run of luck. Animals have a mighty good notion of when 
 it is healthy to be around and when it is healthy to leave ; and 
 they have the nose and ears to give them all the information they 
 need to make up their mind about it too. If that caribou we saw 
 over on the Little River had come from any other direction than 
 that by which it did come, it would have smelled our fire a quar- 
 ter of a mile or more off, and we would never have even dreamed it 
 had been anywhere near us. Nothing seems to astonish city people 
 more than the apparent scarcity of animals in these woods. They 
 come with the notion that the backwoods must just swarm with 
 life. They go away with the idea that little except a few scat- 
 tering birds is to be found here. If they could only see it after 
 the snow -begins to fall, when every moving thing leaves its track 
 behind, they'd go to the other extreme, and think that the ani- 
 mals were so thick that they almost jostled one another when they 
 moved about. The reason they don't see more is not that there are 
 none to see, but because the animals see, hear, or smell them and 
 clear out long before they are in seeing distance. 
 
 " As to moose-calling, it's one of the most delicate operations that 
 can be tried in the woods — that is, if it is to amount to anything. 
 It is the call of the cow that is imitated, and it means in moose lan- 
 guage that the lady moose is at home, that she feels lonely, and that 
 if there is any gentleman moose in the neighborhood she would be 
 happy to see him. The places in this country where moose-calling 
 can be tried with a chance of success are not many. It must of 
 course be a place where moose range ; it must be an open place, free 
 from any cover except that occupied by the hunters ; and it must be 
 a place where the moose cannot cross the back track of the hunters 
 without first offering a shot. The calling is done in the evening or 
 early morning, when moose are moving about. A full moon is nec- 
 essary, that there may be light enough to shoot by. The night 
 
AFTER THE SNOW BEGINS TO FALL. 
 
JACK-HUNTING. '205 
 
 should be dead-still, so that the call may spread to the greatest dis- 
 tance without being drowned by the sound of the wind through the 
 trees, and so that an approaching animal cannot get the scent of the 
 hunters. But I'll tell you all about it to-morrow ; it would be worse 
 than useless to try to call to-night. We can range the stream for an 
 hour or two, if you like, on the chance of catching one crossing. 
 What do you say V 
 
 Both boys approved the suggestion. Thereupon the trapper pro- 
 duced from a shelf in the camp a large dark lantern, provided with 
 a powerful light and reflector. A glass lens six inches in diameter 
 formed the front of the lantern. Over this fitted a cover, hinged 
 below and opening from above, so that when the cover was closed 
 the light was shut off entirely. The joint where the cover fitted 
 over the glass was padded with buckskin, so that the cover could be 
 opened and shut without the slightest noise ; and every aperture 
 about the lantern was so protected that not the faintest glimmer of 
 light could escape except when the cover was dropped. This the 
 trapper called a " jack-lamp," or more frequently simply a " jack." 
 He removed the lamp, filled it with oil, trimmed the wick carefully, 
 and lighted it. He then proceeded to scour the silvered reflector at 
 the back of the lantern-case and polish the glass lens till both were 
 spec kl ess. He then replaced the lighted lamp in the lantern, set it 
 on the table, and said : 
 
 " There ; we'll let the light burn till the jack is hot. We want 
 all the light we can get without smoke. The oil flows more freely 
 to the wick after it gets warm, and a light that burns all right 
 when the jack is cool will smoke like a pine-knot when it becomes 
 hot. For lack of a little care in this, many a man has opened his 
 jack to shoot and found the inside covered with soot and the jack 
 useless. While we are waiting I'll give you a few points, in case we 
 do come across something. You see, the principle we go on is that 
 an animal with that light in its eyes can't see anything behind it. 
 If that was the only thing to be considered we would go with the 
 jack open ; but it isn't. A deer, unless it has been shot at from un- 
 der a jack a good deal, will generally stand to a light, staring at it 
 until you can get plenty near enough to shoot. Sometimes caribou 
 
206 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 will too, and sometimes they won't. Nobody can tell just what 
 caribou will do beforehand, for one moment they will be the stupid- 
 est of the stupid, and at the next the shyest of the shy. Moose 
 won't stand to a light at all, as far as my experience goes. At the 
 first sight of it they bounce into the woods, and if they care to 
 study it any further, do it from there, where they are safe. The 
 light of a jack or of the moon will not penetrate the bushes or 
 woods one single inch. The outer leaves will shine like silver, but 
 beyond them it will seem as dark as the inside of a fire-proof safe. 
 An animal may be not three feet behind the shining leaves, yet be 
 as invisible as though in the next State. I've seen many and many 
 a sportsman ready almost to tear his hair when he could hear his 
 game thrashing about in the bushes not forty feet away, and yet 
 couldn't locate them so as to fire, to save his neck." 
 
 " Couldn't he shoot at the sound ?" asked Dick. 
 
 " Not to hit anything except the wide, wide world," replied the 
 trapper. " You see, most people's nerves are a little disturbed at 
 such times, and then the coolest man can hardly locate a sound at 
 night so as to warrant a shot. In this kind of hunting we rely en- 
 tirely on our ears to tell when we are near game. Keep just as still 
 as you can and listen for all you are worth, is the rule. There must 
 be no talking, nor whispering, nor moving about in the boat. It's 
 cold, crampy kind of business you'll find, and requires a great deal 
 of patience and perseverance. Do what you will, use all the skill 
 that man can use, and still it may be, and often is, all thrown away. 
 There may be nothing near the water; or a dozen animals may 
 cross above or below you, but out of sight and hearing from the 
 place you happen to be." 
 
 " How far will the jack show an animal plain enough to shoot, 
 Mr. Dant ?" asked Harry. 
 
 " Not as far as you'd think. It depends a good deal on the 
 background against which the animal stands. If the animal has 
 white on it, and stands so that the light strikes the white, that part 
 can be seen farther than the rest of it. Somewhere between thirty 
 and forty feet will be about the average distance at which the body 
 can be seen by the man under the jack. The eyes can be seen con- 
 
JACK-HUNTINCx. 
 
 207 
 
 siderably farther. The paddler, 
 too, can make out the animal 
 distinctly when the man under 
 the jack, and who is to shoot, 
 cannot see it at all. My plan, 
 and the only plan, in my judg- 
 
 HOMb OF 1I1E DEEK. 
 
208 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 merit, where anything larger than deer is wanted, is to go dark, 
 and only to open the jack when near enough to shoot ; that is, 
 unless the animal starts when you are almost, but not quite, near 
 enough. In that case, opening the jack will generally stop even a 
 moose, for a moment or two. and give time and opportunity to get 
 close enough. We must rely on our ears alone to tell us when 
 game is near. Since my ear is better trained, I will probably first 
 hear any animal we may come across to-night. Besides, I can tell 
 better whether any sound is made by the game we are after or 
 not. You will hear lots of noises, such as musk-rats ru nnin g 
 
 o 
 
 through the grass or diving, that you might mistake for game, 
 but which I would understand. So if I hear anything worth while 
 to-night. I will shake the boat. That won't make any noise, but 
 you'll feel it quick enough to know that something is up just as 
 well as if I spoke. The lamp is all right now. Take your blankets 
 and let's be moving." 
 
 On arriving at the water's edge, the trapper fastened a short 
 pole to the right-hand side of the front seat of the boat, upon which 
 he secured the jack. He then produced two rough boards split 
 from a tree, and arranged them as backs for the front and middle 
 seats. He then launched the boat, spread the blankets over the 
 seats, and told the boys to take their places ; Harry, whose turn it 
 was to shoot, on the bow, and Dick as passenger on the middle seat. 
 That their feet might make no noise if moved, he next arranged 
 the blankets so that they covered the bottom of the boat, and then 
 wrapped them carefully up and tucked the blankets in all around 
 them. As arranged on the jack-staff, the jack was just over 
 Harry's head, clearing it. as he sat. by about an inch. He made 
 Harry open and close the jack a number of times, until he could 
 readily find and unfasten and fasten the catch of the cover by feel- 
 ing. He then had him throw his rifle to his shoulder in a conven- 
 ient position for shooting, and turned the jack-staff until the power- 
 ful beam of light from the jack took the direction in which the 
 rifle was pointed. 
 
 " There, that's all right so far. Xow, Harry, remember to shoot 
 at what you see, and not at what you can't see and have to guess 
 
WHERE TO AIM AT GAME. 
 
 209 
 
 IICNTING r.Y MOONLIGHT. 
 
 the position of. Deer are to go free, as we have venison enough. 
 Don't try a head shot if you can see the neck or any of the forward 
 part of the body ; and don't try a neck shot if you can get one into 
 the forward third of the body. If the animal is facing you, give it 
 to it where the neck joins the body, or as near there as you can see. 
 If you have to fire at the side of the neck, aim about a quarter of 
 the way down from its top edge. If you can see only the animal's 
 eyes, don't shoot unless I whisper to you. It's a hard shot, as the 
 end of the animal's nose will be pointing right at you, and unless 
 14 
 
210 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 you hold dead straight it will be a clean miss. That shot should 
 never be tried at night unless it is impossible to get nearer. If the 
 animal is broadside to, fire through the middle of the fore-shoulder, 
 not behind it, but right through the middle of it, and about one- 
 quarter of the distance from the breast-line to the back. After you 
 have fired once, shoot again if you ha\ T e the chance. But if not, 
 close the jack at once and keep just as still as you can until I speak 
 to you in my natural tone of voice. Lean a little forward when 
 you aim, so as to get the light on the back as well as on the front 
 sight of the rifle. You will then be able to aim at anything you 
 can see as well as if it were broad daylight. Take your time to 
 shoot, and aim at a particular spot as though your life depended on 
 putting the bullet within the breadth of a dollar. A moose shows 
 up very large under a jack, but the places where a bullet must 
 strike to knock it off its legs are small. So be careful to choose 
 those places and be careful to hit them. When your legs get too 
 cramped to stand it any longer you may move them, but when you 
 do it, or move your body, try to be as quiet as possible. But if I 
 have shaken the boat, stand it if you can. Now throw a cartridge 
 into the rifle-barrel, half cock it, close the jack, and letfs be off." 
 
 So saying, the trapper took his seat in the stern of the boat, 
 folded his blanket around him from the waist downward, seized his 
 paddle, and pushed from the bank. 
 
 An almost full moon just topped the eastern hills, lighting up the 
 western margin of the stream and the woods which approached the 
 bank, except when patches of scudding clouds veiled its face. Dense 
 shadows projected over the water from the eastern bank, cutting 
 sharply into the radiant water like a smear of pitch upon a mirror. 
 A gentle breeze, keen and cold, occasionally touched the water. 
 It came like a breath, making the visible face of Nature shiver, 
 lasted but for a moment, and then died away in renewed calm. 
 But ashore the evergreen forest sighed and moaned under the in- 
 fluence of the wind like the voice of a sick man. Upon the tense 
 nerves of the boys the effect was decidedly weird and ghostly. 
 
 In the gloom, and close to the bank that made it, the canoe 
 stole on. The very shadows lay not more silent on the water than 
 
A LIKELY PLACE FOR GAME. 
 
JACK-HUNTING. 213 
 
 was the motion of the boat. Neither by ear nor by sense of 
 feeling could the boys detect that it moved at all. It seemed 
 rather as though they were stationary, and that the moonlit bank 
 was moving slowly by them like a panorama. 
 
 When the wind dropped down it seemed to them that the still- 
 ness could almost be felt. When it rose, the most varied and ex- 
 traordinary sounds came from the forest, sounds so human, so ago- 
 nized, so awful, that it appeared almost impossible the} 7 could be 
 produced by anything devoid of life. Remembering that their ears 
 were to be their guide, the boys listened, listened intently, listened 
 as they had never listened before, listened as the blind man listens 
 when every energy of his being is given to the only remaining sense 
 which still connects him with the outside world. At times they 
 thought they heard the tread of an animal on the bank, a rustle of 
 the grass, or a movement in the water ; but as the trapper made no 
 sign, they concluded that it was a delusion. Indeed, so great was 
 the strain upon them, and so frequent these apparent mistakes, that 
 before long they began to question their own ability to distinguish 
 the real from the imaginary. 
 
 Then the cold began to make itself felt. It seemed to hunt 
 them over until it found an unguarded spot, then to bore in like 
 a gimlet, and from where it reached the skin little icy shivers 
 crawled over them in every direction. From time to time, and 
 always when some fancied sound made them think the most ab- 
 solute stillness necessary, an insane desire to cough, sneeze, blow 
 their noses, or do something else equally inopportune, seized them. 
 Again, their strong desire to move as little as possible made every 
 position seem strained, uncomfortable, and cramped. Before the 
 first half-hour had passed they were firm converts to the belief that 
 success in that form of hunting was only to the patient and long- 
 suffering. 
 
 Every little feeder to the main stream was entered and followed 
 until the boat could go no farther. There it paused, and some min- 
 utes — interminable minutes to the boys — were passed in silent lis- 
 tening. At last, when in the judgment of the trapper the wait 
 had been so long that any animal within hearing must have made 
 
214 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 known its presence by some movement, the boat slowly and silently 
 returned and again began to ascend the main stream. A short dis- 
 tance below the beaver dam the boys detected something moving in 
 the water. A moment later five black ducks sailed from the shadow 
 into the moonlight, evidently in great excitement and uncertainty 
 as to the character of the dark object they saw approaching. Sud- 
 denly, when the boat was about thirty feet from them, they left the 
 water with a tremendous splash and flutter of wings, and with 
 hoarse quackings vanished up-stream and into the night. 
 
 Though it happened before their eyes and the cause was perfect- 
 ly apparent, the sudden clamor after such protracted stillness acted 
 
 OVER A BEAVER DAM. 
 
 on the nerves of the boys like an electric shock. Dick gave a start 
 that set the boat to rocking violently. But it was upon the more 
 excitable temperament of Harry that the effect was most disastrous. 
 The rifle was discharged in his hands, the bullet singing its way 
 over the bog into the distant woods. To their startled ears the re- 
 port sounded like that of a six-pounder, and echoed and re-echoed 
 from hill to hill in a roll of thunder which seemed as'though it 
 would never end. 
 
 "Good gracious! What did you do that for?" whispered the 
 trapper. 
 
 " I didn't mean to," replied Harry, in a voice broken by the 
 
"GOOD GRACIOUS! WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?" 215 
 
 keenness of his sense of shame. " I had my hand on the hammer 
 of the rifle so that I could get ready to shoot quick if a chance 
 came, and the sudden noise made me start so that I pulled it off 
 somehow." 
 
 " Well, it can't be helped now, anyway. We'll land on the little 
 island at the beaver dam and see what's to be done." A few mo- 
 ments later all three stood on the island, the boat lying half across 
 the beaver dam, equally ready for up-stream or camp. 
 
 " Our chances were not really first-rate when we started," said 
 the trapper, "and that shot and the ducks haven't improved them 
 any. I am not sure but the ducks are worse than the shot. We'll 
 put them up two or three times more before we reach the head of 
 the stream, and then they will get below us and we'll put them 
 up two or three times more on our way back. Every time they'll 
 make noise enough to wake the dead, let alone to put a moose on 
 guard." 
 
 kk The shot was a good deal louder," said Harry. " I ought to be 
 kicked ! But I won't spoil things again. It's no use to take the 
 trouble to give me any more chances, Mr. Dant : I'm not good for 
 anything, anyway. But Dick's all right. I'll wait here on the 
 island till you and he get back, if you want to try it up-stream." 
 
 The sound of tears in Harry's voice would have silenced the 
 kind-hearted trapper, even had he been more put out than he was. 
 
 " Not much," he replied. " You won't do that trick again, I 
 know. The shot will certainly stir things up some ; but if the bullet 
 doesn't go near them, game often won't pay much attention to the 
 sound of a gun unless close to it. Perhaps they think it thunder 
 or a tree falling. I wish those ducks, though, were in the middle of 
 next week. I'll tell you what we'll do : we'll wait here about ten 
 minutes, to let things quiet down and get the cramps out of our 
 legs. Then we'll try it up to the head of navigation, and if we hear 
 nothing we'll go back to camp. You take the rifle again, Harry. 
 Keep it on the half-cock, and your hands away from the hammer 
 and trigger. Eemember, if we do come across game you will hear 
 it long before there will be any chance to shoot, so you'll have 
 plenty of time to get ready." 
 
216 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 It was near midnight when the boys disembarked at the camp 
 boat-landing, tired, sleepy, with cramped and aching limbs, and cold 
 to the very marrow of their bones. No indication of large game 
 had been heard. As the trapper had foretold, the ducks proved a 
 great annoyance. On nearing camp, they ran on them for the last 
 time. "Confound those ducks!" whispered the trapper; "open 
 your jack, Harry, and give 'em a dose." Harry did so, and with 
 one shot killed two. It's true, the heavy, flat-pointed bullet laid 
 them open, until they looked more like the remains from a railroad 
 accident than game fit for food ; but that was a matter of appear- 
 ance rather than reality. The trapper was so loud and long in his 
 praise of the shot that it was with reassured self-respect and re- 
 newed confidence in himself that Harry rolled himself in his blank- 
 ets and fell asleep. 
 
 mm 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The Woodsman's Axe and its Dangers.— An Accident. — "Grab it, there's buttons 
 on it !"— Moose-calling.— The Trapper calls. — A Moose at last. — A startling En- 
 counter. 
 
 A FTER breakfast, the next day, Harry asked, " What are we go- 
 ■£** ing to do to-day, Mr. Dant ?" 
 
 " The first thing is to build up our wood-pile, which is getting 
 low. We must lay in enough to last till to-morrow and one day 
 more. To-morrow we ought to get out of here for the lake, moose 
 or no moose. I always make it a rule to have at least one day's 
 firewood cut and in camp ; for we always leave a camp by day- 
 light and when we are fresh, but we generally come to a camp in 
 the evening when we are tired, and often when it's too dark to see 
 to use an axe with safety. You can come along and help carry in 
 the wood, if you like." 
 
 To see the trapper use his axe was always a fresh revelation to 
 the boys. Not only did the result accomplished seem out of all 
 proportion to the time and labor expended, but he appeared to have 
 perfect control of what that result should be. Every time he 
 felled a tree, he told the boys where it would fall and where they 
 
218 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 should stand to be in safety, and every time his prediction was 
 accurately fulfilled. 
 
 Before long, Harry, as usual, began to effervesce. " Oh, Mr. 
 Dant, please let me try the axe a little while, and show me how. 
 You ought to have seen us the night we camped on the island in 
 the river — the night before our shipwreck. You do more in half a 
 minute than I could do then in nearly an hour, and I tried my best, 
 too. I don't want to get caught that way again ; for I can see now 
 that a person might just as well be without his ten fingers in the 
 woods, as without an axe and knowing how to use it.'' 
 
 " You are quite right, Harry, that an axe and skill to use it 
 are both indispensable in the woods. But they are no place for 
 a beginner to learn its use. Hospitals and doctors are scarce up 
 here. An axe is good for nothing unless sharp, and where it falls 
 it leaves its mark, no matter whether what its edge strikes is 
 living or dead. Of all the dangers of the woods its use is by far 
 the greatest. A knot, a twig, almost any unexpected thing met 
 in the downward blow, may make the axe glance, and before you 
 know it the mischief is done. The better the axeman, the more 
 ready to admit the danger even to himself; and if it is a danger 
 to one who can almost split a hair at every blow, how much great- 
 er must it be to one who, like you, has no idea when he strikes 
 where within four or five inches the axe will fall. No ; you let 
 the axe altogether alone, both of you. Kemember, you are not 
 to touch it at all under any circumstances. I have seen too much 
 trouble from that sort of thing in my day ever to want to see any 
 more if I can help it." 
 
 " Of course I knew that an axe would cut a man as well as a 
 log," said Dick, " but I never thought such a thing was likely to 
 happen by accident." 
 
 " It is liable to happen by accident, and it's liable to happen to 
 any one, no matter how good a woodsman he may be," replied the 
 trapper. " Two years ago last September an accident of that kind 
 happened at this very camp. I was over here with another guide 
 and two gentlemen. My companion found one of the gentlemen 
 amusing himself by trying to split wood with his axe. He took it 
 
AN ACCIDENT. 219 
 
 away, warning him of the danger, and telling him that we would 
 do all the axe-work required, and went on to finish what the gen- 
 tleman was at. Now, a better hand with an axe than my compan- 
 ion couldn't be found. He had been at it all his life. Yet the 
 second or third blow he made he split his foot nearly to the instep, 
 and that in broad daylight, and almost in the door-way of the camp. 
 I was down at the boat-landing when it happened. The shouts of 
 the gentlemen soon brought me up. There I saw my companion 
 sitting on the ground as pale as death, holding his foot together 
 with his hands, the blood streaming out between his fingers. It 
 couldn't have been more than a minute after it occurred, but it 
 seemed to me as if he had bled a quart already. I was scared al- 
 most stiff, I can tell you. There he was, how badly hurt I couldn't 
 tell, two days from help for the most able-bodied man, unable to 
 move himself, and with miles and miles of unbroken forest to be 
 passed somehow. But that was no time to consider the future un- 
 less we proposed to limit our help to digging a hole to put him in, 
 for at that rate he'd soon bleed to death. I told the gentlemen to 
 hold his foot together the best they could so as to stop the bleed- 
 ing as much as possible, while I grabbed a tin cup and jumped for 
 the woods. I filled the cup half full of pitch from fir-trees as 
 quick as I could, but when I got back he had fainted from loss of 
 blood. We then cut off his shoe and stocking, brought the wound 
 together, wiped off the blood, plastered his foot all over with pitch, 
 tore up our shirts and bound it up tight. That stopped the bleed- 
 ing. We then carried him inside, dosed him with some brandy one 
 of the gentlemen had, and laid him on the bunk. 
 
 " Well, to make a long story short, we made a litter, and for 
 three days, as long as we could see, we lugged him through the 
 woods, camping just where night overtook us. The gentlemen act- 
 ed like bricks. It was a new kind of thing to them, not being used 
 to hard labor, but they stuck to it as though it was the very thing 
 they had come up here for. We reached the lake in the afternoon, 
 rowed across it, got a lantern, and kept right on across the carry to 
 the Forks. It must have been nearly ten o'clock at night when 
 we reached the river, and we were pretty well played out ; but we 
 
220 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 didn't stop on that account. We put him aboard a boat, making 
 him as comfortable as we could, rowed all night down the river, 
 carried him from the head of the falls to the road, then hunted up a 
 team, and drove him into the settlement. The gentlemen were com- 
 pletely exhausted. At first they couldn't eat a thing Avithout being 
 sick, and I began to be scared about them ; but a couple of days' 
 rest brought them round all right." 
 
 " Did he get well ?" asked Harry. 
 
 " Yes, he pulled through it after a while ; but then he was in 
 perfect health and as tough as a pine -knot. I believe the aver- 
 age city man would have died on the way. There isn't a year 
 passes that some one I know doesn't hurt himself that way ; and 
 they don't all get off as well as that, by any means. I know two 
 brothers, experienced axemen, one of whom lost his leg, and the 
 other became lamed for life from axe-wounds in the knee, both in 
 the same season. You think I can use an axe ; yet down on that 
 boat-landing I split my hand open about five years ago. I tried to 
 stick it out. but the consequence was I was forced to leave the 
 woods for a doctor, and came mighty near losing my hand. It was 
 over three months before I could do anything. ]So ; you take my 
 word for it, a man who isn't used to an axe has no business with it 
 — at least, with any axe sharp enough to be good for anything up 
 here." 
 
 " Now you explain it," said Dick, " I can easily see that it must 
 be very dangerous, but it never occurred to me before. I promise 
 you I won't touch the axe." 
 
 " Nor I either," said Harry. 
 
 "You'd better grab that idea and hang on to it." said the trap- 
 per. " There's buttons on it." 
 
 " There's what ?" exclaimed Dick and Harry, in a breath. 
 
 " You never heard that expression before, I suppose. It's com- 
 mon enough, though, among us woodsmen, whenever we want to 
 encourage any one to do a thing. It means that it will pay to do 
 it. There's a story connected with it, but I think by this time you 
 must be sick enough of my yarns." 
 
 " Let's have it," said Harry. " I like your stories first-rate." 
 
GRAB IT, THERE'S BUTTONS ON IT 
 
 221 
 
 m'.TWKHN THE LAKE AND THE FoKKS. 
 
 " Well, I'm glad of that. I began to be afraid you'd think my 
 tongue wagged at both ends, like an old woman's. But you see, 
 all the talking I am to do from now until well into May must 
 be done while you're here. After you leave, it will most likely 
 be five months before I have any one to speak to again. We'd 
 
222 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 better get our wood in now. After dinner I'll tell you about it, if 
 you like." 
 
 By the time the wood was cut, split, carried to camp, and piled 
 up, preparations for dinner were in order. Dinner over, Harry 
 reminded the trapper of his promise. 
 
 " You remember the man that I rode over with the deer? Well, 
 the expression originated with him. Billy had a regular craze for 
 collecting things, and its main object was buttons. I believe he had 
 nearly half a bushel, in which could be found every known size, 
 shape, and material. It was in the fall, and he and another man 
 were bound out of the woods for the winter, and I was to help them 
 down the river, and return alone with some supplies. We had a lot 
 of stuff to take down, including Billy's museum of buttons; and as 
 the river was pretty well up, we concluded to try to run it in a boat 
 over the rapids between the lake and the Forks, instead of backing 
 it over the carry. There's about five miles of those rapids — in 
 places very nasty. The best of it isn't much better than the Big 
 Rip, where you came to grief. We arranged for the man to take 
 the bow, I the stern, and Billy to go in the middle as passenger. 
 Through the worst of it we intended to drop her down on poles the 
 way I explained to you — that is, hold her back with our setting- 
 poles, and let her down slow and easy. 
 
 ''Everything went all right for nearly two -thirds of the way. 
 Then we came to about as cruel-looking a piece of water as I care 
 to see. The current was running like a mill - race, roaring and 
 foaming feather - white over and among the rocks. Just as we 
 were fairly into it, the bow-man jammed his pole between a couple 
 of stones and couldn't get it out. He hung to the pole, which 
 bent like a trout-rod, but it was no use. He had to get out of the 
 boat or let it go, for alone I couldn't force the boat up against 
 the stream, to save my neck. I was in the wrong end of the 
 boat for that. He let go. The check he put on the boat by 
 hanging on to the pole gave her a set in-shore and nearly upset 
 us. In an instant the current caught and carried her towards 
 an old tree which had fallen into the river, over and under which 
 the water boiled and foamed in a way that made me wish I was 
 
A DANGEROUS POSITION 
 
 THERE S ABOUT FIVE MILES OF THOSE RAPIDS — IN PLACES VERY NASTY. 
 
 back at the lake. If the current set us up against that tree, I 
 knew it would roll us over in a little less than no time, and sweep 
 the boat and all that was in it under the tree. If any of us did 
 come out on the other side, I knew, at any rate, we'd get such a 
 
224 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 curry - combing on the way as would make us think we'd gone 
 through a threshing-machine. It was a time to make a man stir 
 himself, if there was any stir in him, and you may just believe that 1 
 clawed water with that pole all I knew. It was a close squeak, but 
 we were just going clear. Then in an evil moment Billy caught 
 sight of an old jacket which some one had abandoned, hanging on 
 the tree. He couldn't stand the temptation. Starting to his feet, 
 he sung out, 'Grab it, there's buttons on it!' It was no kind of a 
 time or place for a bear-dance, anyway. The boat was already half 
 full of water from the trouble with the pole, and was in no condi- 
 tion to stand any more nonsense. Before I could get my mouth 
 more than half-way open to tell him to keep quiet, the boat was 
 bottom up, and we were finning it in the water for dear life. 
 
 " When we'd fished out ourselves and such of our belongings as 
 we could find, ' Grab it, there's buttons on it !' had made an impres- 
 sion on us not easy to forget. So to this day all through this neigh- 
 borhood, if any man is in doubt whether he ought to do a thing or 
 not, if any one encourages him to try it, it is always by the words, 
 ' Grab it, there's buttons on it !' " 
 
 " I should think you would have been awful mad," said Harry. 
 
 " Well, I have seen times when I have been better pleased," re- 
 plied the trapper, " but there was no time for talk if we wanted to 
 save any of our stuff, particularly the boat. Then the water was 
 about as cold as it well could be and not be solid, and there was a 
 freezing wind blowing. But I'm not sure if the cream of the per- 
 formance was not diving in the eddy below the tree for our axes. 
 I don't think I ever went into a job with any less enthusiasm. It 
 had to be done, though, for we had to have a fire. One axe was all 
 that was absolutely necessary, and when we had that we didn't dive 
 any longer for anything else. Even the precious collection of but- 
 tons couldn't induce Billy to take another souse. Some fellow will 
 find a regular button-mine in the river one of these days. Then 
 how he will wonder how it got there !" 
 
 "Do you think we shall have a good night for moose-calling?" 
 asked Dick. 
 
 "The weather looks promising now," replied the trapper, "but 
 
HOW TO CALL FOR MOOSE. 
 
 ±11 
 
 you mustn't get your ideas up too high. It's pretty late in the sea- 
 son for it now. Unless a bull that has no cow with him happens 
 to be within hearing, we won't make anything at it." 
 
 " How do you call them ?" asked Harry. 
 
 " To begin at the beginning, the first thing is to make a horn. 
 To do this, a cone of wood about two feet long and about five 
 inches across the base must be made. Then good, sound white 
 birch bark is soaked in hot water, wrapped round the cone until it's 
 
 MADE ME WISH I WAS BACK AT THE LAKE. 
 
 about an eighth of an inch thick, and then tied there until it dries. 
 When dry, the bark is taken off the cone, and fastened together by 
 sewing it with a brad-awl and a thong of leather or a piece of twine. 
 Then the ends are squared off with a knife so that the small end of 
 the horn shows a hole about one inch, and the big end an opening 
 from four and a half to five inches across ; and a thing which looks 
 like a big speaking-trumpet without a mouth-piece is the result. It 
 isn't every piece of bark that will give the proper ring, and when 
 we get a horn that's all right, we value it. 
 
228 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " As I told yon, it's the call of the cow that we try to imitate. 
 If they only made one sound it would be comparatively easy, but 
 they don't. I sometimes have thought they had a regular language 
 made up of sighs, grunts, groans, howls, and roars, running from 
 one into the other, and varying in order so that it seems as if there 
 wasn't any rule about it. Still, for a caller to grunt when he ought 
 to howl, or get the order of things wrong and let out a roar before 
 the groan, when it should have followed it, is dead ruin to his 
 chances of success. To call up a moose to within thirty or forty 
 yards, if it can get as near as that without leaving cover, is not very 
 difficult ; and a good many mistakes may be made without affecting 
 that result. But then it answers the call with its big head brimful 
 of suspicion, and to coax it out into the open ground is next to 
 hopeless ; and unless that can be done a shot is impossible. 
 
 " It is a hard thing to do at any time. They hate to quit the 
 cover. Up to its edge they will come, and range up and down just 
 out of sight, thrashing about and making an awful row. Then they 
 will try to work in a circle around the place from where the call 
 came. If they can do that and cross the hunter's trail, or get his 
 scent from the wind, that ends the thing at once. That moose has 
 pressing business somewhere else. That's the reason why so few 
 places up here are fit for moose - calling. You must have cover 
 from which to call, the ground around it must be so open that the 
 moon will show the animal up, and the trail to the stand must be 
 completely under the command of the rifle. 
 
 " Sometimes a moose will range up and down in the edge of the 
 cover that way for almost an hour. One minute you think he is 
 coming out, the next that he is oif for good ; and so it goes on. Of 
 all the forms of hunting I know anything about, it's altogether the 
 most exciting. 
 
 " That's the time for a real artist in moose-calling to show him- 
 self. He grunts, groans, howls, roars, sighs, rasps his horn against 
 the bushes like a bull-moose polishing his antlers, and even gives the 
 bull's challenge as a last resort. He does these and many other 
 things, all in their proper order and place, not too loud, yet loud 
 enough, and no two of the same loudness. Among all these he 
 
MOOSE-CALLING. 
 
 229 
 
 must choose which of the many is the right thing to do, and make 
 no mistake about it either in choice or imitation. For when the 
 moose is so near he is a mighty keen critic, and not to be fooled 
 unless everything is just right. Then, besides knowing what sounds 
 
 MOOSE-CALLING. 
 
 to make, and how to make them, the caller must know when to 
 keep silent altogether. My way is to keep still when a moose is 
 near, and to speak to it only when it has ranged to some little dis- 
 tance. Even then, the best plan, in my judgment, is for the caller 
 to leave the man who is to shoot, and to move back forty or fifty 
 
230 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 yards if he can, and give the bull's challenge. A bull-moose is the 
 strictest kind of a monopolist. He won't stand any interlopers, 
 and if that call doesn't fetch him out nothing will. 
 
 "A bull-moose may answer the original call by a single short, 
 sharp sound, very feeble for such a big animal, and something like a 
 dog's bark ; or it may say nothing at all. But whether it answers 
 or not, it will come as straight as the crow flies to the spot from 
 where the call proceeded. Tso matter how dark the woods may be 
 — and you know it's dark in there even on the brightest moonlight 
 night — it seems never to lose its reckoning. If the call has been all 
 right it will probably come crashing through the woods without a 
 thought of concealment ; but if its suspicions have been aroused 
 not a sound will warn you of its approach until it is within a few 
 yards. A good caller on a favorable night can be heard over two 
 miles. No mistake is worse than to call too often. My rule is to 
 call, and then wait three-quarters of an hour. The call may have 
 been heard, and the moose may be coming. It may not have an- 
 swered at all, or it may have answered out of hearing — at any rate. 
 it may be quite near even though nothing has been heard from it. 
 To give a moose a chance to criticise so long a performance as the 
 original call at close quarters would give the trick away at once. 
 Three-quarters of an hour is. however, plenty long enough and to 
 spare to give any moose within hearing time to come up and make 
 itself known. This time must be given strictly to listening, and 
 nothing else. No talking, nor moving about — nothing but listening 
 with all your might. To hear the animal as soon as possible, so 
 that the caller can judge what temper it is in and how it may best 
 be coaxed, is of the utmost importance. 
 
 " Very often, I might almost say generally, nothing will be 
 heard. I then call again, and wait as before. If this fails, a third 
 trial may be made ; but if there is any other fit place within reach, 
 it is better to try it there. If there isn't, and the third call fails, 
 you may as well give it up. Either no bull-moose is within hearing 
 distance, or if there is, it already has a companion, and won't come, 
 anyhow. 
 
 " Nothing in my experience with moose, caribou, and deer aston- 
 
MOOSE-CALLING. 231 
 
 ishes me more than the way they can get through the woods at 
 night. As I said before, any solitary bull -moose will locate the 
 sound of a call two miles or more away, and come for it as straight 
 as if he was on a turnpike, no matter how dark the night or rough 
 the ground over which it must pass. Start one of these animals 
 from the bank of a stream or pond on the darkest kind of a night, 
 and it will go through the woods on the keen jump over rocks and 
 windfalls where a man could hardly make a hundred feet in half 
 an hour. You would think they would break their thin legs like 
 pipe-stems more than forty times before they'd covered a quarter of 
 a mile, but somehow they don't. How they do it beats me." 
 
 About eight o'clock that evening Harry and Dick found them- 
 selves perched on a platform built of poles in the tops of a clump 
 of small spruces, one of the many islands of trees which dotted the 
 surface of the bog. The margin of the stream could be seen not 
 thirty yards distant, and through the middle of the open ground 
 they had reached their stand under the guidance of the trapper. 
 Nothing could approach their trail without exposing itself to view. 
 On every side, the full moon glistened like silver on the whitish 
 moss which carpeted the bog, which was open to view for forty or 
 fifty yards in every direction. The boys saw at once, from what 
 the trapper had told them, that the place was well chosen. 
 
 They first climbed to their perch, and then hoisted up their 
 blankets by a rope. They then lowered the rope, the trapper fast- 
 ened it to the rifle, climbed up himself, and the rifle was pulled up. 
 The trapper then placed the boys in a position to face the hills 
 from which he expected the game would come, if it came at all, 
 wrapped them up in their blankets, loaded the rifle, half-cocked it, 
 put it in Harry's hands, and cautioned the boys to be still and to 
 keep their ears open. He then rose to his knees, facing the mount- 
 ains, applied his horn to his lips, its mouth pointing directly down- 
 ward. Again and again he inflated his lungs and silently breathed 
 through the horn to dampen its interior, and thus facilitate the pro- 
 duction of the tone. 
 
 Then taking in the last cubic inch of air he could find room for, 
 
CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 I 
 
 he began. A weird, unearthly sound rose on the still night air — 
 not loud at first, but gradually gaining in strength and rising in 
 pitch, until it died away in a strain so wild, so plaintive, it would 
 almost move a heart of stone. During the call, which may have 
 lasted some thirty seconds, the mouth of the horn had gradually 
 described a figure in the air something like the figure eight, the high- 
 est elevation coinciding with the loudest part of the call ; and the 
 movement was completed, and the call died away, with the mouth 
 
 of the horn again pointing direct- 
 S*' --„, ly downward. During the call the 
 
 ,' \ head of the trapper conformed to 
 
 the movement of the horn by bend- 
 ing his neck, and the result was a 
 peculiar quavering inflection diffi- 
 cult to obtain otherwise and essen- 
 tial to success. 
 
 A pause of two or three seconds 
 and again the cry rang out. This 
 time it was pitched a little higher 
 in the scale, and the greatest vol- 
 ume of sound was nearer the begin- 
 ning, the pitch again rising with the 
 intensity of the tone, quavering, and 
 dying away as before. 
 
 Another pause briefer than be- 
 fore, and again the call broke the 
 oppressive stillness of the night. It 
 began with every accent of impatience, and as loud as would ad- 
 mit of an increase of power at the finish. The intensity of the 
 tone was varied from both previous calls, as was the motion of the 
 horn, until, with its mouth pointing directly at the mountain, the 
 call ended in a Avild roar, delivered with all the power of the 
 trapper's lungs, and terminating abruptly in silence when at its 
 very loudest. 
 
 Then followed the weary wait. It was their jacking experience 
 over again. First they thought they heard all sorts of things ; then 
 
 MOVEMENT OP THE HORN IN THE 
 MOOSE-CALL. 
 
 o, mouth of the horn. Arrows show direc 
 tion of motion. 
 
A MOOSE AT LAST. 233 
 
 they doubted if they had really heard anything ; and finally con- 
 cluded they could not distinguish what they actualh 7 heard from 
 what they fancied they heard. The cold and the cramps, too, 
 repeated themselves. Again and again Harry asked the trapper 
 in a whisper whether it wasn't time to call again, and again and 
 again received "No" for his answer. At last, after what both 
 boys felt sure must be at least two hours, the trapper whispered, 
 " I'll call again ; and if we hear nothing, our only chance is to try 
 the jack." 
 
 The call was made as before. At last, after an apparently in- 
 terminable time, the trapper said : "I was afraid it would turn out 
 this way so late in the season ; but it doesn't follow, because there 
 is no solitary bull in hearing, that there is nothing for us. Stretch 
 yourselves and get the cramps out of you before you try to climb 
 down. I'll lower the rifle first, then you get down and unfasten 
 it, and I'll lower the other things. Then chase one another about 
 a while till you get warm, and we'll try the jack " 
 
 The boat had proceeded some half-mile down-stream, stealing 
 along without a sound under the shadow of the bank. The boys 
 had abandoned all hope. They had lost all reckoning of where 
 they were, or how far distant the now earnestly wished for camp 
 might be. Suddenly they heard a sound below them, slow and 
 measured — " slosh, slosh, slosh." Then silence followed. There was 
 no mistaking this time that the sound was actual and not imagi- 
 nary, and that it differed from anything they had heard before. 
 But were there room for doubt, it was instantly removed by the 
 shaking of the boat. It was the preconcerted signal. They had 
 come on large game other than deer at last. 
 
 A moment before, the boys had felt chilled to the bone. Now 
 the blood coursed through their veins like fire, and tingled to their 
 very finger-ends. It seemed to them as though the dullest ear must 
 detect their labored breathing and the loud beating of their hearts. 
 If the boat had moved slowly before, a glance at the moonlit shore 
 showed that it moved doubly slow now. Foot by foot, it barely 
 crept along close under the shadow of the bank. Again the same 
 sound was heard, and a^ain silence followed it. The animal was 
 
234 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 evidently still in the water, but how long would it remain there \ 
 Why did not the boat push on to meet it before it could escape ? 
 
 At last came the low whisper, " Open the jack." In his excite- 
 ment and hurry Harry fumbled the fastening some little time, but 
 at last the cover dropped and the light streamed out. At the in- 
 stant, out of the gloom in front of him, not much over thirty 
 feet distant, appeared two great objects, dim and shadowy, of 
 elephantine size. Their unexpected bulk, and the green, malevo- 
 lent glare of their eyes under the light, paralyzed Harry for the 
 moment. He stared at them without a motion. A moment later 
 from the stern of the boat came the low whisper, " You've got to 
 shoot." 
 
 At the sound, low as it was, the larger of the two animals turned, 
 rushed across the stream with tremendous splashings, and crashed 
 into the woods on the farther bank. The smaller hesitated, fol- 
 lowed half-way, turned back again almost to the bank, then again 
 changed its mind and moved once more to follow its companion. 
 By this time Harry had recovered himself. He threw his rifle 
 to his shoulder, and, mindful of what he had been told, leaned for- 
 ward till the light settled well on its back sight, drew as careful an 
 aim on the front of the animal's body as his shaking hands would 
 permit, and pulled the trigger. In the confined space between the 
 overarching trees the report of the rifle sounded like a perfect crash, 
 and the sudden flash of light from its muzzle blinded him. 
 
 The next instant came the whisper, " Close the jack ;" and the 
 canoe withdrew twenty or thirty yards up-stream, and nestling 
 close in to the shaded bank, came to a stop. Five, ten, fifteen min- 
 utes passed without a sound. Then the trapper spoke in his natural 
 voice. 
 
 " You've done it this time, Harry. That's our meat sure." 
 
 " Are you really sure, Mr. Dant ? It seems too good to be true." 
 
 " As sure as death and taxes," replied the trapper. " It hasn't 
 left the water, and it would have done it before this if it could. 
 You may rely on it you've killed a moose for once in your life." 
 
 " So those were moose V said Dick. " They looked big enough 
 for elephants." 
 
i m 
 
 MOOSE-HUNTING BY JACK-LIGHT. 
 
"THAT'S OUR MEAT SURE." 237 
 
 " Yes, those were moose, a bull and a cow. Harry's got the 
 cow. I told you they showed up mighty big under a jack. Did 
 you notice the horns on the bull ?" 
 
 " Notice them V said Dick. " I should think I did ! They looked 
 in that uncertain light as if they were at least six feet across ; and 
 how it did switch them about before it made up its mind what to 
 do! How high do you suppose that bull was at the fore-shoulder, 
 Mr. Dant ?" 
 
 " It's pretty hard to say, as it stood in a foot or so of water. 
 But it was about as large a moose as you often see. I should say it 
 would stand very close to seven feet high. Anyway, you may 
 make up your minds that you will have to hunt these woods for a 
 long time before you will see a bigger one. That is, any one but 
 you would." 
 
 " Why any one but us ?" asked Harry. 
 
 " Because for cold luck you lads beat the record. The charm 
 hasn't always seemed to work really first-rate on the water, but as 
 far as chancing on game is concerned when everything is against 
 you, I never saw anything like it. You couldn't have chosen a 
 worse time during the whole year than this. It's betwixt and be- 
 tween, either too early or too late for any kind of hunting. Yet 
 three moose, a caribou, and three deer have put themselves in your 
 way during the short time you have been up here. There wasn't 
 one chance in five hundred to-night of our coming on a moose cross- 
 ing the river, and that was our only show after our calling failed. 
 Yet you came on two, and just at the right minute, too." 
 
 " Our luck may be good, Mr. Dant," said Harry, " but our man- 
 agement, as soon as we can't rely on you, about makes it even. 
 Why didn't I get the bull instead of the cow ? Because I'm such a 
 lunk-head that I was gaping at them as if they were made of fire- 
 works and I was waiting to see them blow up. If you hadn't whis- 
 pered to me, and the bull hadn't started out, I don't believe I'd have 
 thought of firing until now. It's no use, Mr. Dant. I begin to 
 think I'm good for nothing in the woods except to make a fool 
 of myself. If Dick had been in my place he would have got the 
 bull sure." 
 
238 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " Oh, come, Harry, what's the use of talking that way ?" replied 
 Dick. " I don't believe I would have done half as well. I don't 
 see how any one could have done much better than to kill his game 
 right on the spot with a single shot. I didn't do that with my deer, 
 though I had daylight to shoot by. To see those great animals sud- 
 denly start out of the night, apparently as big as a small church, and 
 with a look in their eyes as if they were just hungering to eat you 
 up, is enough to make any one forget himself for a minute." 
 
 " Right you are, Dick," said the trapper. " Harry has done first- 
 rate. I only wish he could see what the most of them do the first 
 time they try a moose. He'd think then he was a regular Napoleon 
 Bonaparte among sportsmen, instead of fancying he is good for 
 nothing. That bull was old and tough. The way he got out of 
 there showed he had the wisdom which comes from long experience. 
 He didn't stop to fool any time away on sentiment for his com- 
 panion, but just took care of his own hide without a second's hesi- 
 tation. The cow will be ever so much better eating, and if Harry 
 is mourning for the head and horns, and thinking how he would 
 have liked to show them at home, why, I can tell him we could not 
 have taken them out from here, anyway. There's a limit to what 
 a man's back can carry. But now that we've talked the thing over, 
 suppose we open the jack and hunt up our game." 
 
 A short distance below, they found it lying dead upon a gravel- 
 bar at the edge of the shallow water. After the boys had had some 
 time to examine their trophy, the trapper said : 
 
 " Well, boys, I suppose we had better think of camp now. We'll 
 leave the moose here, since it won't run away before to-morrow 
 morning, and because we can't move it anyway till we've cut it up. 
 Dick, you take the bow and the rifle ; Harry, you take the middle 
 seat, close the jack, and let's be off. Keep quiet, and perhaps I may 
 show you another surprise before we get through." 
 
 As the boat ran down the stream the boys thought they had 
 never experienced a night so still. The many sounds that usually 
 attract attention after dark in the woods of the settlements were 
 entirely wanting. It seemed like the silence of death itself. Sud- 
 denly, from within thirty feet of the boat came a noise as though a 
 
A QUIET DIVE. 
 
 239 
 
 stone at least two feet in diameter had been hurled from the top of 
 some high tree into the water. 
 
 Both boys gave a violent start. " Good gracious ! what's that ?" 
 exclaimed Harry. 
 
 tk That's the surprise I said I'd show you," replied the trapper. 
 " That's what I wanted you to keep quiet for. Now you can make 
 as much noise as you like." 
 
 " But what was it?" asked Dick. 
 
 " That was one of our friends the beavers taking a quiet dive. 
 That's the way they do when they are scared when swimming on 
 the surface. Sometimes they'll keep it up for ten minutes on end, 
 at the rate of one dive a minute or oftener." 
 
 " But I thought you said a beaver weighed only sixty pounds," 
 said Harry. " The thing that made that noise must have weighed 
 half a ton at least." 
 
 " I know it sounds so," replied the trapper. " That's where the 
 surprise comes in. It's so hard to believe an animal not much over 
 two feet long can make a noise the size of a two-story house, but 
 it's a fact all the same. I've seen them do it many a time when I've 
 come on them moonlight nights, and wished they'd take themselves 
 and their noise somewhere else." 
 
 Soon afterwards they arrived at camp, tired but happy. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Return to the Lake.— "Tit for tat,"— The Trapper Lectures on Caribou. — Appear- 
 ance of the Caribou.— Habits of the Caribou.— The Caribou's Curious Tricks on 
 the Ice. — Food of the Caribou. — A Trial of Speed. — A Chase on Snow-shoes. — A 
 Caribou Hunt. 
 
 TN" the evening of the third day after the death of the moose the 
 -*- boys drew near the lake with the last of their meat. Nothing 
 but solid flesh free of bones and from the best parts of the animal 
 had been brought, yet more than once fatigue had made them al- 
 most wish it still on foot in the forest. The last day had been un- 
 usually trying. A tempest of cold rain and sleet prevailed. The 
 boys were astonished to find how much sooner they became wet 
 through, and how much more thoroughly they were soaked in the 
 woods, than would have been the case had they been exposed to 
 the full fury of the storm without the apparent shelter of the 
 trees. Every bush was charged with moisture, which showered 
 down on them with the slightest touch, and which was forced 
 through their clothes to their skins by incessant contact with the 
 
RETURN TO THE LAKE. 241 
 
 many obstacles which had to be surmounted in their way. The 
 ground became soft and soapy, while every root seemed as if it 
 were greased. To add to their difficulties, their pack -straps be- 
 came soggy and cut their shoulders, while the chill of their wet 
 garments prohibited all but the briefest possible halts for rest. In 
 vain the trapper laughed, joked, and exerted himself to keep up 
 their spirits. The way seemed interminable. It was a phase of 
 forest life they had never taken into consideration before, and a 
 most unpleasant one they thought it. When at length the lake 
 appeared, two more utterly wretched persons had seldom ap- 
 proached its shores. 
 
 Nor when the boat was at last reached were they allowed to 
 rest. Each was given an oar, while the trapper used the paddle, till 
 they landed before the camp. The boys had seen some magnificent 
 buildings in their day, but never upon any one of them had their 
 eyes rested with such pleasure as upon that humble log-hut. 
 
 The moment they were ashore the trapper said : " I'll look out 
 for things here, you bounce for camp the best you know, strip to 
 the skin, and roll yourselves up in the dry blankets hanging over 
 the bunk. Then lie there till I come up and start the fire." They 
 did so. The trapper pulled his boat high on the shore and fastened 
 it, took care of the meat, built a fire in camp, and made some hot 
 tea, of which he insisted that the boys should each drink nearly a 
 pint. Then, and not till then, did he seem to begin to consider his 
 
 own comfort. 
 
 * 
 
 All night long the wind roared, and sheets of rain, alternating 
 with blinding snow-squalls, beat upon the camp. In the morning 
 the storm still continued. After breakfast the trapper said : 
 
 " Well, boys, how do you feel after yesterday's little pleasure 
 tramp ?" 
 
 " I'm all right !" said Dick. " My shoulders are rather sore yet 
 and I'm a little stiff, but it doesn't amount to anything." 
 
 " That's just my case," added Harry. " But, Mr. Dant, as things 
 go in the woods, don't you call yesterday a pretty hard day ? You 
 kept whistling and singing and firing off your jokes ; but honestly 
 now, didn't you think to yourself it was pretty tough ?" 
 16 
 
242 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " The woods are never very pleasant in wet weather," replied the 
 trapper, " especially if it's cold wet weather; and, loaded as we were, 
 it was what any woodsman would call a pretty rough tramp. But 
 still, I will see many and many a worse one before the winter s over. 
 You stuck it out first-rate, though — better than I expected, consider- 
 ing the loads you had." 
 
 " I don't know what you expected," said Dick, " but I do know 
 one thing, and that is, long before we reached the lake I thought I 
 wouldn't be able to get over another half-mile." 
 
 " Why didn't you say so ?" replied the trapper, " and I would 
 have taken part of your load, or hung it on a tree and gone back 
 for it. Ten or fifteen pounds on top of a man's load make a won- 
 derful difference with his travelling; particularly in wet weather, 
 when everything underfoot is so slippery. But you city people are 
 all alike. If you don't always know what ought to be done in the 
 woods as well as you think you do, you almost always have first- 
 class pluck. I've seen many a city man stick to a pack to which he 
 was entirely unaccustomed, when many countrymen, if so over- 
 worked, would have insisted on camping at once. I'll never forget 
 one case of the kind. But there, I was nearly running off into 
 another story." 
 
 " Oh, do let's have it !" said Dick. " There's nothing to do to- 
 day except to listen to the wind roar and the pouring of the rain, 
 is there ?" 
 
 '•Well, no, I don't know as there is," replied the trapper; "so 
 here goes. 
 
 " One year a party of gentlemen arranged with me to meet them 
 over in Canada to guide them to this camp through the woods. 
 They were old hands at it, and had been up here a good deal and 
 had seen most of the country. This was to be a new trip. They 
 were an athletic lot, tennis and ball players, runners, jumpers, 
 and I don't know what all. It's about a four days' tramp to get 
 through if you are reasonably industrious. They had only one 
 fault. They had a lot of novels with them, and after breakfast 
 mornings they'd loll round smoking and reading. When the time 
 came to make up packs and start, some one would always want ' to 
 
AT THE BOG. 
 
 243 
 
 WHEN AT LENGTH THE LAKE APPEARED. 
 
 just finish this chapter. 1 When he was through, another would be 
 in the same fix, and so on. So we always made late starts and late 
 camps, which is just the wrong way in the woods. At last we 
 reached the camp over at the bog. We talked it over that evening, 
 and all agreed to turn over a new leaf after that and get away at a 
 reasonable hour the next day. When morning came we had to 
 get in some more fire-wood before we started, so as to leave one 
 
244 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 clay's dry fuel in camp. One of the party went by the nickname 
 of ' Tot.' While we guides were getting in the wood, he outs with 
 his novel and begins to read. When we were through and the 
 packs were all made up but his, as usual he ' just wanted to finish 
 this chapter.' 
 
 " We had knapsacks for all the party except one, and for him 
 we had a big pack-basket. As every one hated the pack-basket, 
 it was agreed that they should take turns at it. This was Tot's 
 day. When the other gentlemen found that Tot was at the old 
 game, they quietly took his basket down to the stream, dumped it, 
 hunted up the biggest stone they could find that could be coaxed 
 through its mouth, put it in, and covered it out of sight with the 
 things they had taken out. They then carried it back without Tot's 
 knowing it, made up his pack for him, and began once more to 
 tease him to start. At last he got through his chapter and said he 
 was ready. I thought he looked rather queer when he slung his pack, 
 but I supposed it was because he was vexed at their teasing him. 
 
 " We didn't go the way you did, as we wanted to visit some 
 ponds to the westward. We went down the bog stream and 
 crossed on the rocks. After that it's a steady pull uphill till the 
 top of the boundary ridge is reached. I led the way, with Tot just 
 behind me. By-and-by I thought I heard him breathing pretty 
 hard. Just then I climbed a tough windfall and turned to take a 
 look at him. I saw at once that it was time for him to rest, though 
 I thought it was rather queer that he should give out so quick ; so 
 I said, ' Boys, suppose we take a rest and smoke.' In a minute all 
 the packs were off, and every man put himself in the position he 
 thought most comfortable. Tot sat down on his pack, got out his 
 handkerchief, and began to mop himself. He looked as though he 
 needed it too. I went and brought him some water, which he 
 drank ; but he didn't seem to chipper up much. 
 
 " Then one of them said to another, ' Did you bring any speci- 
 mens from the bog ?' 
 
 " ' No ; did you V 
 
 ' ' Yes ; I always like to bring away a specimen or two from 
 every place I camp at. They're such a pleasant reminder/ 
 
A SPECIMEN FROM THE BOG. 
 
 2±5 
 
 Y ARE SPRING PONDS, AND MlfiHTY COLD. 
 
 " ' Why, what kind of specimen did you bring from the bog?' 
 
 " ' Oh, a geological specimen — a perfect beauty. If you want to 
 see it, it's in Tot's pack.' 
 
 " ' Get up, Tot, and let's have a look at it.' 
 
 " You ought to have seen his face when he saw that stone — a 
 stone about twice as big as an old-fashioned iron tea-kettle, and which 
 must have weighed over thirty pounds — come out of his pack." 
 
 " Wasn't he mad V asked Harry. 
 
 " No ; or, at any rate, he didn't show it if he was. He looked 
 kind of queer for a minute, and then said, ' All right, boys ; I owe 
 you one'— that was all. But the next day happened to be the 
 birthday of the man who was so fond of specimens. We were over 
 at the ponds. They are spring ponds, and mighty cold. The gen- 
 
240 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 tleman of geological tastes was reading away for dear life at a 
 novel. I noticed Tot whispering to the others. Suddenly they 
 grabbed the man who was reading, neck and heels, and carried him 
 down to the edge of the pond, in spite of his kicks and struggles. 
 Then Tot said : ' He wants a specimen of the water of this pond to 
 take away. It would be unkind for us to let him forget it. These 
 specimens are such pleasant reminders.'' Then they swung him, 
 'one,' 'two,' 'three,' and sent him flying out into that pond fifteen 
 feet or more. They were always skylarking with one another. It 
 was pretty rough play at times, but they seemed always to take it 
 in good part." 
 
 " By-the-way, Mr. Dant," said Dick, " I meant to speak to you 
 about something that happened the night we went moose-calling. 
 You had told us to be quiet at the time, so I couldn't speak of it 
 then, and I haven't thought of it since when it was convenient to 
 talk about it. How far do you suppose we were over there from 
 other people ?" 
 
 k * Of course I don't know for sure, but I doubt if there was a liv- 
 ing soul within fifty miles or more of us. Why '." 
 
 " Because," continued Dick, " I heard some one that evening fire 
 a double-barrelled gun, one barrel right after the other. It sounded 
 a little softer than a gun does close to — more like ' bung ! bung !' 
 than ' bang ! bang !' but of course the distance accounted for that, 
 as it was a long way off. Still, I'm sure I made no mistake about 
 hearing it, or that it was a gun." 
 
 " Oh no, you made no mistake," replied the trapper, " or rather 
 only a little mistake. You've only mistaken a bull-caribou for a 
 double-barrelled gun — that's all." 
 
 " What ?" exclaimed Harry. " I heard it too. You don't really 
 mean to say that a caribou made that noise? Oh, you're joking 
 us!" 
 
 " No, I'm not. That was really the call of a bull-caribou. Every- 
 body makes the same mistake when they hear it the first time, and 
 it's always hard to convince them it is a mistake. But that's the 
 fact all the same." 
 
 " We haven't anything better to do, Mr. Dant," said Dick. " Why 
 
HEAD OF A BULL-CARIBOU. 
 
CARIBOU. 249 
 
 can't you tell us something about caribou ? There's nothing I should 
 like better." 
 
 u Nor I either, 1 ' said Harry. 
 
 " All right ; I'd just as lief. The first thing is, naturally, how 
 it looks. A full-grown bull may stand five feet high at the fore- 
 shoulder, and weigh possibly seven hundred pounds. They are al- 
 ways white underneath and on the throat. Elsewhere they are red- 
 dish-brown in summer, mouse-color in the fall, growing grayer as 
 the winter advances, until the older bulls may be nearly white. In 
 size, color, form, and general appearance the head looks a good deal 
 like that of an Alderney cow, and if that cow was rather lightly 
 built it wouldn't give a bad idea of the shape of a caribou. The 
 horns are in the reindeer style, and in queerness are of a piece with 
 the disposition of the animal. Not only are the horns never alike 
 on any two different caribou, but the right and left horn of the 
 same animal always differ m shape. The older cows occasionally 
 have horns, though quite small ; and, as far as I know, are the only 
 kind of doe deer that ever do have horns. 
 
 " The winter coat of the caribou is very soft, and so thick that 
 it is impossible to work the fingers through the hair to the skin be- 
 neath. Its legs are slender, deer-shaped, and handsome, but they 
 end in hoofs out of all proportion in size. These hoofs are quite 
 low, measured from the ground up to where the hair begins, but 
 taken across the bottom parallel with the ground, they are almost 
 as big as a saucer. It's a good deal like a five-year-old boy standing 
 in his father's slippers. Their hoofs are hollow underneath and 
 quite sharp on the edges, so that a caribou can keep its footing on 
 slippery ice or logs like a goat. Its dew-claws are as large as an 
 ordinary deer's hoof, and are not for ornament but practical use. 
 When passing over snow or treacherous ground, the caribou spreads 
 out its deeply cloven hoof like a duck's foot, and bringing its dew- 
 claws into play to increase its bearing, it skims at full speed over a 
 surface which would stall a moose or a deer at once. 
 
 "Unlike the selfish and solitary moose, the caribou loves the 
 company of its kind. To-day it will act as if almost afraid of its 
 own shadow, and show a keenness of eye, ear, and nose which makes 
 I6—2 
 
250 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 an approach to within rifle-shot next to impossible. To-morrow it 
 will stand fire like a veteran soldier, and face the hunter with a 
 stupid stare, while he misses shot after shot in his anxiety to take 
 advantage of his opportunity. To-day it will follow^ for miles along 
 a trail after a man, as if it wanted to catch up with him and give 
 him a message. To-morrow, one sniff of the tainted track, and it 
 will not break its run for five miles. 
 
 " It never yards in winter, like the moose and deer, nor has it 
 their fondness for a particular locality. It is as likely to be found 
 on the tops and sides of the loftiest mountains as in the deepest 
 valleys, with no other apparent reason to guide it than the whim 
 of the moment. It has a most happy-go-lucky disposition, taking 
 the future as it comes, without a thought whether the sky is going 
 to fall or not until the pieces begin to clatter about its ears. It 
 will venture, without the slightest hesitation, on ice or on to a bog 
 unfit to bear a man, break through, splash and wallow about in the 
 most reckless fashion, and finally when it reaches the bank give 
 itself a shake, and look about with the air of a circus performer 
 who has just jumped over six elephants and is w r aiting for the 
 applause of the audience. 
 
 " It's as fond of the ice as a school-boy, and full as ready for a 
 frolic. After the ice has formed in November it is soon covered 
 with snow ; then comes rain, turning the snow into slush resting on 
 the firm ice underneath. Now, any sensible creature would keep 
 away from such a mess if it could, but to the caribou this is just the 
 time and place for a picnic. The herd goes out on the ice in single 
 file, then scatters, and each one falls to pawing up the slush with 
 its fore-feet. When this ceases to be fun, they fall on their knees 
 and seem to lap the ice with their tongues. Why they do it beats 
 me. It can't be from thirst, because they have crossed a dozen open 
 brooks in their morning ramble ; and besides, they couldn't every 
 one of them be suddenly taken so dry all at once. It's a queer 
 creature, is the caribou. I've known it now for a good many years. 
 You get to the bottom of the tricks of a deer or a moose after a 
 while, but a caribou has always a fresh surprise in stock. 
 
 " But to come back to the ice. After a while one will suspend 
 
A CARIBOU PICNIC. 
 
 251 
 
 operations, rise to its feet, seem to think things over generally for a 
 while, then go solemnly over to where another has mined down to a 
 piece of ice of extra flavor, and prod and poke its comrade with the 
 utmost vigor. The assaulted caribou rises to its feet and meekly re- 
 signs its place to the animal that has attacked it, which at once drops 
 
 HEAD OF A COW-CAKIBOU. 
 
 on its knees and continues the operations of the one it has driven 
 away ; while the ousted animal either passes along the compliment 
 to some other which it thinks it can bully, or digs a fresh place for 
 itself. Then perhaps all will lie down for a while, though one 
 would think such a bed was about as comfortable as the inside of 
 
252 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 an ice-cream freezer, and chew the cud, apparently as happy as you 
 please. Next, one will slowly rise to its feet, round up its back, and 
 stretch itself, look its comrades over until it picks out the one that 
 seems most comfortable, and then, like those fellows that are so 
 fond of early rising when there is no occasion for it, proceed to 
 kick and punch it until it also gets on its legs and joins in the game. 
 Soon all are on their feet, and falling in one behind the other in 
 single file, they start for the woods, headed by a leader, which is 
 always a bull, but not necessarily the biggest in the herd. 
 
 " They move off at a walk, their heads hanging down, just like 
 a lot of cows driven to pasture. Suddenly one will become pos- 
 sessed of a devil, and breaking from the ranks with a hop, skip, and 
 a jump, charge through the line again and again until it is thrown 
 into complete disorder. Then it will as suddenly fall into place 
 again as demure as a cat, as though it was just the last caribou in 
 the world to kick up a row. Then they will begin to move off as 
 before. It may be they will disappear into the woods on the meek- 
 est kind of a walk ; or, without the slightest apparent cause, the 
 whole herd will break into a run at a pace so keen you almost fancy 
 you can hear them whiz through the air. This burst of speed may 
 last for a hundred yards; it may be kept up through thick and 
 thin for five miles ; one is about as likely as the other. But I guess 
 I'm spinning the thing out rather too fine. To me a caribou is the 
 most interesting animal that ranges these woods. I've watched 
 them when they have been under the muzzle of my rifle by the 
 hour, so interested in their pranks that I couldn't find the heart to 
 fire. But I'll get over the ground quicker after this." 
 
 "Oh no, don't do anything of the kind," said Dick. "We 
 haven't anything else to do, so there's no hurry. You can't be too 
 long to please me. Before we came up here I read all I could get 
 hold of on the caribou, but I didn't find anything of this kind. I 
 didn't feel as if I got acquainted with the animal at all from what I 
 read ; but from what you tell me, it seems almost as if I could see 
 it. You needn't be afraid of tiring me, that you can be sure of. 
 What do you say, Harry ?" 
 
 "I say so too. These are just the things that interest me. I 
 
A THIRST FOR BLOOD. 
 
 253 
 
 read the same books, but they didn't go into the things that you tell 
 us at all. So do go on, and spin it out as thin as you can ; the thin- 
 ner the better." 
 
 " People who write books on these subjects," said the trapper, 
 " are not likely to hit on this kind of thing. When most men go 
 into the woods they seem to be just devoured with a thirst for 
 blood. If they get a chance to kill anything, they can't rest quiet 
 
 A&TiteST, 
 
 M 
 
 CARIBOU ON THE ICE. 
 
 for half a second till they have fired, for fear they'll lose it. I used 
 to be so myself ; but I found out after a while that it paid a great 
 deal better to watch an animal when I had the chance — and those 
 chances don't come very often — and learn its habits, than to kill it 
 off-hand. Many and many a trick in trapping and hunting have I 
 found out that way which I never would have dreamed of other- 
 wise. But if you really wish it, I will go on as I have begun. I 
 
254 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 like to talk of these things as well as any one to a person who cares 
 to listen, but I don't want to bore you." 
 
 " There's no danger of hurting us that way, so please go on ;" 
 replied Dick. 
 
 " All right, the risk is yours !" replied the trapper, and continued 
 as follows : 
 
 " When a caribou-hunter dreams that he has a soft thing on the 
 caribou, he always fancies he has caught them at their tricks on the 
 ice. "When the season is right, he always approaches every little 
 patch of water, or rather ice, against the wind, and feeling as though 
 he was just going to try for a prize in a grab-bag at a church fair. 
 If he is in luck, and finds caribou on the ice, and understands what 
 he is about, he doesn't begin operations at once. In all serious busi- 
 ness the herd takes its impulse from its leader, just as a steam-en- 
 gine is controlled by its engineer. He is the brains that does all 
 the thinking and planning for the herd. Kill him, and though the 
 power to do is still there, that which decided what should be done 
 is gone. It doesn't take very long for an experienced man to pick 
 out the caribou that is in command and drop him. Instantly every- 
 thing is in confusion. The herd circle around their fallen leader 
 totally at a loss what to do, until some other takes his place and all 
 break for the shelter of the woods. If the hunter is then a quick 
 and sure shot, he may take pretty heavy toll out of the herd before 
 it gains cover. 
 
 " But if the pond is small and closely surrounded by hills and 
 thick woods, the first shot echoes from the opposite side and keeps 
 echoing first from one place and then from another, until it would 
 puzzle any one who didn't know to tell where the real shot came 
 from. To the caribou it seems as if every way of escape into the 
 woods was cut off. They circle around utterly demoralized, swing- 
 ing their heads from side to side, snuffing the air, and doing their 
 best to scent out the direction of the danger. If the rifle is in the 
 hands of a butcher, every caribou may fall before, driven by despe- 
 ration to take any chance for the sake of cover, one breaks for the 
 woods. The rest, if any, follow at once, and not until after many 
 a mile will the} 7 slacken their pace to a walk. 
 
SPEED OF THE CARIBOU. 257 
 
 " When a deer or a moose meets a windfall, it either goes round 
 or jumps over it if too high to step over. But a caribou, if undis- 
 turbed, mounts the fallen trees and walks along their trunks, jump- 
 ing from one to another as if it had been brought up in a circus. 
 
 " Caribou-meat, though not quite up to moose-meat, is a good 
 deal better than venison. How it's ever made out of the kind of 
 stuff they feed on beats me. In the summer it's not so bad, the 
 blue-joint, flat grass, and that which trails in the current of running 
 streams, and the three-leaf sorrel, then form its food. The sorrel, 
 though, only seems to be eaten when it grows alongside of some 
 cold spring or boggy place in the woods. But its winter food is 
 about as tempting as a hair mattress. As the weather grows colder 
 it turns to that grayish moss which hangs like an old man's beard 
 from fir and spruce trees. This and a short thick moss which grows 
 on the bark of old-growth yellow birch-trees then form its food ; 
 and with the moss it will bolt chunks of yellow birch bark as big as 
 a silver dollar. I've heard that in some places they paw away the 
 snow in winter and hunt for their food on the ground, but I never 
 saw any signs of their doing it here. 
 
 kk If there were to be a grand race of all the four-footed creatures 
 of the earth that can run, I'd bet my money on the caribou every 
 time. In comparison, a deer or moose is nowhere in point of speed. 
 With its back almost level, each leg swinging as if it were hung on a 
 pivot, its hoofs clattering together at every stride, a caribou will get 
 over the ground at a rate that'll make a man stare if there's any 
 stare in him. 
 
 " Some years ago, when I didn't know as much about caribou as 
 I do now, I was returning from one of my trapping-lines above the 
 lake. When trapping, a man has to take so much in his pack, and 
 has to stop to use his axe and hands so often, that a rifle can't be 
 carried very conveniently, and that's the way I had been travelling. 
 I used to get sort of lonely then at times, not having a soul to speak 
 to all through the long winter, so I had a big, long-legged dog for 
 company. I don't know what kind of a dog it was, but it was 
 shaped a good deal like a greyhound, only much heavier and stout- 
 er, and had stiffish yellow hair about half-way in length between a 
 17 
 
258 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 smooth-haired and a Newfoundland dog. Some people called it a 
 wolf-hound, but I don't really know what it was. The way that 
 dog could get over the ground when he chose to was a sight to see. 
 He had pulled down a full-grown buck in less than a mile in fair 
 open running for both. I never used to let him run game, though, 
 if I could help it, because I never believed in it. 
 
 •• Well, I hit the lake up near its head. As usual, and more from 
 habit than anything else, I took a look over the lake before I left 
 the cover of the woods. What should I see but three caribou play- 
 ing on the ice just below the islands ! By taking back through the 
 woods a little way I could put the islands between them and me, 
 and so get very near them, as the wind was all right. The notion 
 struck me all of a sudden that that was the time to try how fast 
 caribou could really travel. Coming on them so sudden. I thought 
 they'd most likely make straight away from us towards the foot of 
 the lake. That would give us a good clear course of a little more 
 than a mile and a half. The ice was covered with just a little crust 
 of hard snow. In short, things could hardly be better for all hands 
 — for me, for the dog, and for the caribou ; we all had a fair chance 
 to do our level best. 
 
 " Well, we — that is, the dog and I — got behind the islands and 
 began to sneak up on them. Before long the dog smelled them, and 
 began to look up at me mighty anxious and give a little whimper 
 once in a while. I shook my hst at hi in, a sign he understood well 
 enough to mean that he must keep quiet ; though, to make sure he 
 wouldn't go off half-cocked, I grabbed him by the collar when we 
 began to get pretty near. When we came round the lower point of 
 the last island, there were those caribou not twenty yards from us. 
 I then let the dog go and sung out to him to take them. The dog 
 by this time was just crazy for it. All he wanted was the chance, 
 and he stretched his long legs out over that ice the best he knew. 
 The caribou, as they always do when suddenly alarmed, swung 
 round at once towards the noise to see what the trouble was ; and, 
 before they had made up their minds that it was time to be up and 
 doing, the dog had almost closed the gap. For about a quarter of a 
 mile or so it was nip and tuck, the dog not over two or three yards 
 
A CARIBOU CHASE. 259 
 
 behind and straining his best to close on them. Then the caribou 
 seemed first to call on their reserve powers and give up trifling. 
 They went so fast you could almost hear them hum through the air 
 clear back where I was. When they disappeared in the woods the 
 dog was not half-way to the foot of the lake. 
 
 " As for the dog, it pretty near broke his heart. He came back 
 when I called him with his tail down, and slunk round behind me, 
 looking up sort of side wise out of the corner of his eye as he went 
 by, as if he were afraid I'd disown him. You never saw such a sick- 
 looking dog that hadn't anything the matter with him except that 
 he'd lost his self-respect. 
 
 " To tell the truth, I didn't like it any too well myself. I didn't 
 want the caribou, as I had plenty of meat. I'd rather expected 
 they'd beat the dog, but it never entered my head that they'd dis- 
 tance him that way. It kept worrying me for some time. Finally 
 I concluded that that ice was prime travelling for caribou, and that 
 it was their day ; but that when March came and the snow was 
 deep and crusted, I'd give them a breather that would put the laugh 
 on the other side. I thought I was some at snow-shoeing then, for 
 I'd beaten in every race I'd ever tried. 
 
 " March came. The snow couldn't be better for my purpose if I 
 had it made to order. It was nearly six feet deep on the level, 
 hard on the surface and soft underneath, with just about an inch of 
 light snow over the top. I couldn't ask for better travelling for 
 myself, or worse for any animal as heavy as a caribou. I had been 
 over to the Little Eiver looking after some traps, and on my way 
 back chanced on five caribou lying down. They were on their feet 
 in an instant, facing me not thirty yards off. I happened to have 
 my rifle with me that time, and could have dropped one or two of 
 them easy; but that was not my game. I was going to avenge 
 that dog's wrongs if it was in my skin, and I rather thought it was. 
 In a second my pack, rifle, axe, and everything else that could hold 
 me back was on the snow, and I was at them. I had no idea of kill- 
 ing any of them, but I did intend to run them until they were sick 
 enough of it to come to a stand ; and I didn't think it was going to 
 take so very long either. 
 
260 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " Of course they distanced me at first, but that I had expected ; 
 even a deer could have done that, and I knew well enough that to 
 run a deer and a caribou to a stand were two very different things. 
 A mile was passed and I hadn't seen hide nor hair of them. An- 
 other mile was run, yet there was nothing bat the track I followed 
 to show they were ahead of me. I noticed that they didn't slump 
 anything like what a moose would have done. Another thing, too, 
 looked rather dubious : I couldn't see a sign that they were dis- 
 tressed in the least — such as froth lying near the trail, or places 
 where they had snatched a mouthful of snow as they ran. It was 
 certainly time for some such sign. I began to think that perhaps I 
 had undertaken something more of a contract than I had expected ; 
 but I was in for it now, and my mad began to rise. For the next 
 mile I put in the very best licks I knew. At its end I began to 
 feel as if I had done something like a day's work. But as for the 
 caribou, as far as their trail showed, they were dusting along at just 
 about the same gait they had started with, without a sign of flag- 
 ging. I could hardly believe my eyes, and thought I must have 
 passed some signs of distress in my hurry without noticing them. 
 It was too great a come down to admit that a four-footed animal of 
 hundreds of pounds in weight lived which I couldn't run down on 
 snow-shoes in such heavy snow. 
 
 u While these things were passing through my mind I hadn't 
 let up any in my efforts. Just then the trail took a bend and head- 
 ed for the river. Now, thinks I, I've got 'em. I hardly thought 
 they would change direction again, and if they kept that course 
 they would hit the river at the rapids. The cold up here in the 
 winter is so savage that even on the rapids the water thickens like 
 porridge and chokes the current, and solid ice begins to form along 
 the edges and in the eddies. This backs up the water, which rises 
 and rises until the pressure is too much for the ice. The water then 
 begins to run under the ice, and cuts away at its foundations with 
 all the force of a spring freshet. At last the whole mass breaks 
 down into the current and is swept away. This leaves on each bank 
 a border of ice with a straight up and down face. The ice at once 
 begins to form again in the same way, and the same thing happens 
 
STILL HUNTING CARIBOU. 261 
 
 again and again, all the time building the perpendicular ice-banks 
 higher and higher. Now, I knew this had been going on for months 
 and had been increased by every fall of snow, until the river was 
 running between perpendicular banks of ice and frozen snow at 
 least eight feet high. Towards this the caribou were going, and 
 there, headed by such an obstacle and tired by their efforts, I felt 
 sure they must come to a stand. 
 
 " I pushed on as fast as I could. At last I reached the river. 
 There was the ice-wall on both banks as straight up and down as 
 the side of a house. No man without a ladder or cutting a way 
 with an axe could have got down, much less climb up on the other 
 side ; while between them the icy water was roaring over the rocks 
 some three or four feet deep. I looked around for the caribou. 
 The trail led straight to the bank. Down that ice-wall they had 
 gone, and up the other side, with hardly a break in their speed. 
 Then I knew I was beaten; and when I pulled off my mitten and 
 felt of the tracks in the snow to see how long they had been made, 
 I declare they seemed older than all the time I had been running 
 them. Since then I have believed that no man has any business 
 running caribou on snow-shoes, or in any other way for that matter, 
 unless with an express engine ; and then he has got to shovel in the 
 coal mighty lively. 
 
 " There, will that do you ?" 
 
 " You haven't told us how you hunt caribou except on the ice," 
 replied Harry. " Tell us about that." 
 
 " Before the snow comes we occasionally get one under a jack, 
 just as we got the moose. My way is to go dark, as we did, for 
 though sometimes a caribou will stand to an open light, oftener it 
 will not. 
 
 " The best time is when about three or four inches of snow lie in 
 the woods. Then's the time for still hunting. While trapping, the 
 hunter has kept track of where the caribou are working. He puts 
 on three or four heavy woollen shirts, one over the other, for a 
 coat would catch in the bushes through which he must pass, and 
 that wouldn't do at all. He wears a very broad - brimmed felt 
 hat to keep the snow he will shake down on him out of the back 
 17* 
 
262 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 of his neck ; for among the thickest firs and spruces, where the long 
 gray moss hangs, is the place where he must look for his game. 
 Four or five pairs of heavy woollen socks cover his feet, and over 
 them is placed a pair of caribou-shanks. Whenever we get a cari- 
 bou we take the skin from the hind-legs, cutting it about four or 
 five inches above the gambrel joint, then splitting it open in front, 
 and removing it clear to the hoof. The gambrel joint forms the 
 heel of a stocking, which is made by doubling the extra length of 
 hide over the hunter's toes and back towards his instep. This is 
 then sewed on both sides where the sole of an ordinary shoe joins 
 the upper ; and these, worn with the hair outside, are caribou-shanks. 
 Boots or shoes are too noisy to be thought of. He puts in his pock- 
 ets food for one meal, knowing that he will start his game soon. 
 Then he will either be successful, or he might just as well go back 
 to camp ; for when a caribou is once wound up by alarm it takes so 
 long to run down that it's useless to follow it. 
 
 " He then takes his rifle, puts a hatchet in his belt, and is off. 
 He soon finds plenty of tracks, if he is not out in the notion of about 
 where the caribou are working. The age of these tracks is the first 
 thing to be settled. If it is still snowing, the quantity of snow 
 which has fallen over them will tell the story. If it has not snowed 
 since the tracks were made, and the tracks are over a day old, little 
 frost-needles will be seen in the footprint ; but if made the night 
 before or since, none of these frost-needles will be found. He then 
 takes off his mitten and feels whether the snow thrown up by the 
 tracks is loose or frozen. If loose, the track is fresh ; if frozen, it is 
 two or three hours old. These are the leading signs, but still there 
 are a good many others, all of which are studied, and from them a 
 good hunter learns pretty much all there is to learn about the herd, 
 except where they are and how many animals are in it. At last a 
 pretty recent track is found and followed. While he is following it 
 he keeps both eyes wide open for signs of feeding. When travel- 
 ling, caribou, like all other heavy animals in a wooded country, 
 follow in single file, each one stepping pretty much in the tracks of 
 that ahead of it. This makes it very hard to tell how large a herd 
 is, or how it's made up, when they are moving. But when they 
 
RETURN FROM CARIBOU-HUNTING. 
 
STILL HUNTING CARIBOU. 265 
 
 begin to feed they scatter, and each one writes its own description 
 on the snow. So the hunter studies this mighty close ; for besides 
 learning how many animals he has before him, he must find how 
 much the herd has fed and how much more it is likely to feed. 
 When they have eaten enough he knows they will lie down. They 
 may snatch a bite here and there, and move on. But sooner or 
 later they will scatter and make eating a business. From these 
 signs and others he judges how near he is to them. When he thinks 
 they have eaten enough and will soon lie down, he overhauls his 
 rifle, gets the snow out of the muzzle, cocks and uncocks it three or 
 four times, works the breech mechanism, and generally sees that all 
 is clear for action ; for the many falls he has had in the snow, and 
 the quantity he has shaken down from the trees, have covered him 
 again and again. 
 
 " He then creeps forward, all eyes and ears, avoiding everything 
 that may make a noise as though it were a hornet's nest. He does 
 not need to pay much attention to the wind, for among the thick 
 evergreens clogged with snow it is almost always calm, no matter 
 how hard it blows over the tree-tops. Every bush, every stump or 
 fallen tree in sight, is examined with the greatest suspicion, for the 
 snow sticking to the coats of the caribou makes it no fool's job to 
 distinguish them unless in motion. It is of course impossible to help 
 making some noise once in a while, and it may be they are the 
 first to find out what's up. Instantly all spring to their feet and 
 face him — generally, if he has been careful, at some twenty or 
 thirty yards' distance. Now is the time. No waiting for a side 
 shot, but draw on the biggest, and give it to him right in the mid- 
 dle of the chest at the root of the neck ; for if the hunter waits, 
 in a second they will be off like the wind, and he must take his 
 chance as they run among the thick trees. If the herd is made 
 up of two bulls, and one falls, the other is almost sure to come back 
 inside of an hour or so, looking for his companion ; if a bull and a 
 cow, the cow will not return ; while if a large herd is started, it's 
 every one for itself. 
 
 " Having secured his game, the hunter at once builds a big fire 
 near it, and begins to skin and dress the animal before it has time 
 
266 
 
 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 to freeze. He then wraps the liver and tenderloin in the hide, tying 
 them up with a strip cut from the edge of the skin. The rest of the 
 meat he hangs on the trees, and, shouldering his bundle, returns to 
 camp for his sled. On his way to camp, about seven times out of 
 ten, he amuses himself by calling himself all manner of hard names 
 for making the mistake he has so often made before, of not seeing 
 his game before it was in motion, even while it was under his very 
 nose. That's the way I still hunt them, and that pretty well fin- 
 ishes up all I can think of about caribou now." 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Stormbound. — Plans for the Future. — The Trapper comments on Life in the Woods. 
 — The Boys return Home. 
 
 DURING the continuance of the storm neither pleasure nor 
 profit was to be had out-of-doors. All day long the rain 
 streamed down. To the boys, longing to be in the open air, it 
 was a weary time. Towards evening the rain ceased at last, and a 
 change of wind gave hope of a change of weather. 
 
 The trapper busied himself about the camp during the day ; in 
 the afternoon he was unusually silent and thoughtful. After supper 
 he said : 
 
 " Boys, I am afraid this storm rather knocks our plans in the 
 head. If things had followed their usual course, we would have had 
 a week or ten days more of good weather, ending in such a storm 
 
268 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 as this. In this hilly country such a heavy fall of water as we have 
 had floods the streams and bogs, so that trapping about them is at 
 a stand-still for a few days. I had planned all along to use the time 
 while the water was dropping to its natural level for my last trip to 
 the settlement. I am behindhand with my trapping now, and it will 
 hardly do to lose any more time on top of that already lost. I am 
 mighty sorry, but we ought to go down-river to-morrow." 
 
 The boys heard this announcement with no little dismay. Since 
 they had fallen into the trapper's hands they had lived free from 
 care, altogether in the present. "With his words the necessities of the 
 future arose before them, and what was that future to be ? Their 
 way to the settlement, with the aid of the trapper, lay open ; but 
 there the store-keeper must be met, clamorous to be paid for his lost 
 boat. Then it was many miles to the railroad. True, they could 
 walk it now they had nothing to carry, but not clothed as they 
 were. Then, having reached the railroad, what were they to do 
 without one cent of money ? The outlook was indeed gloomy. 
 
 The boys looked one at the other, in silence and with blank 
 faces, for some moments. Then Dick said : 
 
 " You mustn't let us stand in your way for one minute, Mr. 
 Dant. You've made it so pleasant for us here that we are sorry 
 to part from you. It would be a very poor return for your kind- 
 ness if we were not. But it had to come sooner or later, and it 
 is plain enough that to-morrow ought to be the time. What do 
 you say, Harry?" 
 
 " Of course we must go to-morrow, whether we like it or not," 
 replied Harry. " Mr. Dant must visit the settlement before the river 
 freezes up ; and it is better for him to go now, when he can do 
 nothing else and has the time to spare, than later, when he would 
 have to lose the time from his trapping. We've put him to too 
 much inconvenience already ; we mustn't think of increasing it." 
 
 " If it wasn't really necessary, boys, I shouldn't have spoken of 
 it," said the trapper. " I've been thinking it over all day, and can't 
 see any way out of it. It is either use waste time now or steal val- 
 uable time by-and-by. Much as I hate to break up, I am afraid that 
 there is no help for it : so we will consider that settled. There is 
 

 M 
 
 i% 
 
 mm 
 
 
 x ' 
 
THE TRAPPER'S COMMENTS. 271 
 
 another thing I've been considering too, and that is, what you are 
 to do after you reach the settlement. I've planned it this way, if 
 it suits you : When we get there, I will see the store-keeper about 
 his boat the first thing. He wanted to sell it to me a while ago, 
 but I wouldn't buy it. I have changed my mind now, as it's up 
 here. I shall keep his boat and bring you down in mine. That'll 
 fix that matter without any trouble. Then I'll get a team to take 
 us to the railroad, as I have business there. What clothes you need 
 to take you home can be had near the depot. I will see you have 
 your railroad tickets too. I think that'll fix things as they should 
 be. How does it strike you ?" 
 
 " If we talked till Christmas - time we could not thank you 
 enough, Mr. Dant, for what you have already done," replied Dick. 
 " All we can do now is to thank you again for what you propose to 
 do. What would we have done without you ?" 
 
 " We couldn't have done anything except starve to death," said 
 Harry. " But we shall never forget your kindness, Mr. Dant, nor 
 will our parents forget it either, I know ; and they will repay you 
 every cent of expense you are at on our account." 
 
 " Oh, I am satisfied well enough I sha'n't lose anything by you," 
 replied the trapper. " I've seen enough of you to know you are not 
 the kind to take advantage of me. I have the money to spare and 
 have no use at all for it till spring, and so can fix you out just as 
 well as not. There ! we'll call our arrangements all complete, and 
 think and talk of something else. 
 
 "I've a word or two on my mind and I have been thinking 
 whether I'd better say it to you or not. It may not be necessary, 
 but it will do no harm anyway, so here goes. 
 
 " I suppose it's no use now to tell you that in coming up here 
 in the hope of making anything at hunting or trapping, you did 
 a mighty foolish thing. You've found that out for yourselves. 
 There ! you needn't look so cheap about it. Lots of city boys do 
 the same. They get their heads stuffed full of nonsense about 
 the woods, out of books which give about as true an idea of woods 
 life as they do of life in the middle of China, and not much more. 
 To read them you'd think that up here it was just one continual 
 
272 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 picnic, where the weather and everything else could be ordered 
 beforehand to suit, and where the main ambition of game was to 
 give greenhorns a chance to shoot it. The truth is it's a very 
 rough life even to those brought up to it, with hard work in plenty, 
 and fun, except such as can be found in hard work, mighty scatter- 
 ing. You'd think a man a fool who tried to sail a vessel across the 
 ocean with no one aboard who had ever sailed a boat before. But 
 it's just the same thing in the woods. Life in the woods is a life by 
 itself, as much as life at sea is a life by itself. It's different from 
 any other kind of a life. 
 
 " If a person puts the muzzle of a loaded rifle in his mouth and 
 pulls the trigger, off goes his head whether he knew it was loaded 
 or not. It's just so in the woods. A man must look out for him- 
 self. He must know what should be done under all circumstances 
 and do it, and what ought not to be clone and never do it, or take 
 the consequences ; and there's no dodging them either. 
 
 " And how is a person to learn what is the right thing, except 
 by education and experience ? It takes just as much study and prac- 
 tice to learn how to live in the woods, or nearly as much anyway, 
 as it does to teach Greek in a college. I don't mean to live in what 
 I would call luxury and you would think bare comfort, for there is 
 no luxury to be had in the woods except plenty of fresh air and 
 hard work; I mean merely to live at all. 
 
 " As to a greenhorn's making anything of trapping or hunting, 
 he might just as well think of making money mining in the moon. 
 You brought a dozen traps. How many do you suppose I have? 
 Nearly five hundred. I work over those traps in a way you couldn't 
 do to save your lives. From the first break of dawn until dusk, 
 whether it rains or shines, whether it is pleasant or whether the 
 thermometer is 'way below zero and the air filled with flying snow, 
 I am on my trapping-lines, always with forty or fifty pounds on my 
 back besides my axe. When night comes, no matter how tired I 
 am, I must make camp, cut wood enough to surely last all night, 
 cook, and skin the animals I have taken from my traps that day, 
 before I sleep. Often this takes me till midnight. But whatever 
 the hour may be, I must be off again at daybreak the next morn- 
 
v. 
 
 
 'the thermometer 'way below zero and the air filled with flying snow/ 
 
THE TRAPPER'S COMMENTS. 2<5 
 
 ing. After the trapping season fairly opens, it is only on Sundays 
 I can indulge in such luxuries as are to be had in my little cabin, 
 rough as you no doubt think it. At other times I lie on the ground 
 or in the snow, thankful for even a bark shelter, half the time wet 
 
 
 THE LAST VIEW OF THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 through, and with but a single blanket to cover me, and in such 
 weather that any one who did not know just what to do would be 
 frozen stiff as a stake before morning. 
 
 " And how much do you suppose, with all my traps, labor, and 
 experience I make in a season? If I get three hundred dollars for 
 mv fur 1 have done well. 
 
2<6 CITY BOYS IN THE WOODS. 
 
 " Nine -tenths of the people who come up here as you have 
 done have never handled an axe in their lives. How long do 
 you suppose it would take such a person to cut a cold night's 
 tire-wood ?" 
 
 The boys looked at one another, but preserved a discreet 
 silence. 
 
 " They couldn't cut wood enough for one night of such a fire as 
 is necessary after the snow comes in half a day. Watch a man chop 
 who knows how, and it seems the most simple thing in the world. 
 But really it takes long practice. A man who can't use an axe well 
 is almost as helpless in the woods as if he had no arms at all. Noth- 
 ing will take its place. It is absolutely indispensable. 
 
 " I needn't say anything about how dangerous an axe is to a 
 person who isn't used to it, for I've told you about that already. 
 But it may be just as well to remember that an injury which would 
 be trilling where help and a doctor were handy, might be a very 
 serious matter up here. 
 
 " Then think of the risk of getting lost. A man might wander 
 about here a year and never meet a living soul. A compass is no 
 help unless you know how to use it in the woods, and that's quite 
 a different tiling from using it on the water." 
 
 The trapper was as good as his word. He satisfied the store- 
 keeper as to his boat, took the boys to the railroad, supplied them 
 with their tickets and saw them safely off for home on the train, 
 where they parted with many a shake of the hand and many a 
 good-by. 
 
 When the long winter was over and the trapper came once more 
 to the settlement with the results of his trapping, he found the 
 following letter awaiting him : 
 
 "Boston, November 10, \^- 
 " Mr. John Bant : 
 
 " My dear Sir, — We can never thank you as you deserve to be 
 thanked for your kindness to our boys during their recent experi- 
 ence in the Maine woods. Enclosed please find my check for two 
 
CONCLUSION. 
 
 277 
 
 hundred and fifty dollars in return for the money you so kindly 
 advanced them, and as some slight acknowledgment of our indebt- 
 edness to you otherwise. Mr. Hildreth joins in the sentiments ex- 
 pressed in this letter, and contributes half of the enclosed. 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 " R. D. Halstead." 
 
 ip, - 
 

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